5 April 2007

During the whole broadening my horizons thing that Lady of Leisure was doing for me, where she was helping me break out of socialising solely with work colleagues, we discovered we actually quite like one couple, Dorothy and Scarecrow. Dorothy has always been part of the first wives club, a founding member no less, and LoL has always considered her one of her closest friends here and over the last few weeks I have been getting on pretty well with the Scarecrow. We decided that we should work a little on that friendship before they too left Jamaica. They are on their way to Oz via another expat gig in Dubai.

To that end we invited them around to dinner (with or without munchkins), and thankfully they chose without. We packed little madam and Wee Lad off to bed early and settled down to prepare. Lady of Leisure, since we have moved to Jamaica, has gradually annexed the kitchen from me. It used to be my realm, particularly for entertaining but tonight I am reduced to throwing together a simple roast pepper and parmesan starter. Main course are provided by LoL with a Chilli Chicken Ramen followed by Melt in the middle Chocolate pots. Such a mixture of flavours, matching wine was going to be a problem. I cleverly decided that rather than the usual matching rules of cut or cover , I would smother and keep copious quantities flowing all night.

Conversation flowed as easily as the wine and before we realised it was after 3am. Thankfully next day was a holiday, though our next batch of visitors were arriving. Being Good Friday we had given the help the day off as well, which meant that we had to deal with the aftermath of the dinner party, clear our own heads and start all over again.

3 April 2007

Following on from the work Lady of Leisure completed for my company, she has been asked to do a little bit of work for the Superbreaks group. Unfortunately the little bit of that empire that needs the work is Hedonism III. Nonetheless she was determined to give the place the benefit of the doubt rather than reject the work out of hand. Still she took two friends for moral support and all though it might turn into a girly giggly away day.

Apparently not. Lady of Leisure was shown round the complex, while the manager of the resort explained the business in a very straight forward and sober fashion. All the while the nudity and cavorting going on around them, was so blatant that far from being titillating, it was disgusting and seedy.

LoL could not get out of there fast enough and categorically refuses to be associated with the place. They can build their own websites.

23 March 2007

Wee Lad and I flew home, though we nearly didn’t make it. Lady of Leisure has got the cricket bug from last week and had attended the Ireland West Indies match. There was a distinct possibility that she would now make it in time to drop us to the airport, al the more so after she bumped into the housewives choice, Captain Denis.

We treated ourselves to world traveler plus and Wee Lad was an absolute pleasure to travel with both ways. He even carried his own rucksack of toys and was incredibly patient with the pantomime that calls itself airport security I think the idea behind the airport security is that any concerted terrorist will have blown himself up in the lengthy queues long before he ever gets airside

We spend a few pleasant and relaxing days with HRH the Queen Mother and I even managed to get a few m.o.t. checks in – teeth, eyes etc before the hectic schedule of catching up with friends. So little time and though not quite so many friends but enough to seriously eat into family time. One week at home is just not enough.

It was nice being home but I found that the romanticed notion I had been carrying for the last few months was a little unfounded. Weather was good and I quite liked the relative chill to Jamaica, but the people just looked miserable, and the town looked grimier than I’d expected. Having said that, shopping was great though and Cd’s and DVD’s a plenty were smuggled back Dublin was good for a brief soujourn I had there to renew wee lads passport, and it at least looked like a city with a purpose. I managed to sneak a few hours in with the Ginger Ninja who is incredibly excited about his spawning. The first steps to a great Ginger dynasty.

Home town just looked a little parochial. My time in Jamaica might be broadening my horizons, but it is definitely shrinking the limits of the home town. I won’t be rushing back to be a captain of industry there

18 March 2007

I want to die………………….

17 March 2007

Oh what a day! Quite a few of us took tickets to Ireland v Pakistan in cricket. Donning official green jerseys, we trekked down to the party stand. Expecting a short day we began drinking the complimentary drinks immediately washing down the breakfast patties. A huge turnout from the paddies with a good deal of support lent from locals and expatriate English. A few early Pakistan wickets hardly registered as they settled down in the early middle order to put together a score. Then without warning Andre Botha came up with a spell worthy of whatever the cricketing equivalent of “Roy of the Rovers” is. Pure dreams and when Inzamam was out for one, the red stripe fuelled bravado led a few to say that the impossible might just be possible. All out for 132. The bars ran out of beer and had to be restocked for the second half.

Lots of signing (including what must have been the worst world cup anthem for any team in any sport) and screaming and though Irish wickets fell, runs were ticking over until the rain came. Brave and foolish lads, they resumed in the darkness despite having already won under Duckworth Lewis. Still when TJ knocked a big six to take the score to 133 (five more than needed on a reduced target) Then the party began in earnest. We had been drinking for 11 hours straight by now, and keeping upright on the rain soaked bleachers was proving difficult. The ground staff were trying desperately to eject us fearing an almighty catastrophe. Then it happened – the Irish team cam e out to see all the commotion and in a reverse pitch invasion joined us. The stewards gave up and the pa rang out with the sounds of U2’s “Beautiful Day” and the sky was awash with tricolours. There was hardly a dry eye in the stadium, but that was more to do with Red Stripe and the woeful quality of the singing than the emotion of the win.

14 March 2007

Part two in a long running saga of goodbye. We gathered together the gang for a last hurrah for the painting thieves, and headed off to Macs. As usual the service in Macs was impeccable, though especially given the crowd that we are in, this is only to be expected. I managed to finagle my way into choosing the wine and went for the value Barolo, unquestionably the best wine there that is not a Premier Cru.

I surprised myself by having two fish courses, will squid and lobster but close enough. Both courses had Asian overtones which worked well, the calamari with Thai noodle salad started particularly good. The food was good, service great and wine only slightly overpriced, so why am I always a little disappointed every time I go to Macs? Perhaps it is because nothing changes on the menu, the food itself is not fantastic despite the reputation, and despite the attentativeness of the waiters, they still show their Jamaican roots, by bring out side dishes when you are completing you entrees and the food temperature is variable.

I seem to be feeling less of an outsider with this crowd, and this is purely down to the effort expounded by the Lady of Leisure in dragged me along to the odd soiree. Before long with the wine continuing to flow, the boys had broken out the cigars, moved to one end of the table to discuss politics and other matters of state. I don’t know whether it is overt or subconscious, but so often I look at myself and the crowd and I feel that I am play acting at the great colonial gent. Though I seriously doubt in real colonial times, the after dinner discussions ran to all time favourite punk bands and how odious Margaret Thatcher was.

3 March 2007

It is the start of a long process of goodbyes. Nearly every one of Lady of Leisure’s cabal is leaving Jamaica, some for expatriate pastures new, some for home. I don’t know whether this is a direct result of her trying to ingratiate me more with her crowd or just an unfortunate coincidence. It is a feature of expatriate living that people are always coming or going. Friendships and cliques are always in a state of flux, which is a reason for the high degree of superficiality. To LoL though this feels like a new start, rather than normal churn, and she is rightly quite nervous and / or annoyed about the whole situation.

One silver lining in this cloud though is the inevitable party to clear the drinks cabinet. A party arranged at the paining thieves house turned out to be a very enjoyable day eating canapés, drinking cosmopolitans and watching the kids run amok over the expansive lawns. How very civilized.

27 February 2007

Work changed today. We completed on a huge transaction that has been the culmination of my work for the last year. So why does it feel like coitus interruptus?

It wasn’t the climax I was looking for which in fact was indeed the whole reason for taking the position in the first place. All the lost weekends, late nights and stress on the family, the grey hair and the sloughs of depression - all for nothing. Well not nothing, but it is very much second best. I need to have a long hard think about what I am doing here.

16 February 2007

Lady of Leisure has convinced me that I need to be a little more sociable and I have reluctantly agreed to attend a Valentines Ball in the Hilton Hotel. We will be meeting members of the first wives club and their respective husbands, all of whom know each other, and I will be very much the outsider. I have been assured that despite the black tie reference on the ticket, Jamaica casual custom means that one would look ridiculously out of place. As I park the car, I notice our table mates crossing the carpark and all treh males are dressed in Black tie finery. Lady of Leisure will fit right in with what she is wearing, I on the other hand am wearing a light gray brushed cotton suit and open necked shirt. It is not an auspicious start to the evening and I am left very self conscious feeling very much the outsider.

I always find in socially awkward situations, alcohol is either a great social lubricant or failing that a suitable refuge. The tickets for the evening included a free bar and though the wine was like cough medicine, the gin and tonics were fine. Ties and tongues were loosened and before too long the boys in the black tie finery looked just as scruffy as me.

The gins must have been stronger than I imagined as at some point in the evening I was coaxed out to the dance floor, a place I have studiously avoided since making a complete fool of myself at he Ginger Ninja’s wedding.

The highlight of the evening was a silent auction, of which only one painting interested me. I found myself in a bidding war with 2 other members of my table plus one person unknown. The gin gave me a steely determination, along with a rather casual attitude to the money I was bidding.

I won, however I was astute / alert enough to see that one of my competitors was quite upset. She and her husband are leaving Jamaica shortly having served their sentence, and they really wanted the painting as a memento. Being ever so generous, I retracted my last bid and the winner defaulted to them.

I wish I hadn’t, the painting really was pretty good, and I am never likely to meet these people again in my life. Bah Humbug!

31 January 2007

I’m getting used to Jamaica and I should have seen this coming. Things only get done when they absolutely have to be done and never before. The owners of the new house knew I had to be out of my old place on 31 January and it was unsurprising to get a message that that is the day we can move. Of course the house is not quite ready but would be habitable by the end of the day.

Like an Amish barn raising hoards of work men are running through the house, plumbing, wiring, welding. Hoards of other work men unloading the lorry. A veritable hive of activity, so that even I had to take the afternoon off work, though I was simply directing human traffic. Not too much broken in the shipment, just a few picture frames and a chair.

Finally at around 7 we got rid of everybody and sat down to enjoy first night in the new house, and it appears that the rental agreement did not specify light-bulbs, so we consequently got none! We had very few creature comforts with the different voltage here from back home so we had to rely on old fashioned conversation (and alcohol) to entertain ourselves. M&F of Leisure told us repeated how much they helped, though beyond putting away foodstuffs in the kitchen cupboards, I didn’t quite see the fruits of their toils.

It was pleasant sitting on our own furniture in the evening admiring the new surroundings sipping rum and squinting against the one bare light bulb we found among our chattels. Wee Lad decided that the house is not for him as it did not come with a t.v. an stormed off to bed in a huff.

28 January 2007

Back again from another weekend in my favourite part of the country, Portland. Things are becoming very routine, same Goblin Hill Villa, same housekeepers, same menus, same rum punch party on as Saturday night with the same overly exuberant dancing from the same German lady. In an earlier life, I would scorn anyone who would be so unadventurous as to repeat holidays over and over again revisiting the same places. Having now spend the best part of year in Jamaica, I can whole heartedly recommend doing this. If you find somewhere that has acceptable service and the quality is relatively consistent, then why try anywhere else? You are only risking disappointment.

The only difference on this trip is that myself and Little Madam followed the rest of the family up to Portland after work / school on the Friday. This was my first time driving through rural Jamaica in the dark and it was a hair-raising experience. The roads here are constantly rutted and pot holed, but only on this journey did I realize that pot holes are nocturnal creatures and very sociable ones at that, congregating in their hundreds on roads that only a few weeks earlier seemed relatively clear.

On Saturday, we spent our usual morning on Longbay. I got to try out my new kite that the Lady of Leisure had bought me as a “funky” birthday present. This may be a very clever excuse for nit finding anything I would actually want in Jamaica, but in actual fact I did find it cool and was well chuffed with it. I had never flown a kite before but the principles are straight- forward enough, and I’m a clever lad. After a few short minutes, I had the kite flying albeit on a short string. I was tentatively getting used to the tension in the string and the reactions to eth gusts, and pretty successfully in my opinion. My style was obviously not flamboyant for one spectator who confidently strode over to me to show me how it was done. A young fit lad with no t-shirt, he was trying to impress the two girls he had bee sitting with. Within a minute he had my kite stuck firmly in a palm tree, although this was not necessarily bad from his perspective as he was impressively nimble in rescuing the kite. The next attempt lasted a little longer but the crash was even more impressive lodging firmly in the thatched roof of a beach hut. The lad knew when to stop and thankfully went off to rescue the kite. I seriously doubted whether I would be agile enough to get to the roof, and if I did get there, there is no way the roof would have held.

I don’t know how impressed his lady friends were but I think he should leave the kite flying to the experts, I’m a natural. Not 10 minutes after its latest rescue, the kite was at its maximum height soaring trying to escape into the mountains in the backdrop.

21 January 2007

On account of the visitors we made a bit of an effort organizing a full event calendar. Lady of Leisure has been a superb hostess while I have been at work. The highlights of Kingston are quickly ticked off; Bob Marley museum, lunch at Strawberry hill, lunch at Devon House, walking off all those lunches round Emancipation Park.

Having exhausted the delights of Kingston, we took the Mother and Father of Leisure out to experience a little more of Jamaica. First stop was Jakes and treasure beach.

Jakes advertises itself as boho chic, though I felt the villa (Mussels) was just a little tawdry. Jakes is not a good place for kids with an unprotected sheer drop off the jagged rocks into the sea. The idea of the pool is good with sea water being constantly pumped up, but it just looks like a dirty swimming pool. The pizza parlour on site is great though and very coolly decorated with posters and album covers form Jamaican artists going back to the sixties. The “grown up” food was the standard Jamaican fare, though it was presented for visitors (no bones and the jerk was mild!) We all adjourned to the bar after dinner which was lively and friendly. The lights around the grounds and the sounds of the sea are wonderful and I can understand why many people love Jakes as their get-away of choice.

When in Treasure Beach it is obligatory to do the Black River safari with housewives choice, Captain Denis. Will the ladies drooled over our guide, we got taken out across the bay to the mouth of the black river stopping briefly to view a pod of wild dolphins show off and cavort around our boat. The black river itself feels impossibly tropical and I could not help but think I caught in a wild life documentary scooting up the river, the noise of our engine scattering egrets and our bow waves breaking over the mangroves. Salt water crocodiles blinking lazily at us and buzzards circling gave a thrill of danger that probably did not actually exist. Further up the river we stopped under the tree canopy at a local swimming hole. The “lovely” Captain assured us that the crocodiles would never come up this far, though I could see a few worried expressions when myself and Little Madam dived in. The water was icy, having just flowed straight down from the mountains, under jungle canopy most of the way, and so clear and fresh. (The “Black” in the name comes from the mud on the river bed.)

After the exercise, we got back into the boat and a he return to the sea for lunch in the Pelican Bar. The pelican bar rests on a sand bank about a mile off the coast and despite it rickety looks feels quite solid. Lunch was either fish or Lobster though both were very tasty and washed down with lashings of Red Strip. There is no plumbing in the Pelican bar so use of the facilities means a quick walk around on the sand bar, the water is only a few feet deep. At least 3 other boats were tied up and the bar was buzzing with conversation of excited tourists. We got chatting (whether we liked it or not) to an American family, who insisted they were anything but. The grandson was Irish, because his other Grandfather was whereas the Grandmother in tow was Dutch though she could trace her lineage back 600 years to the same area of Pennsylvania where she currently lived. Now I know the US has tightened it immigration policies, but 600 years of a naturalization process is taking the piss! A pleasant few hours, though the wind can be a little chilly out on the Pelican Bar.

Collecting our chattels to return to Kingston we discovered that someone had stolen the indicators from the new car. I wonder how much of market there is for knock off Suzuki indicators but I can’t imagine that the value would be greater than the effort of getting the things off the car, especially as the thief had obviously gone to quite considerable effort into not damaging the car in any other way.

17 January 2007

Mother and Father of Leisure arrive in Kingston today. They have been clued into making a quick dash from the plane to immigration, knowing our address and what to expect walking through the airport to the chaotic scenes at the door. We checked the flight was on time and all was in hand. Unfortunately Lady of Leisure, in a moment of insanity, agreed to do some work for my company, and although it is meant to be part-time and flexible, like a gas, the work has expanded to fill all time allocated to it and still continues to push at the sides. I’m glad to see I’m not the only one afflicted. Consequently, and because M&F of Leisure followed our quick path through the airport instructions to the letter, we received a call informing us they were outside waiting before we had even left for the airport!. I put my “fancy” new car in over-drive and made the airport in record time and thankfully moods were still upbeat when we arrived.

Not an auspicious start to their stay but they are experienced travelers and not fazed or intimidated in the slightest.

15 January 2007

I took receipt of a brand new car today. One that feels safe and I will not be (too) embarrassed to pick up the Mother and Father of Leisure when they come out to visit this week. They are our first visitors so we need to make a bit of an effort to convince others to follow. Its only a Suzuki jeep and its bright red, so its embarrassing enough.

12 January 2007

Customs clearance day and time to see if my little work around is effective. I have managed to convince a colleague to say to customs that the shipment is in fact hers. She was understandably nervous as she has no idea what it contains, so asked me to come along. This made me nervous as I am worried I will be recognised from my earlier shipment. The story became I was the colleagues new boyfriend and sitting in front of the official I was panicking but played it cool. Few “personal” jokes aside with my new “girlfriend” that she picked up very quickly helped maintain the illusion. There was one mild panic moment when the official looked up from the plethora of forms with a face like thunder and bellowed to a subordinate. Thankfully his ire was directed at the subordinate who had stapled the forms together in the wrong order, practically a criminal offence in a bureaucracy like Jamaica.

That slight hiccough aside, everything passed off without a hitch. So much so, that I might consider getting into this smuggling lark. Just move everything at 2:45pm on a Friday when Custom officals just wish to stamp forms and get out of there rather than inspect merchandise.
I must reward my colleague handsomely as she has just saved me a small fortune in duty. I left elated and excited about some of my imported creature comforts – sofa without hideous chintz patterns, plain white plates and Reidel wine glasses.

11 January 2007

Work must have got wind of me complaining and decided to show me what long hours really are. I worked 22 hours yesterday - In at 7am and did not leave the office again until 5 am this morning. My brain ceased to function some time round 3am. Home for a quick shower and change and back in for 7 am. Brain still not functioning.

I was not alone in this marathon work-fest and I shouldn't complain. This was closure on part two of what I came here for and something that momentous should require effort both physical and mental to mark the occasion.

3 January 2007

Back at work and I’m being made feel guilty for having yesterday off. Absolutely no consideration or credit is given for past effort; if you happen to not be around when one, quite possibly trivial, piece of information is requested. It appears I am effectively meant to be on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and 52 weeks of the year. If my boss wants to work, then I am expected to as well. Modern communications have a lot to answer for, and yes I do appreciate the irony in that statement.

I know I am relatively well paid but the company appears to be trying to extract as much value as possible out of me. On hours worked, I’m no better off than I was six years ago and with the added hardship of expatriate living and not seeing my family as much as I would like, I have to consider is this all worth it? Do I really want to go through the second year of my contract?
On the personal side of things, work has not yet begun on house despite then wanting us in by 1 January when we initially enquired. We agree 16th, but we all know that is ridiculously optimistic

31 December 2006

Its not a good day to be reflective of the year just past as my mood is overwhelmingly upbeat about the whole situation.

It was New Best Friends’ birthday, well the female half anyway, so we spent a long lazy morning under the shade of a palm on Longbay, with a tab running in one of the beachside bars. The waves were up, so myself and Little Madam spent a few hours getting tossed about like driftwood, no mean feat given my considerable heft. My aging joints eventually said enough, and a long recuperative lounge in the sand was called for with numerous medicinal Red Stripes.

As the day lengthened, the beach began to get maddeningly crowded. In actual fact there may have only been a few dozen others, but after the bliss of owning the beach in the morning and with the hawkers creeping out of the woodwork in the early afternoon, we decided that the pleasure had gone, so we all scooped up the kids and headed back, stopping for Jerk in Boston for a bite of lunch.

Mickey’s Jerk hut is fast becoming a family institution. We all have our order, though mine is pork while the others take chicken. Lady of Leisure is coming round to the pork which is the more traditional meat and much tastier, but certainly more spiced. If you want a recommendation, take a half pound of pork with some scotch ends. You can take it away, but if the speaker stacks are going up, hang around to eat on one of the walls and quench the fir on you lips with lashings of ridiculously cheap Red Stripe and coconut water. The place would be shut down but health and safety in the blink of an eye at home, but the carcasses are barbequed on boughs of all spice wood and the flavours are certainly worth the initial leap of faith in the first order.

Back at Goblin Hill, ours and NBF’s housekeepers had prepared a huge buffet for us, and the entire population of Portland apparently. Goblin Hill being a sociable little venue and given the size of the expatriate community in Kingston we were right to assume we would know most of the guests there. We got together and saw in the new year in fine style with Champagne for the ladies and rum and Cohibas for the boys.

At some point during the evening, it seemed perfectly reasonable to decide that it was an insult to our housekeepers in particular and Jamaicans in general, that we had not finished the beautifully prepared buffet. Indeed, we had barely made a noticeable dent in the vast quantities of food. We recruited our fellow revelers and systematically dispatched teams to dump platefuls of food in the farthest corners of the grounds around Goblin Hill. How obvious this would be in the morning did not concern a single one of us a jot.
Job done we settled down to the serious business of entertaining ourselves for the ensuring few hours. By 4am I was signing from the Oasis songbook with a senior work colleague accompanying me on acoustic guitar. The remainder of our party kept quiet and I am unsure whether they were awestruck or more likely dumbstruck. Actually too drunk to talk may also play a part.