Let me preface this by saying I/we are most fortunate to be in Jamaica this week. The weather is wonderful. The people are off the charts friendly. This place is a real treat. We have worked plenty hard to afford the trip and time off. It has been pretty darn good.
Now, the harsh realities. First, one week is a long, long time to be away from reality. When you hustle and claw each and every day it requires an effort to simply calm down. What do you mean the phone doesn't work? What do you mean you are supposed to just lay at the beach? The Atlantic Ocean can really look that clear? And it is capable of that temperature? And where the hell are the throngs fighting for a morsel of sand? The Jersey Shore this is not.
And we are starting to realize we are not the "all inclusive" type either. How much do you have to drink/eat to make this concept work? I did my fair share on Tuesday and probably had a few bottles of rum. The result? I don't want to drink ever again. Let alone in the 90 degree heat surrounded by the countless European men in their banana hammocks and their odd children. Question: at what age should you put a bathing suit top on your daughter? Also, what male body type, if any, should be allowed to wear a speedo?
Oh, that's another story altogether. We are finding out we really don't like kids either. Sure, we have one child. And yes, we love her dearly. But she skews older and has a couple of jaded dip shits as parents. She can't help but hear us snicker at the foibles of every one we come across. Oh, and she surely noticed we changes rooms today. Yeah, we had to switch because our new neighbors had a demon spawn screaming all of last night. It would be much easier to take a couple of newlyweds making kids rather than this kid raising holy hell. This is a kid friendly place and we are trying to do our best. Couples Resorts or Sandals would probably bug us too. Maybe we should just vote ourselves off the island?
The food thing is tough to navigate too. There are a few good spots within the resort. In fact, we have had several quality meals at the restaurants on site. The portions are right too. It is the buffet that is somewhat unnerving. The cuisine is acceptable. The staff, as mentioned, is tremendous. But the reality is you are sitting in a glorified mess hall. The ocean is in view, but all you hear is the clanging of utensils. No one needs the self serve ice cream machine either. I can hear my jeans snickering at me already as I attempt to button them when I get back home. Beer. Rum. Vodka. Pizza. Ice cream. 24/7.
At least there is the beach. And again, it is spectacular. But no one told me about the solicitors that comb the sand more than the lifeguards. "Jetskiparasailing." "Cigarettes." "Needamassagebosslady?" "Dabestweedmon?" "Whatchaneedmon? Coke? Weed? Pills? Shrooms?"
If I closed my eyes for a minute I could swear I was in the parking lot of a Dead show. Oh, and I sampled some of that "best weed" too. Um, not quite.
I face less pan handling and sales pitches on a NYC weekday. And I pay far less for that. I just want to lay on my chair and hear the water. Turns out you can't really do that.
It's just a harsh reality that comes from growing up and living in the Northeast. Oh, and being a grade A, numero uno PAIN IN THE ASS!! And I readily own up to it. We like what we like. We love even less. And when we put out money for a dream vacation we want the everything. The biscuits and the beans. The no drama.
It has as much to do with expectations. Maybe we expected too much. That is ok. We are learning more each day. We are probably not resort people. We definitely are not the all inclusive type. Jamaican people are some of the best folks we have ever met. It has been a terrific week. Getting home to the dirty Jerz sounds pretty good right about now. I miss driving. I miss our dog. I miss hostility. I might even miss my phone and stupid work emails. Soon enough.
First, some more pool time and a couple more cocktails. Liver, good sense and good health be damned!!
Now, the harsh realities. First, one week is a long, long time to be away from reality. When you hustle and claw each and every day it requires an effort to simply calm down. What do you mean the phone doesn't work? What do you mean you are supposed to just lay at the beach? The Atlantic Ocean can really look that clear? And it is capable of that temperature? And where the hell are the throngs fighting for a morsel of sand? The Jersey Shore this is not.
And we are starting to realize we are not the "all inclusive" type either. How much do you have to drink/eat to make this concept work? I did my fair share on Tuesday and probably had a few bottles of rum. The result? I don't want to drink ever again. Let alone in the 90 degree heat surrounded by the countless European men in their banana hammocks and their odd children. Question: at what age should you put a bathing suit top on your daughter? Also, what male body type, if any, should be allowed to wear a speedo?
Oh, that's another story altogether. We are finding out we really don't like kids either. Sure, we have one child. And yes, we love her dearly. But she skews older and has a couple of jaded dip shits as parents. She can't help but hear us snicker at the foibles of every one we come across. Oh, and she surely noticed we changes rooms today. Yeah, we had to switch because our new neighbors had a demon spawn screaming all of last night. It would be much easier to take a couple of newlyweds making kids rather than this kid raising holy hell. This is a kid friendly place and we are trying to do our best. Couples Resorts or Sandals would probably bug us too. Maybe we should just vote ourselves off the island?
The food thing is tough to navigate too. There are a few good spots within the resort. In fact, we have had several quality meals at the restaurants on site. The portions are right too. It is the buffet that is somewhat unnerving. The cuisine is acceptable. The staff, as mentioned, is tremendous. But the reality is you are sitting in a glorified mess hall. The ocean is in view, but all you hear is the clanging of utensils. No one needs the self serve ice cream machine either. I can hear my jeans snickering at me already as I attempt to button them when I get back home. Beer. Rum. Vodka. Pizza. Ice cream. 24/7.
At least there is the beach. And again, it is spectacular. But no one told me about the solicitors that comb the sand more than the lifeguards. "Jetskiparasailing." "Cigarettes." "Needamassagebosslady?" "Dabestweedmon?" "Whatchaneedmon? Coke? Weed? Pills? Shrooms?"
If I closed my eyes for a minute I could swear I was in the parking lot of a Dead show. Oh, and I sampled some of that "best weed" too. Um, not quite.
I face less pan handling and sales pitches on a NYC weekday. And I pay far less for that. I just want to lay on my chair and hear the water. Turns out you can't really do that.
It's just a harsh reality that comes from growing up and living in the Northeast. Oh, and being a grade A, numero uno PAIN IN THE ASS!! And I readily own up to it. We like what we like. We love even less. And when we put out money for a dream vacation we want the everything. The biscuits and the beans. The no drama.
It has as much to do with expectations. Maybe we expected too much. That is ok. We are learning more each day. We are probably not resort people. We definitely are not the all inclusive type. Jamaican people are some of the best folks we have ever met. It has been a terrific week. Getting home to the dirty Jerz sounds pretty good right about now. I miss driving. I miss our dog. I miss hostility. I might even miss my phone and stupid work emails. Soon enough.
First, some more pool time and a couple more cocktails. Liver, good sense and good health be damned!!
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