Worst. Vacation. Ever. Part Eight – The Conclusion

Worst. Vacation. Ever. Part Eight

There are several horrid details I’m going to leave out of this trip – but let me wrap up the final days in quick summary.

The day after the wedding felt like our first day of freedom- I mean MY first day of freedom. My cousins who had skipped off and went clubbing and to the beach were still fuming over the wasted hours spent doing jack-all. I was all out of  pity and encouragement. The real sucker was me – all I wanted to do was go to the beach and eat fried parrot fish and festival. So much had happened that even my body had turned against me. Whatever I was going to do – I could only have so much fun. Maybe a 6 out of 10. So that Monday, I was feeling queasy - but more free  – but there really wasn’t much I could do. I was terrified to go off site alone and didn’t trust anyone else to drive me anywhere so I ate breakfast and enjoyed the scenery. My uncle and aunt disappeared for the entire day to deal with the post wedding debris. So for all of Monday we sat and did nothing – which was perfectly fine by me.Except – we still did not have our LUGGAGE!!! We had been living out of a fancy handbag for days and with not much else but a huge polyester bridesmaid dress that we no longer had use for. How I wish I had a sewing machine that I could have made myself a shiny red toga. It would have been fitting. The other girls no longer trusted that our goods were ever going to make their way back to us, so t hey hired the owner of the guest house to transport them to old harbour (a 45 minute drive) to get all of our things. The attempt was a success although it did ruffle a few feathers. My cousins had to assure the lady of the mansion that they did not come to stay. Sufficed to say, that night I fell asleep without dinner and on the air mattress with my three cousins. They had gotten some snacks but I was done for – food could wait. At least here, I could get some sleep.

On Tuesday, the day before my departure my aunt decided we should have a day off (doing nothing) . I wanted to go the HellShire Beach – but my cousins had already gone so I  figured that we could take them to the infamous Dunn’s River Falls in Ochio Rios. It was a done deal. We couldnt’ wait to get going…to do something…until my aunt’s friend invited herself along (even after my aunt declined the self invite) – which meant I had to sit in the back (where I did not fit) AGAIN.  On the way to Ochio Rios we had stopped to get a snack (at the faux- guest’s advise) when she reached into MY provisions (and no one else’s) and removed with her bare hands – the largest piece of fish. Folks.. I think this was the first time I was truly beside myself. As she opened her mouth to receive the stolen treat I said ‘umm…that’s the biggest piece I have’. She looked at me shocked – as if I was just a statue who had spoken. She lowered the fish back into my plate – quickly scanned my portions and removed a smaller piece. I don’t think she was out of earshot when I started to complain to the only male cousin, my aunt’s son, and he was very receptive since he was having a meltdown after being crammed in the mid seat thanks to our uninvited passenger and new resident thief. But this was not where the madness ended. We had a stalker on the loose. My aunt’s phone had been going off steadily because she had made the mistake of telling a friend on the island that she had a blackberry phone in her position that she had no use for. Unfortunately my aunt had not travelled with the device, and when she finally answered the call (after 8 missed attempts), this is what she told the lady, ‘I’m sorry – I left it back at the house and I’m taking my nieces to Dunn’s River Falls… Sorry’.  Goodbye stalker!!!!!!! When we got to Dunn’s river I was pleased. I had never climbed the falls. I was about to do something that I had never done before..and I did. It was amazing.  I had just reached to the top of the falls ….and was feeling exhilarated when it started to rain. No – it began to pour.  We were completely washed out and it took us fifteen minutes to get from the beach to the parking lot with all our belongings – including our last change of clothes (now wet by the way). When we got to the parking lot , our car was the last in the lot and there was not a patron in sight….except for a lone slim lady standing under a small shelter. ‘Are you with E—–?’ she asked.

I knew right then and there who it was. How many wet people can you fit in a van? One.Two.Three.Four.Five.Six.Seven.Eight.Nine.Ten. aaaand one blackberry stalker.       

Our trip was cut short. We were wet and dirty. We were squished and tired. It was dark and cold. And I don’t remember when it happened but my pregnant cousin started to murmur…loudly. She complained about all the things she never got to do while we sat around waiting for the wedding to happen “This is why my face is sour! This is why.’ She said. Our male cousin jumped in ‘No one is thinking here! This is ridiculous!’ he exclaimed. The rest of  us sat back in awe. They were the youngest and we had not expected them to speak out. I was expected to stay at the fish-stealer’s house the last night but I refused – and when I did so, I was shoved into the front yard to be berated by my uncle,  ‘You shouldn’t let yourself get carried away.’ (he thought I was being coaxed into sleeping elsewhere due to peer pressure)’Why do you want to go to your grandmother’s house?’ he demanded to know. You may be wondering here what the relation is between my uncle and my grandmother. Its HIS mother. I calmly asked him if he realized that we were adults with husbands and children  and that I was in my 30’s. I went to my grandmother’s – via the owner of the guest house. My uncle had been driving for days (to his credit) and was glad to have a break. We all were (Well except our male cousin who wasn’t allowed to come -he’s 18). There is a reason I don’t like driving with anyone except my father in Jamaica…it always feels like my ‘last’ ride. Sure enough this man drove like a mad man AND he got pulled over by the police with us in the car. I was a bit relieved though – and he too admitted that he was breaking the law – and although he did not aplogize – he did take it down a notch. I was happy not to see my one year cousin go flying through the windshield. Thank you Jamaican Patrol. My grandmother lives in the ghetto – but it was okay – as long as we kept the storage room with the large roaches closed and didn’t need to use the washroom or kitchen. She was so hospitable and sent someone out to get us snacks as soon as we arrived (even though it was unannounced). When my uncle asked me to give him money – she gave me the money to give to him. She was an angel. And she went with me to the airport at 4am to the dismay of my uncle who seems repulsed in her presence, but never mind that. I was going to end my wedcation the way it should have started. Now that I think about it, the rain at Dunn’s river was the best shower I had the entire trip – and I needed it because I wouldn’t’ shower again until Wednesday night after my 6 hour layover in Miami and my 3 hour flight into glorious Toronto. I would have my first hot dinner in 3 days and real shower with hot water. Why, do you ask? I told you – my grandmother lives in the ghetto… No running water!