Jamaica: Playing Bond Girls at the Goldeneye

We rarely go back to a place. After all, there are so many places to visit in jamaica and dear to our hearts, mostly because of the people. Especially Bernard Suarez, our friend and tour guide whom we have had the pleasure of knowing for close to ten years.

He had seen Roxy and me at our worst, broken-hearted and broken down after my divorce. Picking us up from the airport, he witnessed the emotional destruction and went to work nourishing our two souls. “Don’t worry, mon.” he said. “This island has the power to heal the deepest wounds.” And he was right.  

Last year, Brian and I celebrated our anniversary on the enchanted Caribbean Island. Now Roxy, my soon-to-be USC grad and Brian’s son Tate, a cowboy studying ranch management at Montana State are joining us for spring break. We are ready to make lasting memories and deepen the bonds of our newly blended family. When Bernard spots our crew at the airport, he greets us with an enormous smile and warm hugs, repeating, “There you are! Ya mon, ya mon, ya mon!”

Getting Our Jerk on at Scotchie’s

Bernard asks, “Is anyone hungry? What do you say we get some jerk chicken at Scotchie’s? There’s nothing like good jerk to lift the spirits, mon.” Bernard’s jerk wisdom is spot on. The chicken at Scotchie’s is spicy and tender. We wash it down with Red Stripe and sink into the open-air dining experience. The massive charcoal grills are loaded with hundreds of chicken pieces, cooked and served by the smiling staff. With a full belly and a beer buzz, our mood shifts into vacation mode.

Checking into the Goldeneye

This is where Ian Fleming typed out 2,000 words a day, breaking his writer’s block to create James Bond and Casino Royale, the first of his 13 James Bond novels. All were written in his bedroom at Goldeneye. Three of the books--Dr. No, Live and Let Die, and The Man with the Golden Gun--are set in Jamaica.

There’s a magnetic quality here that has attracted creatives for decades. I’m feeling this energy as we drive the palm-tree lined dirt road, passing breezy bungalows with thatched roofs. Imagined by a Jamaican architect, Goldeneye is home to a verdant garden set against the water, dense with flowering plants and birdlife. We drink in the beachy vibe of it all. The best time to visit jamaica can be anytime between December to April making it an ideal and optimal weather for beach vacations. Roxy is giddy with happiness. Looking at her iPhone, she reads from the hotel’s website, “It says that Sting wrote ‘Every Breath You Take’ here!”  

Once inside the storied residence turned boutique hotel, Roxy, Brian and I act like tour guides for Tate, who is seeing the place for the first time. We direct his eyes to the framed photos of famous guests and memorabilia of Ian Fleming’s time living here, and then down to the view of the sandy beach. “Wow, this is cool,” Tate says still wearing his cowboy clothes. “You’re going to love kayaking and paddle boarding in the lagoon,” Brain says. Tate kicks off his boots and says, “I’m ready.”

Knocking Back Rum Punch  

As our bags are whisked away to our two-story beach bungalow, we are escorted to the open-air seaside restaurant known as Bizot Bar. We have arrived just in time for cocktails and order Goldeneye’s signature drink made with rum, pineapple juice, and lime. The walls are painted cobalt blue, the square columns are papered with reggae record covers and concert posters, the chairs are wicker, and the vibe is very barefoot and bohemian--no doubt courtesy of the proprietor, Island Records Founder Chris Blackwell. Although the hotel is full, it feels like we have the place to ourselves.

The menu offers “locally fresh from the sea and the tree.” Tate orders grilled fish with slow-cooked peppers and roasted okra, which is flavorful and fabulous. I savor every bite of curry goat stew. Roxy and Brian relish coconut shrimp, and we all share curry fries. The aromas and the gorgeous view erase any residue or our lives back home. Looking out at the horizon, we see both Low Cay Beach and the lagoon, aquamarine in all their splendor. A single fishing boat glides by as the sun sets over our shoulders, turning the horizon golden.

Visiting the Hotel of No Problem  

The next morning, we are reunited with our beloved Bernard. We all pile into his van and travel nearly two hours up the coast. He fills our time with tidbits about the island. “Here we are passing the Hotel of No Problem,” he says pointing to a particularly colorful cemetery. “You can check in, but you can’t check out!” We see graves adorned with objects the deceased would like to have in the afterlife, such as castles, airplanes, and motorcycles. It looks more like a miniature golf course than a place of everlasting rest.

Acting Like Castaways in Portland 

Soon, we are in Portland, a hidden gem discovered by the shipwrecked movie star, Errol Flynn. It was originally meant to be the tourist area of Jamaica, and it was for many decades. That is until they built Montego Bay Airport, which put the focus on Montego Bay, Negril and Ocho Rios instead. Now Portland is a hideaway for the rich and famous.

Just past the parish’s main town of Port Antonio, the first stop on our tour of the area is Boston Bay, the birthplace of Jerk Chicken. When we turn onto the single lane dirt road lined with jerk shacks, Bernard directs us to the Gold Tooth Bar, his favorite and the multiple winner of the annual jerk festival. Just like at Scotchie’s, the chicken and pork are made over an open grill with aluminum roofing set on top to seal the juices. What’s different is how meaty, succulent, and spicy the meat is, especially when you add the homemade chili sauce. As the owner brings out baskets of food, he says with a big grin, “Get your f-ing knives and spoons ready because we are going to serve something right now.” Forget the utensils, we eat with our hands, licking our fingers and washing it down with Red Stripe.

Afterwards, we travel to the famed Blue Lagoon to see where the film of the same name was made. We park with little fanfare next to a small marquis strewn with a few plastic chairs and, of course, a grill loaded with jerk chicken. Ringo, the owner of a souvenir booth and captain of a small motorboat takes us around the lagoon. We skim over the deepest blue water—a mixture of fresh and salt waters. The water is so clear, you can see the large sea turtles.

We circle Monkey Island where Brooke Shields once sunbathed between takes. On top of the mountains surrounding the lagoon are large estates. Ringo points up, “There’s Naomi Campbell’s house, that’s where Snoop Dog lives, he’s next door to Shaggy. Look over here, on the shoreline, that’s where Tom Cruise filmed the bar scene in ‘Cocktail.’”

When we return to the little dock, Bernard is waiting. Camera in hand, he takes pictures of us beaming in Ringo’s red wooden boat.

Rafting on the Rio Grande

We pile into the car and drive up into the mountains towards the Rio Grande River. Tate loves the colorful homes and lush tropical landscape overflowing with pineapple, mango, banana trees, and other vegetation. He says, “If I lived in Jamaica, I’d want to be in the mountains.” Bernard agrees and adds, “You gonna love rafting. It’s the old way here.”

We arrive in time for a sunset cruise. Climbing into two extra-long bamboo rafts, we set out to float with the current. Dating back to the 1840s, the rafts originally transported bananas from plantations further inland to harbors, such as the one in Port Antonio. Sailing next to Roxy and Tate, we see our city girl and cowboy fall deep into conversation. Brian and I swell with pride and soak up the untouched beauty. There’s not another soul in sight except for an occasional cow standing in a banana grove.

Dining at the Stylish Harmony Hall

The next day, we ask Bernard to take us back to our favorite restaurant on the island. A former plantation, Harmony Hall is now home to the island’s best cuisine. It’s an elegant spot with baby pink stucco trimmed with white lattice work, pink and green tile floors, French woven café seating, and large framed mirrors. You could spend the day playing croquet on the lawn and sipping gin and tonics. Brian and Tate certainly want to, but the food is too good to pass up. Fresh fish, chicken, and lobster mac and cheese are just a few of the dishes we intend not to miss out on. Two sisters created the place and if you love it as much as we do, you’ll want to pick up the cookbook and handmade clothing and home accessories in the well-curated shop on the second floor.

Hiking Up Dunn’s Falls

Bellies full, we are ready to hike up Dunn’s Falls. We start up the smooth rocks and brave rushing waters in a human chain, holding hands together. Loving every minute of the climb, we are laughing from the adrenaline. Watching our fellow adventurers slip and slide over the rocks, we grab onto one another more tightly while cheering everyone onward. The beauty of the wild and vibrant jungle around us is supreme. Andrew, our guide, shows us where to step and pulls us up when needed. We splash and laugh like toddlers.

Swinging in the Blue Hole

Ocho Rios is named after the eight rivers discovered by the Spanish who once ruled the island. The natural tropical beauty of Jamaica is second to none, there are so many places to visit in jamaica to explore, Nowhere does it come to life like at the Blue Hole. Yesterday, one of the drivers at the Goldeneye told us to visit. “Big recommendation, mon!” he said as he described the place. So, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a new adventure.

Aptly named for its crystal-clear blue water (pure enough to drink), the Blue Hole is a series of waterfalls flowing from a mountain spring into a rushing river. Our guides are Rick and Dave who take our hands and guide us up the falls past the pot brownie stand, the mini bar, and smoker where chicken is slowly cooking. This is natural, laid-back Jamaica.

We climb to the top of a dramatic waterfall. Dave takes my hand and says, “Step here, mommy.” Roxy and Tate grab onto a rope and swim across the river. They climb a wooden staircase to a high platform and one by one jump in. Roxy holds her nose and does a jack knife; Tate effortlessly rolls forward with force into a back flip. When we are reunited, the four of us pose for pictures with the falls as a backdrop.

Moving downriver, we stop at a smaller waterfall with a rope swing. Tate jumps into the air and lands like a dolphin in the deep blue water. Roxy trips and falls in. She surfaces and yells out, “Nailed it!” On our last stop, we all swim at the base of a third water fall and laugh and dive, feeling amazingly refreshed.

After all the excitement, we change into dry clothes and head to Bernard’s house for his wife’s birthday party. When the car pulls up, his wife Carleen and four-year-old daughter Abcde are waving excitedly. We feel like we’ve come home to family we haven’t seen in ages.

Carleen has grilled fish in foil and roasted yams and breadfruit. Bernard breaks out his DJ gears and spins the greatest hits of the early 2000s as we meet neighbors and friends. Sitting down to eat in their cozy home, we’re surrounded by gardens where the family grows their own vegetables. It’s a house of love, and we are happy to celebrate together.

Back at the hotel, we are tired, but not ready for bed. Roxy finds a backgammon set and asks, “Who knows how to play?” Brian grabs our complementary bottle of Blackwell Rum and starts pouring as Tate leads Roxy through her first game. Inspired by Bernard’s DJing, I play some of my favorite rock hits of the ‘70’s on my iPhone and we laugh and play late into the night.

Dancing with Rastafarians

After a day of swimming and paddleboarding in the Goldeneye’s lagoon, I step out onto the balcony of our beach house. My view has shifted since our arrival five days earlier. I feel warmth bloom in my belly and rise to my head, which is suddenly fizzy with delight. Experiencing more of the real Jamaica, I’ve eased into the pace.

The water glistens, the palm trees stand strong, and the mountains rise up to meet the bay. The tide is in front of me, but it’s fading from view. I feel safe and easy. Brian comes out to admire the view and puts his arm around me. It’s almost time to recognize the Jamaican Full Moon. A bar has been set up on the hotel’s Playscape, along with a Rastafarian drum circle and bonfire to burn our worries. In the land of “no worries,” nothing could be more magical than this sacred ritual.

As I watch Brian jump into the scene and dance with the band, I think to myself “there’s really nowhere like Jamaica.” You may come for the sun, water, sky, and rich green landscape, but what will settle deeply into your heart is the love you get from every person you meet, the unmistakable flavor of the food, the wisdom of the Rastafarians, and the music and culture that speak to what matters most above all else: One Love.

Previous
Previous

The Basque Country: On The Border of Great Taste

Next
Next

Guayaquil, Ecuador: An Unexpected Detour