East Coast Conquered.

Well Technically the east side of the north coast, but I am still counting it since Jamaica doesn't have a full fledged east coast per se.

We left on Monday around noonish, after Gareth and I had some fried chicken from the pizza shop which sells pizza with sauce that is ketchup instead of real sauce hence why I am in pizza withdrawals. It took about two and a half to three hours to get there on a beautiful drive along the coast. It is so crazy to see the landscape change on such a small island from beachy to more rocky coasts. We got to Port Antonio and went to the Scotia House, our "hostel" like place to stay. It was very cute and quaint. Gareth and I had a room with two twin beds and the room had the cutest door. The handle was literally a foot off the ground. I mean I know we grew and all since these houses were built, but man. It kind of felt like I was staying at Grandma's, if my grandma were Jamaican and did not have hot water (didn't realize how spoiled we are at the Manse).

Then we headed straight for Monkey Island, on which there are no monkeys. Go Figure. Can we say awesome? Beautiful? Breath taking? Questioning it's reality? This island truly is a wonder. And barely anyone ever goes out there. You get to it by walking through the water, at most a foot deep, to this island and follow a little trail to a cliff on one side where you can chill for days and not have to bother with reality. We only chilled till about ten that night. Gareth and Nick caught a few fish and one lobster and Nick went back to town to pick up some more food as the fish were teeny. We made a fire, cooked the fish, and roasted a breadfruit (and yes it is a fruit that when cooked tastes a lot like potato and no I don't know why it isn't called potato fruit). It was pretty dang awesome. Indescribable, although I tried. Perhaps a photo will help.

I can't believe I almost forgot to write how we jumped off the cliff on Monkey Island. It was probably twenty or so feet and you just run off it and jump. Definitely scary to think about but so fun to do. The hardest part was getting back to the rocks - the waves are pretty intense so you have to be careful not to get pushed into the rock. Once you know the way to do it though, you are golden.

So the next day we spent at a place called Frenchman's Cove, beautiful beach, great water, and lots of speedos and Europeans, which I think go hand in hand. There was even a family. We spent all day here and I got a for reals sunburn on my shoulders, but I am surviving. The water was colder than we are used to b/c a stream empties at the cove making that water chillier. But it felt great after being in the sun the whole day. It was a great spot and I know where I am going next time I am in Jamaica. (check facebook for more photos of the whole trip, including speedo documentation)

We headed back to Porty, as it is known by locals, and Nick and his friend headed up the mountain to see some other peace corps peeps. Gareth and I headed into town to walk around some by the harbor and to go to Yosch's, a restaurant owned by a German whitey. He made us a pizza margharita with goat cheese to die for. We, well I, have been craving real pizza for so long and this one was off the chain. So freaking good. We split one and checked our email and then dropped our stuff off back at the Scotia House (which was just up the hill in a historic little peninsula neighborhood called Titchfield Peninsula). Next stop was a jerk shack to try their jerk on that side of the coast; it was good, but I prefer Falmouth's. I really wanted ice cream but the ice cream place funnily didn't have any so I had to settle for a crunch bar ice cream thing from the gas station. We headed back to the Scotia House and crashed - that sun wears you out.

Today we ate breakfast at the same place we did yesterday, which was nice b/c it was a real restaurant, like looked like one back home, which was comforting, as we are both gettting seriously burned out. And yes we have enjoyed our time here, but it's not home. It's a big cultural shock and we have learned so much about ourselves, our culture, Jamaican culture, etc, but after a while, you just want to be around what you know again. Anywho, after breakfast we walked to Monkey Island again. This is not a short walk. Nor too much fun when you are carrying all your stuff on sunburned shoulders with blistered feet. But it was worth it. Good exercise and a sense of accomplishment. Basically we walked a U shape b/c Port Antonio has a a couple harbors and peninsulas. It was a pretty far walk and took us about an hour. Once we got to Monkey Island, Gareth built a little shelter for some shade and was nice enough to let me chill in it while he went swimming. My poor shoulders needed the shade. We were there about two hours and then our chariot came back to pick us up so we trekked back to the mainland and headed back to Falmouth. All in all it was a nice little break, but like before I was glad to get back to our "home." We caught Peter just as he was locking up so we didn't have to go get the keys or anything. He said he didn't miss us much, but he did think about us a few hours ago. I think he was lying and did miss us, but that's just me.

Well, back to work tomorrow and then...two weeks left until we are back stateside. Negril this Saturday and then solid work. And since I just realized how to put pictures on this post, I will stick some in here.

j

--This is a bag filled with dreams & recipes for soup & he's deciding right now which he's really hungry for.--