While they were sipping a complimentary rum punch, I stayed on the plane with a handful of Jamaicans until Kingston. My curiosity had been engaged by previous visits to the island. This time I wanted a more active and intimate experience. Somewhere down there was Blue Mountain Peak, one of the highest points in the entire Caribbean. The Jamaica Tourist Board had suggested something they referred to as a classic trek.
Hikers travel up the mountainside in darkness to reach the summit just in time to greet the sunrise.
My nose was wiggling. The airplane had just zoomed to a stop at the Kingston airport in Jamaica, and as I walked across the tarmac, I swore I got a whiff of a spicy aroma hanging in the air. Oh, I knew I was getting carried away, but I was on my way to Port Antonio, the place where jerk chicken was supposedly invented. Thoughts of food do that to me, since I am a born foodie. Although I certainly enjoy the sights and sounds, museums and monuments, sun and surf of a vacation destination, nothing quite pleases me like ending a day with a fine dinner made with local ingredients, whether a herbaceous bowl of rice and peas in Jamaica, or a fancy nouvelle creation of grilled shrimp with cilantro and mango sauce.