Monday, March 3 — After being in the jungle at Shelter Bay marina for over a month, we were used to waking up to a cacophony of chirping birds. This morning, there were chirping birds, but they were overshadowed by crowing roosters and car traffic. The air smelled distinctly of smoke. Yup, we were back in a city. 

We were sad to report that it never rained. At 0900, Eric was at the marina office to request that the water be turned on so we could rinse the boat. While rinsing the boat had certainly helped with the salt accumulation, in order to eliminate it, we needed to hand scrub. We did some scrubbing in easily accessible spots, but we’d have to go back to scrub the rest of the boat later. We also noted that the marina’s pipes have a significant leak — no wonder they only turn them water on upon request.

This morning, we found out what the warning that the locals were too nice meant. At several different points in time, we were greeted by locals offering assorted services. And when we said no to one service, they had another and another and another service that they offered. They each kept pushing until they found something we’d buy. One roped us into buying locally grown coffee, another a jerk spice mix and jerk sauce. Both promised to procure “the best” and return later with their respective products. And in all fairness, both products were indeed great, though we suspect the markup for the delivery was huge.  

At lunchtime, we went to a café called Great Eats Cafe. We’d seen yesterday in one of the blocky shopping centers and had thought that it looked nice.

Our new friends on the Kadey Krogan joined us. The vibe on the main road was completely different than yesterday. There were tons of people out. Many were dressed up in nice clothes, appearing to be on their work lunch break. Yesterday, we’d seen few cars; today traffic was heavy. It felt very much like any other city. 

Afterwards, all five of us walked over to the cruise ship terminal, located directly north of the marina.

Beyond it, on the south side of the channel between the harbors, was a small public beach and a waterfront park with a nicely kept lawn. It was lovely and felt very much like what people expect the stereotypical Caribbean beach to look like.

Next to the cruise ship terminal was a spa. Christi stopped in to ask if they did haircuts. They did not. In the Jamaican too nice tradition, they told us to wait a few minutes and they would arrange a haircut for Christi. While we waited, one of the ladies showed us their facility and talked Christi into getting a facial. It was great and she’s glad she did it. She was told to return at 1730 for the haircut. A hairdresser had arrived with a mobile kit. The spa set them up in a room with a regular chair. Christi was just looking for a basic trim and she got exactly what she’d wanted.  

The ladies in the spa had told us that cruise ships rarely come into Port Antonio. They’d also confirmed that water and electricity were expensive in Port Antonio — they didn’t think the marina was making a profit from the cruisers.

The consensus seemed to be that the best restaurant in town was Roots 21, located inland to the southwest of the marina. After Christi’s haircut, we went there for dinner. One of the people who’d approached us earlier saw that we were leaving, asked us where we were going, and insisted on escorting us. Here was the sunset — or at least what we could see of it — during our walk.

We’re actually glad that he escorted us because it was a longer and scarier walk than we’d anticipated, and it was getting dark. The sidewalks were broken in many spots, and it was a several foot drop into the sewage drain below the sidewalk. Walking along the road in the heavy traffic was disconcerting. Eric gave him some money for walking us. 

Upon arrival, another gentleman, named Ed, who’d approached us in the marina suddenly materialized and invited himself to join us for dinner, our treat. We’re still not sure how he pulled it off, but again, it was the too nice.

The food was great, the portion sizes were large and we felt it was good value for the money. Many of the traditional local dishes were actually of Indian origin, brought by the Indian workers that had been imported by the British during the colonial era. We tried an appetizer called Talkari, which was mashed pumpkin, and it was fantastic. 

 We took a slightly different route back because it was better lit, and we passed this sign.

Our walk back was uneventful, though we’re glad that we had flashlights on our phones. Given that the cars wouldn’t be able to see us in the dark, we stayed on the sidewalks, and it would have been dangerous without the extra light.