First Leg – Negril to Montego Bay to Ocho Rios, transfer at Pier 1 – 1h30m
I purchased my ticket at the Knutsford bus terminal with an hour and a half to spare. Fare was 3700 J’s.
I briefly toured the Square One Mall across the street. It’s an enclosed arcade of upscale souvenirs and jewellery stores. A stark contrast to the open air Negril Craft Market downtown, where you will be beckoned, hollered at, and invited to view each and every vendors craft stall or booth. Everyone is friendly, but expect high-pressure sales tactics. None of that at the mall. Take your pick.
While waiting for the bus, there’s a pretty cool bar made entirely from colourfully painted recycled shipping containers, called Beach Bunny. They have a little pool, and reclining chairs by the beach. I bought a Red Stripe from the bar for 350J, and took my pack down to the beach chairs. There were life guards and lots of staff around, and locals felt comfortable leaving their phones and tablets unattended on their chairs. I felt like it was a safe place to leave my bag for a moment and took the opportunity to go for a quick dip in the turquoise water. Worth it. (Alternatively, you could leave your belongings at the bus station, if you have a lot of stuff.)
After a refreshing swim in the saline sea, I ordered some shrimp tacos and a rum pineapple, which came out to about 1950J, which felt like a lot. I tipped 100J anyway. I’ve been forgetting to tip a lot, and I’m starting to feel ok about that when things are so often inflated. I tip when I get a fair price as a sign of I gratitude, but I don’t want to come off as a Big Man, flashing his cash all over the place. I would rather been seen as a broke and stingy backpacker than a walking ATM.
On the beach, I was offered a bracelet that I liked from a local artisan for 500J. I offered him 1000 for 3, and we were both happy with that. If you find souvenirs that you really like, you’ve got more leverage buying in bulk, so stock up at a discount.
I made it back to the bus with minutes to spare, and met up with a couple German backpackers who I’d seen at Judy House a few days prior. We hurriedly puff a few Ganga blunts in preparation for the ride, while the Caribbean rain rinses dried sea salt from my skin.
On the bus, it’s cozy and posh. The TVs play a couple episodes of Brooklyn 99 before the main feature, 2003’s Daddy Day Care starring Eddie Murphy. The seats recline adequately, further than any Greyhound I’ve ever been on. I bring my only carry-on with me. It NEVER goes under the bus, in any country.
We make a brief stop in Montego Bay to transfer busses before the airport.
I watch the beaches pass by me on the left, thick green jungle on the right. The roads are lined with goats on short ropes and the rusted skeletons of abandoned cars, stripped down to their bare metal frames.
We cruise to Ocho Rios. I write a little, and nap a little.
Second Leg – Ocho Rios to Kingston – 4 hours
Coming into to Ocho Rios, you may see some massive ocean liners docked at the port.
You’ll transfer here at Ocho Rios, Pier 1. There are a few shops and quick food places to grab a bite before you hunker down for the next long leg of the journey, then it’s more of the same for four hours. Smooth ride. Dennis the Menace from 1993.
I arrived in Kingston as dusk set in. It wasn’t a long walk to the guest house I was staying at, but I have been advised by locals and expats alike, not to travel too much after dark, especially in Kingston. My host graciously picked me up from the bus station.
It’s a beautiful backpackers hostel, run by wonderful people.
Sue MacKenzie was extremely accommodating over the phone and email for pre-booking and airport travel arrangements. I was able to book two nights with her directly. I didn’t want to pre-commit to too many nights before seeing the place, despite overwhelmingly positive reviews. My only regret is that I didn’t book more nights. I was hoping to extend my stay once I was there, but February is a busy time of year and by the time I had arrived, I was only able to book one more night.
The spaces range from a hammock in the back yard for 1000JMD (10USD) per night, private rooms for 30USD, to private bathroom suites for 90+USD, and entire little cabins. There’s a range of comfort and budget levels, but they’re all impeccably clean and maintained every day. There are even dorm beds and a shared kitchen with multiple outdoor spaces to chill and enjoy the great views and good vibes.
The entire property is secured by locked gate, fence and Martel in the evening. The rooms have lockboxes (BYO lock. I carry a few small ones with me.)
There’s a self-service honour bar for drinks and snacks open 24/7. You just write down what you take on the ledger, and it gets added to your tab each day. You can settle up when you leave or in 7 days, max. I love the concept, and it appears to work well for them. I certainly spent a little more than I would have otherwise. Self-restraint not included, you’ll have to bring you own.
I initially refused the 50USD airport pickup offer in favour of finding my own way. I know from experience that local busses and shuttles are a fraction of the cost, and exponentially more adventurous. Call me crazy, but there’s something I love about being crammed into a 28-passenger van with 45 people for 4 hours, speeding down narrow mountain roads for 4 dollars. I realize that novelty comes from the privilege of this not being my daily commute, and I’ve never had the patience for commuting in any economy, but I would expect a stranger to the TTC would be equally amused by the sardines at rush-hour.
Landing in MBJ, after a brief delay at customs, I had missed any connecting busses to Negril. Taxi drivers were offering me rides starting at 100USD for just myself, going down all the way to 60USD. That $50 ride was starting to look pretty good, if it were still available. I called my guesthouse host for assistance, and she was out of options – no one was available last minute. I was on my own now.
It was too late to wander downtown in the dark, encumbered by my backpack. I waited for the next flight to come in, an American Airlines jet with the next round of vacationers destined for resorts with their pre-arranged transportation. Slim chances any of them would be going my way.
As I stood in arrivals asking, “Negril? Negril?”, I was greeted by hurried individuals and shaking heads. I wasn’t the only one trying to hustle a ride, and the cabbies and bus drivers were not impressed. They were already visibly discontent that I had refused their inflated offers, and one driver took me aside to shut me down. He reiterated the price was the price, per person, and I was not going to get a deal by splitting on a ride with someone. He thought I was trying to poach his customers, but at this point I was just hoping to get lucky, maybe someone was returning and had their own vehicle. I was grasping at straws.
I went back to the bus counter, and finally got a break. One person had arrived and was also going to Negril. So they put me in a car that was also picking up another person on the way. The best part? We split and it was only 25USD! Winning? Barely.
Persistence paid off, but was it worth it to wait two hours with no certain outcome at the prospect of saving 25 bucks? No. Certainly not. What could I have done differently to save some money?
I could have arrived on an earlier flight, giving me enough time to scout a local bus in daylight hours. I could have not been delayed at customs by no-one’s-fault-but-mine (adventure!). I could have taken the original offer, knowing I’m in a new place and don’t yet have a lay-of-the-land. Lesson learned.
Rookie mistake. I suspected this might be an issue, in fact I read it would be. Still, I couldn’t escape the allure of buying a “one-way ticket” for the first time in my life. It will probably also be the last.
Many countries won’t let you in unless you have an out. That is to say, your departure must be booked in advance of your arrival. Fair enough, they don’t want to get stuck with you.
I had planned to visit Cuba directly following Jamaica, but I hadn’t purchased my flight yet. I was hoping that I could find a better deal last-minute from the airport than I could online. More on that in another post, the myth of flying standby (in progress).
But that didn’t fly well for Jamaican customs. They were not amused by my lack of travel planning (aka my sense of adventure!). So I was hauled into an office for an hour while I pulled out my laptop and fervently researched my escape plan. I already had a rough idea of the flight I was going to take, so that saved my some time. FlightConnections was my friend here.
Luckily, I was able to quickly purchase an InterCaribbean Airlines from KIN to SCU for 100USD+taxes. Problem solved, right?
“Where you going from Cuba then?” he asked, not so patiently. “What’s it to you?”, I politely rephrased. I didn’t think it made any difference once I was out of here. But he explained that if I didn’t have an exit flight from Cuba also, I would get tossed back to Kingston and become his problem again.
Once he saw my receipt for the ticket to Cuba, he was reasonably satisfied I wasn’t just a hobo looking to take up residence in his tropical paradise, and let me go before buying the Cuba exit ticket, “But make sure you buy your ticket before you leave.” I promised I would, and was on my way.
Now… after being delayed in the airport for two hours, it’s dark, and all the busses have gone. How do I safely get to Negril, 1.5 hours drive from Montego Bay?
Where I’ve been, and where I’m goin’ to. This is how I travel, with all the mistakes I make along the way. A Canadian digital nomad’s guide to travel hacking.
