There is a location at Grand Cayman called Hell. Yes, like most tourists, I went to Hell and sent a postcard from there! In a gift shop at Hell, a strange guy dressed like Lucifer jumped out, asking "where the Hell are you from?" Outside there is a small patch of volcano rocks that gave the place its name and many iguanas roam this area... |
Iguanas roam Cayman...some of them rather huge and I was quite surprised to see them in many areas...so surreal. The turtle is the Cayman's national creature and I visited the Turtle Farm where turtles are farmed as food! The business class of Cayman Airways is called the Sir Turtle Club. Do you want to be a sir turtle? |
Arrived in Cayman Islands today. Singtel mobile does not work here even though SingTel website says it does. Bumped into group of Malaysians who live here & was invited to their home for dinner. Very nice people. Even helped their daughter with some homework. They are now experiencing Little Nonya fever too! They would drive me around for sightseeing tomrw before sending me to the airport. V. hospitable people! Will fly to London, reaching there on Sunday morning. |
Still in Kingston, Jamaica. On Friday morning, I will be flying Cayman Airways to Grand Cayman. Will be staying at Eldemire Guesthouse for one night, then fly to London via Miami on American Airlines. |
I visited historic Port Royal today. Located at the tip of a peninsula guarding the entrance to Kingston Harbour, Port Royal was once the capital of the English colony of Jamaica. The city was established shortly after the English captured Jamaica from the Spanish in 1655, and soon became the centre of operations for buccaneers aka pirates in the Caribbean. The English government at that time had insufficient naval and financial resources to safeguard its new possessions in the Americas and governors in these farflung regions had to protect themselves by granting licenses to buccaneers to attack the ships of Spain and any other unfriendly nation.
This was the golden age of piracy and the enormous wealth looted from Spanish American soon enriched Port Royal. It was said that the mansions of Port Royal were lavish and exuberant, and the rental of homes rivaled that of the pushiest business district of London. Not only did trade and piracy flourished in Port Royal, vice was in abundance too. Whores entertained pirates on shore-leave and gambling dens saw the making and loss of fortunes. It was said that Port Royal was “Sodom filled with all manner of debauchery.” Other writers called it the "Wickedest City in the World".
All came to an end on 7 June 1692, when a massive earthquake struck Port Royal, which brought two-third of the city under the sea. Over half the inhabitants died in the quake, aftershock and resulting tidal waves, and the survivors moved to the other side of Kingston Harbour, where they founded the city of Kingston. The more superstitious of those days called it God’s punishment for the city’s sins – not unlike statements of a well-known religious fundamentalist in Singapore who was alleged to have said that the 2003 SARS debacle was divine punishment of Singapore’s transgression of god’s rules against abortion, or of an American preacher statement that Katrina was his god’s punishment for America’s sins.
Archaeologists have since discovered many artifacts from the 10% of old Port Royal under the sea that had been excavated. It is believed that more exciting finds still lie at the bottom of the sea, covered by sand and mud for over 300 years.
I got to Port Royal on bus 98 from Parade in Downtown. Port Royal was once a tiny narrow sandbar island but a causeway has since been created linking it to the main island of Jamaica. A road links Kingston with Norman Manley International Airport, which then extends westwards to Port Royal. Port Royal is today a sleepy village with 1200 inhabitants. The only relics remaining of old Port Royal was Fort Charles and a few churches. Even then, the Fort Charles we see today had been rebuilt, remodeled and modified substantially over the years, especially after a few more earthquakes and disastrous hurricanes.
In the museum within Fort Charles, on display were not only everyday items used in old Port Royal in its glory days but also a small Chinese-style stone lion and a blue-white clay cup from Batavia of Dutch East Indies (i.e., Jakarta, Indonesia). These Asian artifacts were probably acquired by merchants in then Spanish-ruled Philippines, shipped across the Pacific Ocean to Acapulco, Mexico, transported overland to the Caribbean port of Veracruz, loaded onto vessels meant for Spain but eventually landed in Jamaica after these vessels were captured by pirates. Amazing race round the world only to end up in a museum here, isn’t it?
There was a plaque in the fort dedicated to Admiral Horatio Nelson, who, at the age of 19, was posted to this lonely fort in anticipation of a French attack which never came. It was here that his leadership and charisma were noticed, and before long, he was appointed commander of the garrison.
I walked around the quiet village of Port Royal, now even more so after the cessation of a ferry service to Kingston. I waited in the village square for the return bus to Kingston but none appeared for 45 minutes. A pickup truck driver offered to bring everyone waiting at the village bus stop a free ride to town. And there I was, at the back of a pickup truck, with two fishermen with that distinctive smell of the sea, a Rasta lad with his colourful hat and a loud large-bosom mother with two equally loud young sons.
Back to Parade, had jerk chicken at a Jamaican fast food restaurant chain called Mothers, then took a coaster back to New Kingston. Jerk refers to a sauce that is the most popular ingredient used to marinate meat in Jamaica. The sauce is made from various spices and can be mildly peppery. Once marinated, the meat is cooked over flame in a method first began by the Taino Indians and then adopted by the Maroons, i.e., escaped African slaves, and then by the entire population of Jamaica at large. Also served together with the jerk chicken were Johnny cakes, which can perhaps be described as a cross between Singaporean humjingpeng (but with more "substance" to bite) and a kind of fried muffin! I adore these…
Yes, parts of the city looks like urban wasteland and bus drivers speed through them maybe hoping not to get hijacked by robbers. At one bus station with a prolonged stop, I saw conductors of two buses fought over a lady and her young daughter. They shouted at each other and each pulled one arm of the crying girl, trying to get customers for their bus. They only stopped when one driver gave up the tug of war but he could well have taken out a pistol and shoot at the other guy. Minutes later, while at another stretch of town, a passenger standing precariously on the entrance steps fell off the bus. The bus screeched to a halt as the conductor and another passenger stepped out to help the fallen young man. Fortunately, he did not appear too hurt though completely dazzled, and we continued the journey after getting some ice to sooth his injured arm. Life is always on the edge in a place like Jamaica.
Back in New Kingston, I bought a wonderful book, In Search of Buccaneers, by Anthony Gambrill, about an extraordinary historic period when pirates roamed the Caribbean, fighting proxy wars on behalf of Spain, England, France, Netherlands and other powers. I also had the famous Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee at a nice café. Grown in the inland mountains at altitude of between 910m and 1700m above sea level, the Blue Mountain coffee is one of the world’s most expensive and sought-after coffees.
Kingston, Jamaica is the murder capital of the Caribbean. TV news in the restaurant just reported 5 fatal shootouts today, including one in which many passersby were also injured, another one where police execution of a suspect was alleged to have taken place, and most shocking for me, one in which a New Zealander consultant was killed when a robber demanded his mobile in a guesthouse lounge. I quickly changed my dinner order to takeaway to return to my hotel before it gets too dark. And then locked the door tight...
Visited Bob Marley Museum in northern part of New Kingston. Overpriced entrance fee at US$20, which is the level for World-class attractions like the Louvre or Great Wall. Lots of stuff and murals relating to the great reggae star. I also learned that Marley actually had a white-British father, which was why he did not look that dark. Marley also used images of Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie I in many of his concerts and albums, even after the latter's overthrow and murder by Marxists. I wonder if Marley had ever considered if the emperor was one key reason why Ethiopia had remained poor and backward for so long. Marley was a Rastafarian convert, and had frequently used the marijuana either to get high or to perform Rastafarian rituals. A few shoots of the marijuana plant is grown in the small green plot in front of the museum. Interestingly, Marley had 13 children: 3 were with his wife, Rita; 2 adopted from Rita's previous relationships; and the rest with 8 separate women. Wikipedia also wrote about Marley's illness and death, which in some ways might have begun as a treatable illness but eventually led to death when it was untreated due to Marley's Rastafarian beliefs: In July 1977, Marley was found to have acral lentiginous melanoma, a form of malignant melanoma, in a football wound - according to widely held urban legend, inflicted by broadcaster and pundit Danny Baker - on his right big toe. Marley refused amputation, because of the Rastafari belief that the body must be "whole." Marley may have seen medical doctors as samfai (tricksters, deceivers). True to this belief Marley went against all surgical possibilities and sought out other means that would not break his religious beliefs. He also refused to register a will, based on the Rastafari belief that writing a will is acknowledging death as inevitable, thus disregarding the everlasting (or everliving, as Rastas say) character of life. The cancer then metastasized to Marley's brain, lungs, liver, and stomach. After playing two shows at Madison Square Garden as part of his fall 1980 Uprising Tour, he collapsed while jogging in NYC's Central Park. The remainder of the tour was subsequently cancelled. Marley played his final concert at the Stanley Theater in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania on September 23, 1980. The live version of "Redemption Song" on Songs of Freedom was recorded at this show. Marley afterwards sought medical help from Munich specialist Josef Issels, who promoted a controversial type of cancer treatment, partly based on avoidance of certain foods, drinks and other substances (Marley was also already a vegetarian, mainly for religious reasons). However, by this time his illness had already progressed to the terminal stage. Whatever it was, Marley was an amazing global cultural phenomena. He was the first non-white global superstar in popular music. Even today – 28 years after his death - he remains a much revered figure across much of the world, in particular, Caribbean and Africa. During my travels, I have seen his images everywhere, often in the form of wall murals and posters. Quite a few people I have met in Caribbean and Africa had told me Marley was their favourite star. |
Downtown Kingston, which used to be the most important city of British Caribbean Empire, is but a dangerous and dilapidated inner city ghetto today. I took a bus from New Kingston to Parade in Downtown. The bus sped through the urban wasteland between New Kingston and Downtown - perhaps the driver was afraid of a highway robbery. A passenger had to shout for the driver to let her alight the bus. There were many half destroyed and roofless buildings in this area, and most of the buildings that were standing had their shutters down. I suspect the few shops that were open probably had paid substantial sums of "protection money" to the many gangs of Kingston's inner ghetto. The Parade area of Downtown was busy with petty traders, commuters, shoppers and evangelical speakers who spoke about hell fire and god through loudspeakers. A hundred meters away, some shopkeepers were bursting everyone's ear drums with loud raggae beat. King Street in Downtown was busy with shoppers and metal-grill guarded shops, an indication of security and law and order issues this part of the city. Elsewhere in Downtown was quiet and dilapidated as well. Certainly, Downtown Kingston is not for the faint-hearted. Neither is it the Bond Street for upper-class Jamaicans. I wonder if a day would come when Downtown would be revitalised. It is a pity that such an area of nice Victorian arches and domes have been allowed to degenerate. |
Everything went smoothly upon arrival. A hotel staff at the airport helped me to get a JUTA cab to New Kingston, which is the safe part of this city known for serious law and security issues. I checked into Chelsea Hotel and then explored the surrounding area which included the Emancipation Park and the financial district at Knutsford Road area. |
I took Air Turks and Caicos from Providenciales to Kingston, capital of Jamaica. The flight was full and most of the passengers were Jamaicans working in TCI. |
A conch, a shellfish found commonly in the Caribbean, is one of the most popular meats in TCI. I visited a famous conch bar by the beach and watch them harvest it and then had a great conch meal. |
Coincidentally, Michael Novins, a New York lawyer, prolific traveler and Century Club member, happens to be in TCI. We met for drinks at an Irish Pub and spent a few hours talking about places such as the Congo, Chad, Guinee Bissau, Haiti, Abkhazia, Tonga, Wallis et Futuna and Saudi Arabia. Michael had actually bought a copy of my first book and left it in a hotel in Tonga after reading it. |
| Crisis? What crisis? Or storm in a teacup in a small country faraway? Due to allegations of corruption, the UK government forced the government of TCI led by Premier Michael Misick to reign recently, and might assume direct rule in this territory. Here are some newspaper headlines. The former premier is now accusing London of practising colonialism and dictatorship, whilst the financial scandal involving Misick is still being investigated. |
Arrived in Turks & Caicos Islands. In English-speaking country again! Island looks deserted...drove thru downtown without realising it. A few shops, scattered luxury resorts, white sandy beaches... My couchsurfing.com host, Alex, is away, and he has arranged his colleague, Paul, to pick me up at the airport. I was brought to Alex's place and given the keys in what's a very generous gesture. Paul drove me around Providenciales. A rather sleepy place and buildings are far apart. There are few tourist attractions in the traditional sense. Most foreigners come here to lie on the beaches for a week or two. A number of movie and pop stars also have villas here. Many of these villas and houses are located in rather scenic spots, especially those by Chalk Sound, where one could see water on both sides of the road and most houses afford a spectacular panoramic view of isles and gentle rolling hills. The population of TCI is only 30,000 and vast majority live in the westernmost Providenciales Island. The capital, however, is Cockburn Town on the small island called Grand Turk in the far eastern end of the archipelago. Most of the islands' permanent inhabitants, known as Belongers, are descended from African slaves but there are many migrant workers from Haiti, Dominican Republic and the Philippines. |
I bought this walking stick in Haiti. Carries the figure of a man on one side and woman on the other. And heading towards them is a figure of Dumballah, the powerful Vodou snake spirit, which is the manifestation of peace and transquility. It is a mass produced souvenir bought at a handicraft shop in Jacmel for only US$5. I asked a few people and got assurance it is nothing more than a souvenir. Unfortunately, while clearing customs at Turks and Caicos' Providenciales Airport, the top handle was chipped off. Now, what should I do with it? |
Have arrived in Providenciales, Turks & Caicos. Alex, my couchsurfing.com host (who is a Romanian engineer based here), is away and his friend and fellow Romanian, Paul, picked me up at the airport instead. Drove me to Alex's house where I am now. The island is huge and looks deserted except for scattered luxury resorts and low bushes. We drove through "Downtown" and I didn't even realise it as there were too few buildings! Saw the beaches - fine white sand...amazing! I will be here till Monday, when I fly to Jamaica. Good thing is the islands is British and English-speaking! The population is black and most of the workers are either Haitian, Dominicans or Philipino. Received a few sms from friends who say I appeared on TV. That short was filmed the week before I left Singapore. My mobile is supposed to roam here but doesn't. |
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