so, jamaica.

scooped from the montego bay airport by ‘clive’s transport service’ and immediately offered a red stripe and some ‘jamaican cigars.’ (we, uh, accepted both.) hour and a half ocean side drive to negril, our final destination. the rockhouse hotel: land of lush jungle-y bungalows with breezy, mosquito-netted beds and lazy ceiling fans. cliff-side infinity pool and bar serving best pina coladas this side of… well, anywhere, and the juiciest, spiciest jerk chicken to boot. where happy hour and sunset happen to fall at the same time. home to two of the most scenic and delicious and chill restaurants i’ve ever had the pleasure to dine in (conch fritters anyone?). cliff jumping and snorkeling. a visit to the peaceful and fragrant spa, where ol’ b had the pleasure of having his first (complimentary!) foot scrub (ha) before our side-by-side massages. a couple of jaunts to a surprisingly chill beach where we drank red stripes like water and played in the waves and where only brian (to his glee) saw a giant stingray.

’twas wonderful, and ’twas over too soon. it’s our kind of place (to say the least): we will definitely be back. til then: one love, mon!