Discovering the Charms of Montego Bay: A Love Letter to Jamaica

Dear Jamaica,

You're a place that I've been wanting to visit my whole life. Being from Brooklyn, New York, I was exposed to the culture at a very young age, so much so that I thought it was mine. And so 5 minutes before landing, when we could see where the sand met the ocean, I was in so much awe, that I couldn't stay seated. “Ladies an gentlemen, welcome to Montego Bay, Sangster International Airport (MBJ)! Di local time a 11:58am, an di temperature nice an warm at 83 degrees. Wi ask unu fi remain seated….”. 

When the awe died down just a little bit, because it never really fully left, the only thing that I could think about was the food. We did everything in our power to move quickly through the airport, making sure passports were ready and luggage was gathered. And finally we were released from captivity (border control) and were able to breathe our first breath of the Montego Bay air. 

Unbeknownst to us, our driver was also an undercover tour guide. Our airport transfer could have been 60 minutes longer and I wouldn't have noticed. He must have been a griot in his past life. The man was so good that he unknowingly brought us to the wedding venue that we would be observing the nuptial agreements of one of my best friends, just days later. As we drove down Queen's Cres Dr, he took us back in time to when the queen herself became the reason why this road was made. He transported us to the “Royal Pee” spot… It was a bathroom rest stop. I was perplexed by how a country can give off the charm of a small island but have such an impact worldwide with its music, its food, and people. 

45 minutes later, we arrived at the footsteps of the Roman Palace that would be our home for 5 days. It was as if Lucius Verus in Gladiator II had a baby with Marcus Garvey. The towering white Roman Pillars encompassing the glossy noir statues with fountains sprinkling and glistening as they refracted the Jamaican sun. I was so eager to explore the country that one of the bellhop guys had to stop me in my tracks and tell me

wait, slow down… 

and that I immediately did. So we checked in, had our first meal to the sound of the waves crashing, and began bridal party duties.

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Waking up in a new country is the culpatory evidence that you need to prove you are not lucid dreaming. I’m in new sheets, with a new sunrise, arising from Bahia Principe Luxury Runaway Bay’s king canopy bed. It was time to explore like a local.

The first stop? A clear kayak water shoot that embodies everything Caribbean, the blue waters, the tropical trees, the sprinters parked on the side of the sands, and the shop selling reggae paraphernalia with Bob Marley's face plastered on all of it. But oceans aren't the only bodies of water that run through the heart of this Caribbean island. I felt something that you could only feel when you're there and present in person, that I couldn't feel when I was researching all the excursions that I could do. I could feel the spirit and the soul of the Martha Brae River as we traveled down on a bamboo raft that was no more than 6 months old. And yes, I asked the tour guide how often they build their rafts. I also learned that it took 3 days to assemble each raft. 

It's one thing to read about the history of a country in books or at museums, and other formal methods of consuming knowledge. But what I appreciated about this bamboo raft was that it was a history book in its own, a visual and oral one at that. As the rafter boasted about his country and explained to us the geological knowledge that he knew, I could see for myself what he was talking about. The natural Limestone that is imported globally settles at the bottom of this river, the irrigation systems that once were tall, but still have strong remnants on the sides of the bank, once brought water to it’s people. It was living proof that something else existed here and I was just an observer. 

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On the cliff side of the BorghinVilla property, you can see the canvas of where they may have taken inspiration to create The Little Mermaid, and why Ariel wanted to be where the people were. Perched gracefully on the cliffs, offering breathtaking views of the crashing waves that danced with the rocks. This… is what they called the Caribbean Sea, its beauty roared. 

The light chatter of the guests made this painting come to life. They settled in the white chairs, the white chairs settled into the sand. And I was grateful to witness this moment, now a memory that I can only vicariously live through in photos. 

When I think about the bride, walking down the aisle, I still tear up thinking about how beautiful she was, and how she was in a beautiful place, stepping into a new beautiful life. The “I do’s” were said to the backdrop of the ocean, on a stone altar that was dressed with various white flowers. The sounds of the waves were a part of the frequency of those two sacred words. The recessional was a walk into the sunset. It was time to say goodbye to this daydream for the actual dreams to commence. 

A night filled with bites that took us on a journey through the island's rich culinary traditions. Every detail of the day, from the picturesque cliffside vows to the spirited dance floor, will forever be etched in my heart. As I reflected on the gorgeous scenery, the warmth of the people, and the celebration of two souls starting their journey together, I felt swept away by this fantasy.

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On this journey, I encountered love in every form. 

Love for the view,

love for my girlfriends, 

love for love, 

love for my partner,

love for myself, 

and to love and appreciate moments that won't last forever. 

Maybe it was because we travelled to MoBay on Valentine's Day. But I know one thing is certain. Every love story deserves to be framed, displayed on the strongest walls, and then sway there, in the most sacred wing of our hearts, for eternity…

With Love, Angelique <3