Twizzlers for Breakfast

I haven’t seen what 3 a.m. looks like in awhile, but it reminds me a lot of when I originally closed my eyes just a few hours ago.  That being said, WE’RE GOING TO JAMAICA!  But our 6:30 a.m. flight to Philadelphia (Yes, Jamaica through Philadelphia, starting in KC) gets us moving at 3.  

But what about breakfast…one of my favorite meals of the day?  Our airport doesn’t really cater to predawn travelers, so it is a good thing I picked up a gigantic bag of Twizzlers from Target.  That, with a few other snacks we had stowed away, helped the hunger urges subside when they started to twinge a bit.  On to Jamaica…

Airport anticipation giddiness.  Fueled by Twizzlers!

Downtown KC amongst the cloud cover as we leave.

This junket to Jamaica is a celebration of Drew’s completion of his undergrad time at Missouri State University.  So if I have to walk on a beautiful beach to celebrate this accomplishment, I’m there for him!  But we have to get there first.

The first leg of our flight to Philly seemed relatively quick.  Between a game on my phone, snacking, and attempts at closing my eyes, we started descending before I realized it.  What we didn’t know as we disembarked from the plane was that our next flight was already boarding, somewhere on the other side of the terminal. We quickened our pace once we got our wits about us.  If not for a guy driving one of those golf carts covered in wheelchair accessible logos that graciously picked us up, maybe due to the frantic look on our almost sweaty faces, we stood a good chance of missing our first night in the Caribbean.  But we made it to our gate, as they were making preparations to close the jetway doors…so much for grabbing some early lunch.

Following the Missouri River east.

The flight from Philadelphia to Montego Bay, Jamaica, was to be about 3 hours.  It was not a full flight and as soon as it was possible, people were up jockeying for different seats.  Unfortunately, between bordering on slap happiness and boredom, the eavesdropping and family antics began.  I will focus on the eavesdropping.  I hate to even call it that, because it was a conversation between two gentlemen directly behind us, so it is not like we had a choice on hearing them or not.  It began innocently enough as they started with polite conversation between strangers stuck on a plane for 3 hours, but it soon ramped up to an incessant drivel as if they were 12 year old girls (my apology 12 year old girls).  By the time I was able to filter out their words to just noise, I noticed their conversation started coming in waves.   Once one topic was wrung dry, there was a short lull, followed by a new senseless topic that had a growth spurt, as shown in the rise in decibels and excitement in their voices.  That was beat to death and the pattern repeated.  This continued for almost two hours, which at that time it got quiet. I felt the need to get up out of my seat, under the guise of stretching, just to see if they had talked themselves to death.  I didn’t, but I guess I missed their chatter enough to entertain the thought of seeing if they were okay, I guess.  I cannot begin to tell you what was covered in their two-hour dialog, although it might be easier to say what they didn’t.  In an odd way it helped pass the time, but if on the way home I am faced with a similar situation, I only hope the conversation coming from behind me is from real 12-year-old girls, because it just didn’t seem right coming from two grown-ass men.  Maybe I was just tired.

Family antics.

The flight got more exciting as we flew over the coastline and the variations of blue in the water below became visible.  Leaving the mainland behind meant our destination was getting close.

Leaving the US.

Jamaica!

We landed in Montego Bay on schedule and as promised, we were greeted by someone who escorted us on an expedited visit through customs and into the Mobay Club.  When we first arrived at the Mobay Club, a small area where you got to snack on alcohol and finger food, while Beth finalized our transfer to our resort.  The result of that was Drew and I got to eat and drink and Beth did not.  Before I could finish my “seconds,” we were escorted out of the terminal, to a line of short buses.  Once on board, our driver “Mac,” started our ride “home.”  Getting us out of Montego Bay and into the small hamlets dotting the countryside was a bit of a white knuckling experience, but I felt as though if we hadn’t been in an accident within the first few miles, we were good.

The Mobay Club

School kids heading home. 

One of many cemeteries.

The only way to describe our journey to the resort is a Gilligan’s Island reference…it was a 3 hour tour!  What was advertised to be an hour and a half transfer to our place, somehow doubled as we got to know two lady friends traveling from Miami to get out of the rain.

Half way rest stop

To finalize, we got checked in to our very nice accommodations, had dinner at a steakhouse restaurant, tried to stay up for some entertainment, but went to bed early. 

A room with a view!

We know how to fill a day…end of day one...

My Zen from the Caribbean: From the Travel Channel, I was expecting to see an impoverished appearance on the island and as we rode through the countryside to Negril, that is what I witnessed.  But what surprised me was the number of homes being constructed with concrete block (and maybe some poured concrete) that were unfinished.  Like the first floor was done, but there was rebar sticking up into the sky as if there were plans for a second story.  The puzzling part was the first floor seemed to have been done more than a few years ago and due to the overgrown nature of the vegetation, there seemed to be no plans to pick up where they left off. Have they just been abandoned?  So different than my little part of the world, but makes me curious.  Is it just the way it is?  I guess it's what you are use to.