Travelling from Portmore, St. Catherine to St. Thomas was a rough ride. Not like the smooth pavements observed when driving to Montego Bay last weekend. Who is complaining? The twists and turns, the bumps, the sharp curves, the deep potholes, the unpaved roads all made for an interesting journey. Along the sides I could see the lush green shrubberies and pieces of the deep blue sea. We had to stop to take pictures of the strong tides and leaving behind this white backwash long after the wave rescind. What a sight to see! Continuing on our journey, slowing down for more patchy roads, and swinging to the opposite side of the road to avoid potholes while being entertained by poetry. We again pulled over to buy plants- my cousin is into gardening. Kinda reminds me of a scene/chapter in the Percy Jackson series (not too many people have read the entire series- I did and loved it). The scene in which Percy arrived at a shop where gnome statutes are sold by this old woman. Only to realize that it was really Medusa turning people into statues when she removed her sunglasses and was about to do the same to Percy and his friends. Well Percy manages to defeat her by beheading her. None of that happened when we stopped. We looked at all the plants, picked up the one we wanted, paid for it and continued on our journey.

Upon arriving in St. Thomas, we met a relative and retrieved mangoes- East Indian and Julie. I took a bite of the East Indian mango, the first in at least a decade if I can remember correctly. Is sugar as sweet as this mango? The juice is so succulent and flavorful.

Another hours drive takes us to San San beach which is our final destination, located in Portland, another parish in Jamaica. We stopped to ask questions to ensure we were on the right track for there were no signs to guide us. How do you have roads with no signs? How does anyone know where to drive? We intended to stop at the famous Boston jerk on the way, apparently well known for the best jerk. Well as a result of the lack of signs, we passed it unaware that such a famous spot could appear so insignificant. Kinda like the exit to the airport, I wouldn’t have thought that the door to my rediscovery would have been so small.

It wasn’t long before we found the one sign we saw for miles, which is the only one of importance, “Welcome to San San beach”. We almost drove passed the small entrance, and had to reverse to make the turn on the opposite side of the road. We arrived.

Ok, I know that I should be grateful, and I am, to be at the beach in the first place. A beach is a beach. My cousins thought it was a nice one, but the lack of “beach” which is the sandy part of the shore created by the waves, made it not so appealing for me. Here at San San, the poor beach is being washed into the sea, and there was very little of it left. What may have been beautiful at one point in time is no longer so. But as for me, a beach is a beach- something we don’t have a lot of in Canada- or must I say greater Toronto area. Naturally, there’s this anxiousness to get into the water for me. But the temperature of the water was not pleasurable at all. It was cold in some parts and warm in others. Goosebumps took over my skin, and it’s hard to explain that, a person who have been living in Canada for sometime can actually feel cold- (shaking my head). I kept it to myself and tried to stay as long as I could in the water, the warm parts of it. Warm or cold, I wouldn’t have been at the beach in Canada. Finally, my cousins wanted to walk along the beach. Upon the completion of our hike, we turned and took tons of pictures. The two felt like sitting in the water a little longer. When they were busy enjoying each other’s company (as a man and wife loves to do), I quickly snuck away to the change area. I washed myself with fresh water and changed into my dry clothes. No longer cold. I returned to the vehicle, only to be asked, “why have you changed so quickly?” “The water is cold”

“COLD?!” Here it comes…”I thought you were Canadian!

What can I say, Canadians do get cold too, no? Or is it that my blood is purely Jamaican?