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It had been a really long day of driving. The rain was pounding, and road construction continued even in the mud. We didn’t know the area, and the name of the place was only a guess, by our last host. Blue Heaven, he said. He told us we would really enjoy this place—”it’s a little freaky”. He gave us vague directions and a very warm invitation to return whenever we could.
We had been driving for hours, inching along the flooding roads. It was now dark and not too many people out walking. We stopped a few and asked if they knew of this place we were looking for. Nobody had heard of it. “Blue Harbour?”, they’d ask. We wondered if maybe we had the name totally wrong, but we were not quite ready to give up. We start heading up a steep hill, with almost a hairpin turn. Just before the turn we see it “There!”, I shouted and pointed. Phil pulled into the little driveway. Blue Harbour—MAYBE this IS it.
There’s an iron gate with a button. We stand at the gate and ring the bell to let someone know we’re there. We wait and wait. The rain is pounding on us—no shelter to stand under. Phil buzzes again, and we wait. After several minutes, and almost ready to leave, we hear someone walking this way. He walks up to the gate. A Rasta with half a spliff in his lips. He sort of looked us over as Phil asked if he had any rooms for the night. “ya mon, I got a room”, he said. Phil asks, “How much would that room be?”. The Rasta, Roy, says, in a very low, monotone voice, “it’s like…………………..it’s……………… like…………………..it’s like Jamaican……………………...It’s going to………. be…………………….uh……………..it’s like…………..a tousand per person” A tousand each…………….two tousand for da room” He said this S O S L O W L Y that we almost had to laugh, but held back. Wow—2 thousand Jamaica—that’s what?... About 30 bucks US?! What a deal—could this be true? So, I spoke up and asked, “do you mind if we see the room first?” “Ya mon—you can see da room”.
He opens the gate for us to enter, and starts the walk. We walk and walk down this long paved pathway. Passing by doors that looked like any one might be the room he wanted to put us in. Right next to the road, sure there was chain link and bushes between the road and the rooms, but it was NOT my idea of a good room. We walked past all of those and up to a huge house. We walked in through the kitchen, went through a huge ‘living room’ with a tv, and couches and tables, chairs, books, stereos. We didn’t see anybody else though. We proceeded up a stairway to a large verandah where he opened a door and showed us in. It was beautiful! Wood floors painted red, a sleigh bed on one side and a double bed on the other. There was a nice bathroom and a walk-in closet. There was even another bedroom, but we closed the door since we didn’t need it. I sat on the bed, and said, “Yep—we’ll take this!” Roy said, "Ya mon, you can get your stuff now”.
We had given away all the food and snacks we were carrying, so we were really hungry and asked if there was a place to eat close by. He gave us an idea of where to go look. We did and luckily, after asking a really nice lady at the lady in the grocery store, we found a little restaurant that was still open. We had a delicious meal of baked chicken, rice and peas, salad, festival, and a Ting— for only 180 Jamaican!
We had a great night’s sleep, except for the huge trucks making the hairpin turn in the rainy night and hitting their jake brakes as they approached. Other than that—it was warm and cozy and friendly and great. We loved it there, just as our other host had said. It didn’t matter if this was the “right” place or not—it was perfect for us!
I hear Blue Harbour is for sale now. If only I could win the lottery...
We had been driving for hours, inching along the flooding roads. It was now dark and not too many people out walking. We stopped a few and asked if they knew of this place we were looking for. Nobody had heard of it. “Blue Harbour?”, they’d ask. We wondered if maybe we had the name totally wrong, but we were not quite ready to give up. We start heading up a steep hill, with almost a hairpin turn. Just before the turn we see it “There!”, I shouted and pointed. Phil pulled into the little driveway. Blue Harbour—MAYBE this IS it.
There’s an iron gate with a button. We stand at the gate and ring the bell to let someone know we’re there. We wait and wait. The rain is pounding on us—no shelter to stand under. Phil buzzes again, and we wait. After several minutes, and almost ready to leave, we hear someone walking this way. He walks up to the gate. A Rasta with half a spliff in his lips. He sort of looked us over as Phil asked if he had any rooms for the night. “ya mon, I got a room”, he said. Phil asks, “How much would that room be?”. The Rasta, Roy, says, in a very low, monotone voice, “it’s like…………………..it’s……………… like…………………..it’s like Jamaican……………………...It’s going to………. be…………………….uh……………..it’s like…………..a tousand per person” A tousand each…………….two tousand for da room” He said this S O S L O W L Y that we almost had to laugh, but held back. Wow—2 thousand Jamaica—that’s what?... About 30 bucks US?! What a deal—could this be true? So, I spoke up and asked, “do you mind if we see the room first?” “Ya mon—you can see da room”.
He opens the gate for us to enter, and starts the walk. We walk and walk down this long paved pathway. Passing by doors that looked like any one might be the room he wanted to put us in. Right next to the road, sure there was chain link and bushes between the road and the rooms, but it was NOT my idea of a good room. We walked past all of those and up to a huge house. We walked in through the kitchen, went through a huge ‘living room’ with a tv, and couches and tables, chairs, books, stereos. We didn’t see anybody else though. We proceeded up a stairway to a large verandah where he opened a door and showed us in. It was beautiful! Wood floors painted red, a sleigh bed on one side and a double bed on the other. There was a nice bathroom and a walk-in closet. There was even another bedroom, but we closed the door since we didn’t need it. I sat on the bed, and said, “Yep—we’ll take this!” Roy said, "Ya mon, you can get your stuff now”.
We had given away all the food and snacks we were carrying, so we were really hungry and asked if there was a place to eat close by. He gave us an idea of where to go look. We did and luckily, after asking a really nice lady at the lady in the grocery store, we found a little restaurant that was still open. We had a delicious meal of baked chicken, rice and peas, salad, festival, and a Ting— for only 180 Jamaican!
We had a great night’s sleep, except for the huge trucks making the hairpin turn in the rainy night and hitting their jake brakes as they approached. Other than that—it was warm and cozy and friendly and great. We loved it there, just as our other host had said. It didn’t matter if this was the “right” place or not—it was perfect for us!
I hear Blue Harbour is for sale now. If only I could win the lottery...
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