JAMAICA: MOCKINGBIRD HILL, THE BLUE MOUNTAINS, AND OUR JOURNEY HOME

 February 18, 2023

Not far from Port Antonio, a city of about 14,000 on the northeastern coast of Jamaica, is a lovely eco boutique hotel named Mockingbird Hill. 

It is located between the Caribbean Ocean and the Blue Mountains, which contain Jamaica's highest peak (7402 feet), and it has some incredible scenery.

Photo from Travel Weekly

Our room was charming and matched the beauty of the outdoors. It felt like one of the cabins we  stayed in when we traveled to Kenya and Tanzania--louvred windows and doors with no glass, a large bed with netting, bamboo furniture, tile floors, etc. 

The fresh flowers were from the property.

There was just one flaw. The hotel was having problems with their water system, so there was no water during the night, but by morning it was back.

We had a great view of the Caribbean from our balcony.

We also enjoyed great sunsets.

Bob took several bird walks with a guide on the grounds, In the morning, I joined them for about 15 minutes, but without a big lens or binoculars, it really is not very fun to go birdwatching. I enjoyed the flora instead.

I really loved how they brought the outdoors inside with many floral arrangements of local plants.

I did do some of my own bird watching. There was a peahen lounging in the front yard.

The lodge and dining room had some pretty interesting  light fixtures made from empty glass bottles.  Not exactly what I want in my entry, but it works here!

I enjoyed eggs benedict with smoked salmon while Bob and Chad were birdwatching.

Chad was so taken by the beauty of Mockingbird Hill that he said he wanted to come back with his wife, who is also an avid birder.

Around noon we checked out and joined our guide Lindon and two Australians, Rosa and Linda, to tackle the Blue Mountains. Lindon drove the two women in a large truck, and we followed behind in our rental car.

About an hour into the drive, we stopped at a jerk barbeque place to get some lunch. It was on the road running parallel to the beach.

The drive along this north shore of Jamaica is really beautiful. It is undeveloped--at least for tourism--so no big hotels, tourist-y shopping centers, or tourist-y restaurants. Just the natural view of the wild ocean. The water is mutliple shades of blue and seems quite clear. Some areas had significant wave action. I think Chad was wondering if the snorkeling is any good out there. 

I couldn't resist recording a little bit of the Jamaican talk. It's no easy task to understand the locals!

The "kitchen" was open to the parking lot, so we had a good view of the process--if we could see through the smoke.

It was by far the best jerk chicken we had in Jamaica--tender, juicy, and flavorful. We also tried the jerk pork and some "paradises," fried cornmeal fingers. Everything was delicious.

Shortly after eating, we left the coast and headed south into the mountains. The roads are unbelievably bad. For one thing, they are very narrow, really just enough for one vehicle. 

There were many, many times we could barely squeeze past opposing traffic, and other times when we or the approaching vehicle had to back up to a wider section of the road.  I kept hearing Chad, who was driving, say, "Oh boy."

Then there was the condition of the road--huge, unavoidable potholes, sections with little or no paving, sharp hairpin turns, some ascents so steep that Chad had to gun the engine to make it to the top. There are lots of blind curves , and it is customary to honk before going around a curve to let others know you are coming. At one point there was a huge pile of soft dirt in the road and the only way through was over the top. The truck our guide was driving had no problem, but we were in a Toyota RAV without 4-wheel drive. We were lucky to make it through.

Chad did a masterful job of driving, especially since they follow the British style of steering wheel on the right, driving on the left.

In addition to the narrow road, there were steep drop offs on one side WITH NO BARRIER.  If you misjudged the distance, well, "Oh boy."

This shack on the side of the road was selling digital credit. It must be for the mountain residents who drive to town for supplies because there was certainly nowhere to spend money along this road.

Our first stop was at the bottom of what looked like a little used path going straight up a steep hill to a squatter's house surrounded by deep forest and, strangely, fruit trees.

It looks like electricity is being "borrowed" from nearby power lines using a jerry-rigged system of poles and wires. The same was true with water, which appeared to come from a hose that connected into something down the hill. I have no idea if there are toilet facilities.

The toothless, dreadlocked man who lives here was happy to come out and chat and pose for a photo.  He even picked a grapefruit (maybe a pomelo?) from one of his trees and gave each of us a juicy slice. 

I was impressed by his little garden, a little hard to see here, but included tomatoes, peppers, and a few other vegetables.

The reason we stopped here was because it is a good place for birds.  Bob got photos of the black and iridescent-green hummingbird with the very long split tail that is Jamaica's national bird (the red-billed streamer tail):

He also got a few photos of a crested quail dove:

. . . and of the Jamaican peewee and Jamaican toady.

Typically, while Bob is focusing his long lens on the tree tops, I use my camera for up-close photos of flowers. There were lots of varieties in the Blue Mountains.

And here's a random shot of our license plate: "Jamaica, Land We Love. Toyota, Brand We Love."  

Back on the road, we kept our upward trajectory to the mountain range heights.

Suddenly, we arrived at this huge parking lot at what appeared to be the highest point we would drive. After the claustrophobia of the narrow roads, this kind of open space was shocking, to say the least.

Newcastle,  the name of the community surrounding the parking lot, began as a coffee plantation but became a British military base in 1840 after one of the generals noted that yellow fever, to which many of the British troops had succumbed, was far less common in the cool mountains. The large parking lot was once parade grounds. 

I read that back when this area was used as a base, British troops would march 12 miles up the winding road from Kingston (at sea level) to this spot (4,000 feet) while carrying their gear. Impressive.

In 1959, Newcastle became a training site for the West Indies Federation's Federal Defence Force, which is what in continues to be to this day.

We kept driving, stopping again at the side of the road in a wider area where we saw a ring-tailed pigeon and a rose-breasted grosbeak.

Classic birder poses:

Overall it was a LOT of driving, about five hours, for just two stops, but we did get to see a part of Jamaica up close that most tourists only see on the horizon.

We spent one last night in a hotel in Kingston, getting up at 4:00 AM and leaving for the airport at 5:00. The Kingston Airport has some interesting features, like these papier-mâché busts of Jamaican heroes, the first thing we saw upon entering the airport. From left to right: Marcus Mosiah Garvey, Paul Bogle, Norman Washington Manley (the airport's namesake), Alexander Bustamante, George William Gordon, Samuel Sharpe, and Nanny of the Maroons.

Next to that is a tribute to Jamaican track stars.

Deeper into the airport is this tribute to Jamaica's independence, granted in 1962. Most of the busts here are the same people honored near the entrance.

We appreciated high school student renderings of international heroes, including Barack Obama and Nelson Mandela.

In the main terminal, huge streamer tail hummingbirds, Jamaica's national bird, hover overhead. With tail, they must be 8-10 feet long.

The gift shops are full of Jamaica's biggest icon, Bob Marley.  He even has his own coffee shop that references one of his most popular songs.

I bought my only souvenir of the trip at the airport, some jerk powder and some Jamaican curry powder.

We flew home through Miami, where our three-hour layover turned into a five+-hour layover. Gotta love American Airlines. 

All in all, a wonderful trip!