Let me tell you. My honeymoon was the bomb.
** Air conditioning
** the smell of Jerk chicken
** Air conditioning
** late night beach walks
** Hobie cats
** Did I mention air conditioning?
I'm married to a wanderer. He likes to wander off places. Like Tibet. And Everest.
While yes, Jamaica is VERY much on the beaten path...especially since you have places in Negril that very much advertise that they are the party capital of the world for the just passed teeny bopper spring break set (ahem), it is definitely on the beaten path.
But here's the thing.
When we think about "where next" a lot of folks are on the "You'll never top Everest" tip. Duely noted. Competitive as we are, we don't feel a need to one up every trip we take.
So for the honeymoon, it became what is the best deal we can get for a long time away from crazyville (preferably right next door to Margaritaville - check) but with the option to see/experience some "real life". Remember...I got to experience rural Chinese toilets on our last big trip before the honeymoon and all.
All said, I loved my honeymoon so much that the ONLY (and I do mean ONLY) issue I had was really a non-issue rendered moot because, as I mentioned, one of my fave things about Jamaica was the air conditioning. Mostly, because that place was hot as a MUG. I mean come on.
I lived in Ujamaa at Cornell and I attended my first and last sweatbox only to get a cool glimpse of what visiting any of the island nations my pan-African people had come from. No joke that the university was really good about making sure the habitat was kept hospitable for us. I'm not saying...just cause, you know...I'm from Texas and we got heat too. Just not like island heat.
Earlier this week, when my better half in all of probably 7 minutes (cause he's fast like that) forwards me an email to a place that shall not be named, I'm game. I mean really. Any place that I need to sleep with a net and be mindful of the lack of reliable electricity sounds like the trip of a lifetime to me. (And it was honey...it was).
This morning, he wakes up (well not really since he doesn't sleep anymore) and asks me:
"So...you do know that this place is like Jamaica right?"
Of course I do...that is why I want to go.
"But it is like Jamaica with no air conditioning"
"Oh...and did I mention that they say you need a flashlight to go to the bathroom at night so that you don't step on the crabs in your room...I mean we're THAT CLOSE to the beach."
[really silent and then]
"Well, it's cool that it is on the beach."
"Oh yeah about that. We should also watch out for scorpions."
I'm from the desert. El Paso to be exact. I quit Girl Scouts the week after my troop leader came screaming out of her garage because she had been stung by a scorpion. I've never seen a real live one (well, because the one I saw that day was squished dead) and I'd like to keep it that way.
For the record, my troop split right after that because the leaders didn't get along. But I like to tell it as I do above because that makes it a bit more dramatic and special.