The Gibson Relays

On Saturday, February 25th, I had the great privilege and wonderful experience of attending the Gibson Relays. This is the 36th annual holding of this event; a track meet that is anticipated for an entire year and attended by Jamaicans of all walks and regions. It is truly a national celebration of sport. The entire event is planned and implemented by volunteers, many of them returning for decades. Incredible. 

Again, the story is in the pictures . . .

This is my CUSO fellow volunteer, Tim, on the left, and Mr. Errol Greene on the right. Mr. Greene is on the board of my placement and is also the volunteer Security Head for the Gibson Relays. We have had many meetings together, he is a most delightful person, and provided two tickets to the VVIP section at the relays.  When we got there we were upgraded to the "royal box", which we shared with the Custos of Kingston/St. Andrew, the Minister of Sport, and Donovan Bailey. 

Here we are in the athletes' staging area, where Mr. Greene introduced us to all of the teams, including the Canadian track club from Ontario, "The Flying Angels", who were very successful.

The "under 10 year old boys" holding hands on their way to the 60 metre shuttle.  This was a highlight of the event, with 32,000 fans on their feet! You should see these little lads run. It was also a highlight for me.

The National Stadium is in a very beautiful setting on the hills of Kingston with the Blue Mountains as background. Those were the cheap seats in the afternoon, though they filled up quickly as the premier events began in the evening.

On the right, leading the final leg of the 4 x 100 is Yohan Blake. He took his team from third to first. Such a privilege to see such talent in person.  Pictures do not do the experience justice.

The Jamaican version of popcorn and peanuts. 

Was thrilled to see Donovan Bailey arrive in the "royal box" for the premiere events.  Mr. Greene introduced us and we had a lovely chat. I said to Donovan, rather innocently and excited, "Did you see those 10 year old boys?!"  He looked a me knowingly and said, "I was one of them."

No wonder a small, island nation of 2.8 million produces an incredible number of world class track athletes - all of Jamaica supports them!

The crowd is on its feet for the finals of every event and the roar is deafening! They have their favourites, but they celebrate all participants.  You truly have to be there to share the experience. In years past, I have been involved in athletics at the national level - the Canada Games - but never could have imagined this passion and exuberance for developing athletes. 

'Tis a memory of a lifetime. 

The next Jamaican relay team to win the worlds. They are waiting, but methinks not for long.

Treasure Beach Weekend

For those of you who be following my blog,  apologies for being remiss over these past six weeks.  I am on to it now!


Just returned from Treasure Beach - and will blog re last weekend, Gibson Relays and Barrington Watson art tour, in a few days.


Treasure Beach is on the south shore and far from the tourist track, about 3 hours drive from Kingston. It has wonderful black sand beaches and delightful cottages and guest houses. We rented a car and left Kingston late on Friday afternoon, arriving in TB about 7 pm.  Kim and Erin were with me and, thankfully, Kim had been there before and she was invaluable re directions - I'd have been seriously lost re lack of road signs and inadequate map. Hey, I'm in Jamaica, mon!


Delphine and Shalini joined us on Saturday - for some unexplained reason they decided to stay in Kingston for a "sunrise meditation" on Saturday morning. After which, they jumped a coaster and in mid-afternoon met us in Treasure Beach.  We will not go into the complexities and vagracies of coaster riding in this blog . . .  it deserves its own.  Enough said that they had a long and arduous journey.  We were so pleased that they could share the back seat of our wee rented Yaris for the return trip on Sunday!


Wonderful weekend on beach, much reading, resting, swimming, eating, and a wonderful time out of the city. The story is in the pictures . . . 

Black sand of Treasure Beach. Taken from the front of our place at the Golden Sands at about 6:30 am just as the sun was rising. I am an early riser.

Fishing boats beside our place and just in front of  the restaurant where we had daily breakfasts and dinners.

The restaurant was call thus.  No idea why.

Fishing boats.

More fishing boats.

Rose Cottage. We had the cottage to ourselves, with three bedrooms each with own ensuite, communal kitchen and living area, patio and right on the beach.

Beach Cottage next to Rose Cottage.

Impatiens grow wild. And they grow in every available possibility of nurture. 

Those three lumps under the palapa (this is taken from the door of Rose Cottage) are (left to right), Shalini, Delphine, and Erin.  They were unrecognizable for hours.

Near sunset on Saturday, the local boys played football on the beach.  

Kids and a ball. It does not get better than this.

My favourite.

Lucky and Lewis. Lewis owns Golden Sands and his grandson, Richard, (who mostly lives in England) runs the place when he is in Jamaica.  Lewis shows up every day to talk to the guests and share is his love of Treasure Beach, and sits in the "lounge" from almost dawn to dusk.  He also loves "Lucky" (on the left) who he rescued about 6 months ago as an abandoned kitten, just a few weeks old, on the side of the road.  The feeling is mutual and Lucky is never more than a few feet from Lewis, who feeds him sardines. 

Office at Golden Sands.

Waikiki by the Sea. Best callaloo omlettes that I have ever had - my favourites and I will greatly miss callaloo when I return to Canada.  On Saturday night the curry lobster was delightful.  This little shack, with four tables, was a 5 minute walk down the beach from the Golden Sands.  And great coffee in the mornings!

Erin in the hammock.

Bubbling Springs

On our drive back to Kingston from TB, the plan was to stop at "Bubbling Springs" in Lacovia and then  on to the Appleton Rum Estate for a tour. Off we went with a driver (moi) and four navigators. Despite a map and a few signs on roads, some of them of questionable assistance, we found ourselves a little more west than anticipated and when we thought we should heading into hills someone in the back seat expressed interest as to why the ocean was on our immediate left a few metres away.  Through no design of our own, we had found our way to Black River which was very beautifutl. 

Delphine had recommended that we go to Bubbling Springs and we were all very keen, with images of fern covered grottos, fresh water springs, all beautifully tucked into the Jamaica hillside. 

As noted earlier, we were not really lost: we knew exactly where we were,  though it was not necessarily where we wanted to be. Rather suddenly, far from Lacovia, we came across these guadily painted premises and the equally gaudy sign announcing "Bubbling Springs". Screeeeeech!  

After a bit of negotiating by Delphine, we were in.  The price of admission was worth the laughs and the pictures.  Not sure if we all left completely cured of our collective ills - as promised at the entry - but we did leave with great humour and memories. 

We never made it to Appleton -:(  Next time. 

Delphine (l) and Shalini (r) entering the cool waters. If you are thinking that this looks like a touristy, fun park with go-garts and no trace of a natural spring (or natural anything!) you would be correct.

These three Jamaican ladies were readying for the springs. I particularly liked the fetching outfit on the right. I resisted taking pictures as they entered the water; it would have been unkind. 

We were quite taken with this couple, each wearing plastic bags tied to their heads. Hey, you would not want to wash your hair too often. 

Who knew?

Even the palm trees and cars were painted in stripes!

We stopped for sustenance at the Pourus jerk centre.  You cannot even get out of the car!  The vendors don't wait for you - they swarm your car and it is difficult to even get out. 

Many choices and much competition at the Pourus jerk centre.

Hash at Tulloch Farm

Happy New Year to friends and blog followers - two weeks late, I know. I posted a couple of Christmas blogs re trip home to Canada, but this is my first since my return on January 2. 

Have been quite busy at work since I got back and also trying to get things done as I will leave on January 19th to visit my new grandsons, August and George, who were born 4 1/2 weeks early on December 28th.  Can't wait to hold them!  And help Allie and Doug with anything they need - keep tuned for a 'twin boys' blog soon.

Today, I and three friends went on the first hash of 2012 and it was spectacular! In St. Catherine's, at Tulloch Farm near Blog Walk. Tulloch Farm is a huge plantation in a largely agricultural area about 1 hour northwest of Kingston. Well, make that 1 1/2 hours for us. Despite my diligent navigators - Erin, Sats, and Tim (I was doing the driving) - we made the "circular route" and enjoyed beautiful scenery and the wonderful help of several Jamaicans as we stopped for directions on a few occasions . . . . .

. . . . We finally arrived at Tulloch Farm and found it void of hashers. However, there was a delightful lady (with a car and dead battery, which is another story) and helpful farm hands. Thankfully for cell phones, our venerable Hashmaster, Owen, informed us that we were on the wrong side of Tulloch Farm and we should be at "the fording". He could not seem to understand how we ended up at the entrance to the "old farm" - he apparently has not worked with my navigators. Unfortunately, both of them were in the back seat and it is hard to read signs from there - yes, another was in the front seat but he was fighting motion sickness and doing his best not to throw up on the rest of us.  We thought that giving him a map might not be a good idea . . .

And the best, a delightful farm hand jumped into his Land Rover (we were a little worried that we might need one!) and lead us to "the fording", which was about 5 minutes away on farm roads. Of course, re arrived at the wrong side of "the fording".  Was easy to park and walk across, but to much derision and laughter from fellow hashers that we could not follow directions. Hey, this is why we always leave early :-)

This is too much talk and now for some pictures:

Kids in the river at the "Flat Bridge" on way through the gorge to Ocho Rios (we only went as far as Blog Walk)

Lining up for the flat bridge

Young higglers trying to sell us fruits as we stopped to take pictures after crossing the flat bridge. 

Tim on left (the white guy) taking to "Lizard" who is the self-professed Don of Flat Bridge. His fellow higglers looking on. Lizard jumps off the bridge and asks for $$ if you take pictures.  Jumping off the bridge is hardly a death-defying feat . . . .  see next picture. Remember that most Jamaicans cannot swim, so Lizard is a local hero. 

Flat Bridge

Original farmhouse at Tulloch Farm, circa 1820

Setting up for post-hash Tasty Meal

Hashing through the plantation.

Why does every hash have to have a scramble down a muddy bank?  You can see that it is a family affair.

Sats in river after the scramble down the bank.  We hashed in the river, about up to our knees, for at least 1/2 km. 

Almost back to the fording.  We forded the river again, about 500 metres back, but no pictures - it was up to my hips and all I could do was retain my balance and hoping to keep my new camera dry!!The best thing I have learned about hashing is to bring dry clothes - all of them! - and dry shoes.  Glad I did today. 

Tim and Erin (on right) almost back to the fording. 

This is why my hiking boots are now draining in my kitchen. 

I have no idea what this is.  A wagon of some sort with a large water tank in front, parked on the fording, with a chap on a cell phone. Very Jamaican. 

Non-Jamaicans think of Jamaica as a land of beaches and resorts. I think of it as a land of unspoiled beauty. The interior has incredible farmland and there are spectacular mountains (we call them "hills" in Canada). 

Resting after the hash.

Hashmaster Owen, on left, using his military experience to sort out the Tasty Meal. Owen is also the chair of the board where I work - a coincidence and I greatly appreciate his leadership and enthusiasm, on and off of the hash!

Beautiful St. Catherine's

Tulloch Farm original banana station

Tulloch Farm in repose