Day 6: Monday, May 30, 2005

This wasn't really a fun day. We awoke at 5:00 a.m., had breakfast and caught the 6:30 a.m. shuttle bus to the airport, which took a good two hours. Oh, by the way, the bus blew a tire in the town of Trelawny, and we had to wait for it to be changed.

We checked into the airport and PTL, they didn't give us a hard time about MFP's name on the ticket. Waiting for the plane, I literally fell asleep standing up in a crowd waiting to board our plane, which took off a half hour late. We FINALLY got on the plane, and I fell asleep. The plane went first to Kingston, then to Fort Lauderdale, our layover point. MFP and I were so tired we barely talked.

We had lunch on the plane and landed in the afternoon in Fort Lauderdale. Thanks to AirTran and Air Jamaica not having an agreement with each other, we had to pick up our bags in Fort Lauderdale, go to the ticket counter AGAIN and go through security AGAIN. We did so, and when we got to the ticket counter we already knew that we were going to miss our connecting flight because the time had been changed to an earlier one due to an "executive decision" by AirTran. (How this can be legal is beyond me.) The woman behind the ticket counter initally told us that we could not get a flight to Baltimore until tomorrow, but then realized that AirTran had already put us on a flight that evening. PTL!

We went through Florida security, where we were randomly selected for additional screening, and so were wanded and my purse was searched. I was so happy when it was over. After several hours of hanging around our gate, we had dinner at a pizza place in the terminal and then boarded the plane.

The flight to Baltimore was uneventful, but I wished I hadn't finished my book in Jamaica. When we got to BWI, it was dark, and we headed for the light rail, which was how MFP had gotten to the airport. But we found it to be closed, since it closes at 8:00 on holidays and it was, of course, Memorial Day.

Please see Kate Krupnik's post regarding the MTA.

Now, wouldn't you think that on a holiday, a day when tons of people fly, that the light rail to and from the airport would at least be running? But noooooooo. MFP and I were literally stranded. I got the idea of calling "Nancy," who lives in Catonsville not far from the airport. I did (from a pay phone, my cell had run completely out of juice, I wasn't able to plug it into a Jamaican outlet since they are different), and I BEGGED her to come and pick us up. She did, bless her heart. We were so humiliated that we were very quiet. And we were in bad moods. Nancy later said she thought our silence was odd. She dropped us off at the Patapsco light rail stop, where MFP's car was.

When he tried to carry me over the threshold, he dropped me. Hence I am now a member of the Catonsville Y.

And so, dear readers, ends this blog. I will not be writing it anymore, but I will leave it up for the pleasure of whomever surfs and lands here. All in all, quite an adventure, and one which I absolutely do not regret.

Day 5: Sunday, May 29, 2005

It doesn't much feel like Memorial Day weekend, because they don't celebrate Memorial Day in Jamaica. At least, not the last weekend in May, if they have their own.

After arising, we had breakfast at the Terrace and then ventured to the beach. The beach, by the way, has very white, smooth, Wildwood-like sand, but is not very wide. The water is turquoise and there are no waves. We lay out under thatched umbrellas and I read more of Post Mortem while MFP read the Bible. We got into the water and swam and splashed around. Then we lay out some more.

We showered and went to lunch, then we relaxed in one of the hammocks in the shade in the gardens. Later, we played shuffleboard (I think I won), and then changed and ventured into the pool, floating around on floaties and going to the pool bar again. Oh, by the way, there was a bar by the beach too. There are bars everywhere here. But by this time I was hardly drinking any alcohol, because it was so hot. I stuck to soda, water, and virgin daiquiris. We stayed in the pool until about 6:30 (!) then showered, changed, and put on our nice clothes and went to dinner at the same Italian place that had kicked us out four days before. This time Collin welcomed us, escorted us to our table and pulled my chair out for me. I had bow-tie pasta with meat and tomato sauce...really good...while MFP had his beloved lasagna (I sometimes call him Garfield).

We went to bed fairly early since we had to get up at 5:00 a.m. the next day to catch the shuttle to the airport.

By the way, every day by the beach, there were locals hawking T-shirts, jewelry, and other items. They did not work for Sandals. They were quite aggressive. I bought a T-shirt from them, but every other day I avoided them like the plague.

Day 4: Saturday, May 28, 2005

MFP and I enjoyed breakfast in our room, out on the balcony. Traditionally, Sandals delivers this to you after your wedding. We had a feast, but I must have eaten something to which I was allergic, because soon after we finished eating, I puked twice. I hoped that I would not be sick all day, but thanks be to God, I wasn't. We ventured to the pool again and lounged by it and in it (and on floaties) for about three hours. It felt great, but I got burned really badly. We showered early in the afternoon and had lunch at the wonderful Terrace again.

MFP and I then went and picked out the 12 free photos we would receive in our album, plus one complimentary one. We sorted out the thirty or so photos that the photographer had taken, painstakingly deciding which ones we liked best. We were allowed to purchase extra ones, so we picked out fourteen of them. We returned them to the counter and then watched our wedding video, which was beautiful...I wish I could show it to each of you.

The sun had baked our brains and we were very drained, so we played pool (billiards) inside for a while, where MFP kicked my butt as usual. I stink at pool, but I love to play it. Then we made reservations at the Japanese restaurant at the resort. We had wanted 7:00 reservations, but all they could give us was 6:00, the earliest possible time. By this time, it was late in the afternoon. MFP and I wanted to return to the beach, but it was too late, since we had these early reservations. So we just went back to the room and took showers. We then dressed in our nice clothes and ventured to the Japanese restaurant, where we waited with other couples for it to open.

We were seated at a table for twelve which surrounded a large grill. After we were given a "welcome drink," which I barely touched because my brain was still baked from the sun, a Jamaican chef came in and cooked on the grill while he talked animatedly and put on a show for us, during which he flipped a shrimp into the air and I attempted unsuccessfully to catch it in my mouth. We ate what had been cooked on the grill. I was concerned about MFP because he seemed rather nervous, but at dessert, which was served outside, he seemed okay.

We went back to the room and took a nap, then woke up just in time for karaoke at 10:30 p.m. We went to the nightclub where about 20 people were. The song selection stunk, and I ended up singing Madonna's "Live to Tell" while MFP didn't get to sing anything. This is because karaoke lasted only half an hour!! How awful! The nightclub staff then attempted to start a dance party, but the DJ couldn't get the sound system to work right, so we all bolted. MFP sat at the "tree bar" just outside the nightclub and had strawberry daiquiris. Then we went upstairs to bed.

The beach equaled our goal for tomorrow.

Wedding Day: Friday, May 27, 2005

MFP and I arose at 5:45 a.m. and went to breakfast. I had a hair appointment at 8:00. After brushing my teeth and washing my hair, I went to the beauty parlor in the resort and the same woman who did my nails blow-dried my hair and put it up in a very pretty way (wish I could upload a pic). She then did my makeup. While she was doing this, my parents arrived from their other Sandals resort where they were staying, and visited with me shortly (Oh! Who is that blushing bride!" my mother said).

The beautician fitted my veil on my head and I went back to the room, where MFP was in his dress shirt, tie, and pants. I know it's bad luck, supposedly, for the bride to see the groom before the wedding, but I'm not superstitious. He exited and went to the wedding office. My mother helped me into my dress and I put on my "special" earrings, which I wear a lot to church anyway but are my favorites (little drop-down mother of pearl things, 3 on each earring) and a special necklace which was a pearl on a gold chain. I talked with my mother while we waited for a wedding coordinator to come get me. I thought briefly of a touching commercial I once saw for Nabisco Cream of Wheat which featured a woman on her wedding day. I shoved it out of my head so that I would not cry. I was not nervous at all.

The wedding coordinator finally came and gave me my white-orchid-and-green-ivy bouquet and my mother and I followed her to the ceremony site, the beach. My father was at his position, and on cue he took my arm and we walked to the tune of Canon in D to the flowered arch where the Jamaican minister, whom I had not a chance to meet before, and MFP were waiting. MFP was wearing a boutonniere which matched my bouquet. The minister began the ceremony, which was Christian (excellent) despite not being in a church. He quoted from the Bible several times. MFP had been planning to write our own vows, but this turned out not to be necessary, since all we had to do was respond "I do."

I thought that my mother would cry, but she was busy running around taking pictures. The rings were exchanged and MFP and I were pronounced man and wife. The ceremony took about 15 minutes, and then we followed the wedding coordinator to the reception area, the Rialto. A table was set up for the two of us and my parents. MFP and I performed our first dance to...(drum roll please)

"Amazed" by Lonestar.

We took in a nice strawberry cheesecake, a glass of champagne each, and some hors d'oevres. Unfortunately, by this time I was feeling sick. The heat plus cheesecake plus champagne was not a good combination. I was ready to pass out during the toast. After the mini-reception we posed for a photo shoot, during which I heard an ominous sound coming from my dress. It sounded like RRRRRIP! but I didn't see anything.

We went back to the room, where I almost passed out. My mom helped me out of the dress and MFP and I took a nap. Around noon we went to lunch, then changed and spent the rest of the afternoon at the beach, going in the water and swimming and, uh, going to third base in the water, and laying out on the beach. MFP was in a much better mood. :)

In the evening, we showered and changed and went to the Internationale restaurant at the resort, where my parents were waiting. We had dinner with them and the conversation between MFP and them was really natural and flowing, which made me very happy. After dinner, we said goodbye to my parents and went back to the room and...use your imagination.

All in all, a wonderful wedding day. The only thing I would have changed about the wedding would be to have all of my friends and family on the beach witnessing it.

Day 2: Thursday, May 26, 2005

MFP and I got up fairly early (he is used to rising at 5:15 a.m. for work, although we didn't get up THAT early) and went to breakfast at the Terrace restaurant, which is by the pool and is partially outside. I loved that place. We feasted on a breakfast buffet and were given mimosas. I had never had one before, but I knew what they were. It was the earliest in the day that I had ever had a drink.

We met with the wedding coordinator at 9:00 in the wedding office. She was very sweet. We selected our wedding location (the beach, of course), our flowers (white orchids with green ivy) in my bouquet and his boutonniere, our mini-reception location (the rialto terrace, in the gardens) our wedding cake (cheesecake) and our restaurant where we want the dinner that night (the Internationale) and our menu. How exciting! It puts us in a very anticipatory mood. We finished with her at 10:00 and then went on a short orientation of the resort.

Following this, we decided to go to the pool, which had a lot of people in it but was not TOO crowded. Unfortunately, I could not find the bottom half of my tankini, which I THOUGHT I had packed (advice for the day: Never move and go on a trip in the same week.) So I had to wear the same one-piece bathing suit that I wear to swim laps at the Y. Very athletic-looking, very unsexy. I was the only woman in the pool area with a one-piece on. UGGGGHHHH! The first thing I noticed was that the pavement was so hot that you burn your feet if you walk on it without flip-flops. We lay out in the sun for a while, me reading Post Mortem by Patricia Cornwell.

Then I decided to go in the pool. The pool is shallow enough to stand up in, and is very refreshing. It is also full of people relaxing by floating around on these floating mattresses, which I called "floaties." I found an unoccupied floatie and climbed on with difficulty. Then I just relaxed and floated around. Ahhh. This was the life. There was even a bar IN the pool, with underwater stools, so you could swim up to it and get a drink. I drank a virgin strawberry daiquiri and wondered when MFP was going to get in the pool.

I went back to the area where MFP was reading and sunning himself, and he was peeved because I had gotten into the pool without him. I felt terrible. We left and had lunch at the Terrace again. In the afternoon, we went to the beach but did not go in the water, because I had an appointment to get my nails done at 5:00. I wished we could go in the water, because I was getting really hot as I read the adventures of Dr. Kay Scarpetta. We left and I went to the beauty salon and got a French manicure and got my face waxed by a local woman who informed me that the prime minister of Jamaica is named Patterson. Something else I learned about their country: They have a prime minister and a parliament, not a president.

I went back to the room, where MFP was nursing a terrible sunburn. I noticed that I had one on my chest as well, since I forgot to put sunblock there. We were both in a lot of pain. MFP was not in a good mood. He groused that he would be glad when this trip was over, and that made me very stressed, because it had been my idea to come to Sandals to get married, and I wanted him to have a good time and be glad he went. So I started to cry, and he felt bad.

I calmed down and we went to dinner, which that night only was outdoors close to the pool. There was a really nice buffet and long tables, and eating there made us feel better. After dinner there was a fashion show in the same outdoor area, and although I am not interested in fashion shows, the music was good, so I listened to it and enjoyed it. After that there was an art auction. The art was absolutely disgusting, and so MFP and I left. We again erected the barrier in the bed, asked for a 6:00 wake-up call because I had an 8:00 hair appointment the next morning, and went to sleep. Again I slept very poorly.

Oh well, I thought, tomorrow is the wedding, so maybe it will be a better day. By the way, I noticed that the voltage is different in Jamaica (110 volts as opposed to our 120 volts) and so my electric razor sounded way different. It was kind of scary.

Day 1: Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Arriving at BWI Airport (another not-so-good place in Anne Arundel County) in the mid-morning with my dad, I was a nervous wreck. I knew that MFP's name had been misspelled on his plane tickets, and I had spent long, tear-filled hours with the travel agent and both AirTran and Air Jamaica the previous week trying to rectify this. MFP arrived a few minutes later coming off the light rail. We got in line at the AirTran counter, my father being with us for moral support, and waited. One AirTran employee, a short, fortyish female brute with streaked hair, was in front of the counter doing crowd control. She snapped and barked at every single passenger that came through the line. When we passed her, she asked where we were transferring and to what airline, and when I told her, she snapped, "You have to pick up your bags in Fort Lauderdale [the layover point]. We don't have an agreement with Air Jamaica." I would bet my life savings that she was either divorced or had never been married.

We got to the front counter and my heart was pounding. We handed over our tickets and were checked in without a problem. Praise God! One down, one to go. We went through security, and took our seats at the gate. The flight to Fort Lauderdale was uneventful and I slept through a lot of it. Arriving in Fort Lauderdale was my first time ever in Florida. The Sunshine State welcomed me with the stench of cheap cheese pizza, which came from a food stand in the airport. We picked up our bags (praise to God that they were not lost) and headed to the Air Jamaica ticket counter (stupid AirTran, they don't have an agreement with Air Jamaica, so we had to go to the ticket counter AGAIN.) We're not out of the woods yet, I thought. We handed over our tickets and again, no problem (PTL #3!) . We went through security again and flew to Montego Bay, where we had dinner on the plane.

A porter carried our bags to the shuttle van and then DEMANDED a tip. I was so intimidated that I gave him an American five dollar bill, which he greatly appreciated. We climbed into the van and journeyed an hour and a half to Sandals Dunns River in Ocho Rios. I noticed some things immediately about Jamaica:

1. They drive on the left side of the road, like in Britain. As our driver put it, "We drive on the right side, which is the left side." Get it?

2. Jamaica is in the same time zone as Maryland, but they do not have Daylight Savings Time, so the time was an hour behind home.

3. I knew prior to going there that Jamaica is a Third World country, but nothing could prepare me for the poverty I saw during the van ride. Of particular significance was a town called Falmouth. If you took the area around Johns Hopkins Hospital, pulled it apart into pieces, and dropped it in the middle of the tropics...that's Falmouth. It made Bridgeville, Delaware look like Beverly Hills.

4. They do have McDonald's, not that I cared.

We arrived at the resort around maybe 8:30 local time, and were greeted by staff members who gave us cold towels. Then we had to sign and fill out some forms, and were then escorted to our room, which had a king-size four-post bed and a view of the gardens and driveway in front of the main building. We found a letter on our bed from the wedding coordinator telling us that we were to meet with her at 9 the next morning. Then we ventured outside. MFP wanted to get something light to eat, and following him, we ventured into one of the resort's five restaurants, an Italian place. But a well-dressed local whose name tag identified him as "Collin" asked us to leave because I was wearing flip-flops, which were against the dress code. So we ventured to an outdoor bar. I very much liked the idea of having ad lib access to alcohol, so I ordered two whiskey sours, one right after the other, and was soon drunk as a skunk. MFP looked concerned but didn't say anything. After this we went back to the room and erected a barrier in the bed out of extra blankets between us. I slept very poorly. Whether it's Sandals Resort or an Econo Lodge in Breezewood, I always sleep very poorly in hotel rooms.

To be continued.