Sometimes you are just so tired of the hustle and bustle, so sick of the words economic crises, you can’t even think straight. That’s when you REALLY need a plane ticket the heck out of Dodge and you might be willing to rent out the cat, sell the Jaguar, or throw your house keys in the gutter for all you care.
That’s about where I was recently when the Traveling Pooka flashed a ticket to the southern coast of Jamaica in front of me for a long weekend. OMG. It was better than any medicine and three times as nice as a vial of valium.
We landed in Montego Bay, rented a car, and headed over the mountains for 3 hours to travel about 40 miles to Treasure Beach. It’s a remote string of fishing villages with one fabulous refuge to stay called Jakes. There’s great conversations, local patois, and a sense that you are someplace real rather than disneyesque. And, yes, it is gorgeous.