A Recordless Record of Treasure Beach, Jamaica
This crappy, crooked Photobooth shot proves my Jamaican whereabouts.
Greetings everyone out there in Alibiland. This week I've found myself on honeymoon in the southwestern corner of Jamaica. It's warm and very windy here, much like New Mexico is at times, but with a bonus blue ocean.
I chose to come to Jamaica for two reasons. The first was to swim up to a bar that served drinks in coconuts. The second was to purchase old ska, rocksteady and '60s reggae '45s.
While we've had several amazing coconut-derived beverages here, none were served while wading in water, in an actual coconut. And to the people we've encountered, vinyl is like something that no longer exists—like unicorn-drawn carriages.
On the bright side, we did take a boat out to a bar on stilts in the middle of the ocean where we drank rum punch as sting rays swam around us. We've had amazing food, including a dish of pumpkin, plantains and callaloo (a green), served in a curry coconut cream sauce with rice. And we visited a place called The Wild Onion (which had two sole '45s tacked to the wall behind the bar) and experienced a Jamaican sound system. It was as loud and clear as a crystal unicorn. Also, you can't argue with sitting around in a swimsuit reading a book.
The kids here are really hot on dancehall, and I'm trying to keep a log of the popular tracks. At The Wild Onion, Garrett, who we met on the boat to the bar in the middle of the ocean, told me about the new stuff that played on the sound system. At one point a song came on and three dudes started a line dance that featured a pantomime of joint-rolling. Garrett told me the track was a love song about marijuana.
Oh, and just like you've heard, they smoke tons of the marijuana here.