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| quote: | Originally posted by MindShifter
i felt the *exact* same way after i went there for spring break my soph year of college.
fucking absolutely gorgeous, but the conditions anywhere but the "touristy" areas are horrible.
a couple of stories that you could probably relate to...
when we first got to the airport in montego bay we all had to get on a bus that would take us to negril. so we all pile onto this huge tour bus (think nice, not school bus) we go maybe 1/2 a mile before the guy stops and pulls over.
everyone is basically sayin  at this point.
i look out the window and this local guy gets outta this shitty rusted out honda hatchback and grabs a cooler, and gets on the bus. starts sellin redstripe to everyone for $1 a beer. so everyone gets a few. he gets off the bus. busdriver stands up, and takes out a garbage bag full of weed, starts selling it.
needless to say after that the bob marley got cranked and it was the best 1.5-2 hr bus ride of my life.
the thing that was killin me would be walkin up and down the beach and the locals would be walking w/ a bag full of cigarettes on their head and they'd just say "cigarettes, marjuana, cocaine, scuba diving, para -sailing" over and over. yeah i think i'll do scuba diving and/or para-sailing from someone trying to sell me drugs 
what a week tho, i probably lost 2 years off my lifespan with the partying that occured there.
and yeah ricks is fuckin badass jumping off the cliffs ftdub. the locals are crazy tho, jumping out of that tree doing ridiculous flips |
Oh man, that sounds amazing!
It reminds me of Morocco, in Tetuan.
When we exited the bus from our ferry off the Stait of Gib, there were so many little girls selling jewelry and me not experiencing their means of doing things, I let her keep talking about the jewelry and pressuring, pressuring, pressuring for I think more than 20 minutes because I didn't want to seem rude. That whole bartering system was so overwhelming, to the verge in the beginnning that I'd become so pissed that I had to remind myself it was a part of the culture. Them following you, you could barely rest your eyes upon anything without someone running up to you, saying he'll sell it for 79348569 rupees. You say no, you only have 637463 rupees, and it continues, him stating a woman spent years making it in her hands. You saying your not interested. Him saying okay okay, 9872987 rupees. You say no. Walk off. He follows you. Another joins. And then you feel horrible knowing his and his families meal for that night rely on the double fold price you're going to pay for a Persian rug.
Everywhere you went to use the restroom, there was a woman standing by the sink awaiting to wash your hands when you were finished. You think 'no way, I can wash my own hands plus I don't want to feel like an uppity American who can't even wash my own hands' but then again, she was doing it to survive through tips. I won't lie, after having your hands washed by someone everywhere you go, it feels lavish and spoiling but it was her meal at the end of the night as was well.
Whoa sorry. Back on point, great pics Y! It looks absolutely stunning!
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