Pimp my ride!

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I arrived in Jamaica after flying through Barbados and Antigua, meaning in a five hour period that morning I was in fact on four different Caribbean islands. The Norman Manley airport in Kingston is at the end of a long strip of land jutting out into the sea, with which it is level. This basically means that when the water rises, the sole road to the airport is usually washed out with flights cancelled or changed on a regular basis during the rainy season. Despite a rainy forecast the skies were clear and sunny when I landed which basically put me in a fantastic mood for what became a very random four days in Jamaica!

I was in town gatecrashing the work and hotel room of my friend Derek, who was in Jamaica for the week doing a story on the 60th anniversary of the Empire Windrush boat docking at Tilsbury in Essex on 22nd June 1948. For more details on that you can see the article Derek put on line at: http://itvlocalmeridian.blogspot.com.

I took a taxi to the Hilton hotel just up the road from the central Emancipation Park in New Kingston where Derek had left me a note saying he and cameraman Will were up in Montego Bay and would be back later that evening. So I got into the room and of course was overcome by the usual kleptomaniac tendencies staying in hotels brings out in me. The stocks were replenished every day, giving me the chance to re-steal every time the maid had been in. Despite only having one head, I'm convinced there will come a day when the three shower caps now in my possession will be integral to my survival. I had a wander around the hotel and decided to settle down at the bar for a Red Stripe. I got chatting to a couple of people from England and a good few beers later it seemed like a perfectly good idea to go back to one of their rooms to drink rum and watch ´Shark Attack 3´, an incredibly bad Jaws type film starring John Barrowman. Before succumbing to 'Shark Attack 4' Derek and Will arrived back and we all went back to bar, steadily carrying on drinking before deciding the next best move - despite them having 3 interviews to do the next day - would be to go to a nearby Jazz Club for a drink or two and then on to another club nearby called Asylum. Bounty Killer was making a special birthday appearance so security was tight. Although no-one really checked me, both Will and Derek were rather intimately frisked by an absolutely huge security woman. She went for a proper feel, cupping action and all, and I couldn't stop laughing as she attacked Derek. Both men complained later of feeling violated but I think secretly they rather enjoyed it. Once inside the club I realised just how drunk I was and that I was starting to see double so Derek and I promptly left again, walking past the hulking security woman who I think was considering copping another feel.

The next day I tagged along to the interviews which were brilliant. The first was with the Minister for Labour and Industry, Purnell Charles, who had the most interesting hairstyle in the world. His hair was literally half white-half black, practically in a straight line right down the middle of his head. Shock white and completely black, no grey patches at all. We couldn´t decide how this had come to be and whether he styled it like that specifically. Derek found it especially hard to keep focussed during the interview as his gaze kept being drawn back to old Purnell's badger-like head. I was so mesmerised I forgot to take a photo so if you get the chance and the urge takes you - Google him! It has to be seen to be believed.

We then went to speak to an immensely laid-back professor at the University of the West Indies, with this interview held in some beautiful gardens just outside the Reggae Studies Unit building. We then crossed the campus to meet the Right Honourable Edward Seaga, Prime Minister of Jamaica from 1980-89 and now a Distinguished Fellow at the University. This turned out to be excellent as on first impressions he looked near dead and perhaps a bit senile, however the minute the camera started rolling he seemed to perk up considerably. He was obviously very knowledgeable and had quite a dry sense of humour and he didn´t seem to mind when I asked for a photo with him despite clearly having nothing to do with the interview. In the afternoon, we went down to an area of Kingston called Half Way Tree for a bit of street filming. It was fine when we were just standing around chatting but the atmosphere changed completely once Will set up his camera, with the mood and comments becoming steadily more aggressive. I still don´t understand why this happened every time the camera was out but many Jamaicans really didn´t appreciate the camera being around at all. Saying that, others came up and happily chatted away, asking what was going on and giving you their perspective on the country and issues being discussed.

Back to the murders. In Trinidad the rate had reached 224 by the middle of the year but Jamaica´s murder rate for the same period stands at a phenomenal 700. With a population of only 2.73m this figure is astronomical and there were clear no-go areas across the capital. Will and Derek had already been told they wouldn´t be taken to certain areas such as Trenchtown as the risk was too high and they weren´t likely to be welcome there either. It was quite a difference up in the business district where the Hilton Hotel is based. It felt, perhaps deceptively, perfectly safe to wander around it at night and I never expected to feel that way wandering around Kingston at 4 in the morning.

That evening we propped up the hotel bar again and went out for a few drinks and a pizza at this little street restaurant up the road. After finding there was yet again no jazz at the jazz bar we decided to go back and prop the bar up again, and whilst Derek was knackered and went to bed Will and I drank Appleton rums and lemonades. Will commented on the fact they were treated completely differently to me at the bar by the bar guys, who really don´t care that too all intents and purposes if a girl is there with a guy chances are he is probably her boyfriend. They were flirting away quite happily, making sure I always had a drink and quite often getting Will's order completely wrong. However, for me it was the same with the girls who when I asked for drinks gave me one of those looks that pretty much came across like I was clearly interrupting their day with my unimportant order, however with Will and Derek it was all smiles!

On the Saturday we went up to Ocho Rios on the north coast a few hours drive away to do some more filming. It was a really chilled day out and the drive up there was amazing. Jamaica is actually really mountainous, and there was lush forest surrounding the road which for most of the way up rang alongside one of the main rivers through the area. On arrival we had a lovely fish lunch and did some filming outside Dave´s Lobster House, where Dave the owner who was quite pissed came swaggering over and slung his sweat-drenched arm around me, leeringly asking "would you like to taste my lobster?". I went and hid in the car. We went into the town itself to find Derek some music, which interesting no shops seemed to sell so in the end he bought a CD off some guy selling them out of a backpack.

Back at the hotel we got ready for my last night and after the obligatory drinks at the hotel bar we made our way to club Quad where I witnessed some of the filthiest dancing I have ever seen, and I thought Cuba was fairly intense. There were 4 floors to the club, hence the name, and we ended up on the top floor which at first was playing 80s hits and Michael Jackson tracks before changing over to dancehall and soca. This prompted a general shift in dancing to the more gyratory, grinding kind which continued for the rest of the night. One woman only had eyes for Derek, despite actually being in the club with what seemed to be her boyfriend. She deftly leant over during a break in being groped by him to let Derek know he still had "the nicest eyes" she'd ever seen. I was a little amazed by this as I could have been Derek's wife for all she knew but my presence didn't seem to stop her. She then promptly seemed to break out into a getting low to the floor routine I'm pretty sure for Derek´s benefit rather than her boyfriend's, and she could get low. I genuinely don't know how she got back up again... or back down again... or back up again. I couldn't work out whether the boyfriend was actually her pimp to be honest. Prostitution is rife in Jamaica and there were plenty of girls like that at the Hilton bar every night. But to be honest maybe it was just the Derek-appeal as he was beginning to be molested by Jamaican women on a regular basis. One night some girl at the bar grabbed Derek's ass, again I was standing right beside him at the time. Have they no shame! (It must be "the nicest eyes" eh, D?)

After a while we went downstairs to floor 3, which seemed barely lit and with a whole load of grinding going on. It was quite bizarre to watch people really getting into it/each other whilst another couple were doing exactly the same millimetres away, and then a whole load of other people were just standing around watching. All a bit voyeuristic really. It got to about half four in the morning and Derek and I went home. Me because I was knackered and him because he was likely to get molested again if he stayed there any longer. The next day Will regaled us with the story of watching people on the dancefloor grinding away and watching this guy randomly grab some girl on the dancefloor, hoik up her skirt, put his finger through her knickers, yank her backwards onto him and continue dancing by just thrusting into her from behind for a few moments. Ah, the romance. At first the dancing was quite entertaining but to tell the truth after a while it got a bit boring and the shock factor wore off. The music was excellent though, the club was packed and everyone was enjoying themselves. It was a really cool night and as we walked home it really felt so random that we were in Kingston.

The next day was just spent sorting my stuff out and going to the airport, the end of an amazing four days in Jamaica. I probably would not have gone anytime soon and I think the only things I paid for out of my own pocket were the taxi to the hotel on my first day and a few rounds of drinks. It was very unexpected and is one place where I have always perhaps believed the hype and thought would be too dangerous to visit. I was there in a very safe environment, staying in the business district and us being escorted around by the tourist board, but it was a pleasure to see Kingston and meet some fantastic characters as well as just enjoy the hospitality and warmth of the Jamaican people. And frankly, this has got to be my finest gatecrashing moment ever.

Next stop Panama.

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