Went there on our honeymoon. Big mistake. Will never go back and have advised several friends not to go there. We were solicited (aka harassed) to buy every drug imaginable from the moment we got off the plane. Harassed constantly to buy trinkets from the locals.
Shady characters, rampant druggies and criminals everywhere. We were advised by one local not to frequent certain parts of Montego Bay, otherwise “we won’t come back” were his exact words.
Unbelievable poverty in that country, very sad especially to see the children.
Harry Belafonte owns a large, well kept ranch in Jamaica. He lives in NYC most of the time, though.
We went there on our honeymoon in 1994. If we were to do it over, I’d’ve never chosen to go there.
That said, we did the “all inclusive” in Ocho Rios. I thought we were going to die on the ride out there from Montego Bay. Driver of our van (which was supposed to be a new, air-conditioned motor coach with refrigerated and frozen drinks aboard) was an hour late. I think we had ten couples crammed into the van - no a/c. Driver laughed like he was stoned when we asked what happened to the above-mentioned bus. When we asked about drinks, he popped open a cooler tied to the back door. Two of us dared to ask about “frozen” concoctions, and the driver proceeded to pop open the hood so he could plug in a blender. Sadly, the driver had no ice. But doncha worry mon — he’d be making at least one stop on the way out to O.R. - a little shack selling warm “coke” bottles out of the case.
The resort was poorly managed. Many people were standing in long lines when we arrived.
One morning we walked off the property to buy some souvenirs. OMG, the poverty, the stares, the offers to buy weed, etc. On another occasion we took to the water in a little sailboat. No problem — husband sailed at the Naval Academy. As soon as we were about 20 yards offshore, several Jamaican men paddled out of nowhere in little canoes smoking weed. “Wanna buy some ganja, man?” Followed us all around, until Jamaican guy threw up his hands and started yelling profanities at us for not participating in his grass business.
And our worst mistake was thinking I would take one on one instruction and become Padi certified at the resort. Was too innocent to have known the instructor would be stoned, too; giggling the entire time as I nearly drowned in the pool. One time, I rose out of the water, and the instructor was *gone.* After a few minutes, he came falling out of the bushes with smoke seeping out his nostrils. Good Lord, I will never go back there.