More Jamaica

When they say mini-bar, they mean it.

Red Stripe in the fridge, of course, but also rum, vodka, gin and brandy. Refilled daily. How's a guy supposed to leave the room and get to the swim up?

If you know the name of your mini-bar guy, you got a problem. Mahn.

And there are lots of places to buy trinkets. No problem, mahn. I'm surprized there weren't more T-shirts printed with this expression.

Lots of Jimmy Buffett themed stores as well. I seem to remember yelling at this guy last summer.

And they grow 'em big down here. A moth in the lobby. Actually a behemoth moth in the lobby.
Zoom in, eh?

And of course, what vacation would be complete without a Rastafarian steel band playing outside your window. All week long. If I hear Buffalo Soldier one...more...time......

Luckily, they usually got tired about six or seven and went home.

And we picked the absolute perfect time to get away (see next post). It snowed and was below freezing every single day we were gone. We got updates throughout the week as different groups arrived.

Usually the crummy weather follows me on vacation, but not this time, baby.

And did I mention they had a Jerk Hut on the beach? [Yeah, yeah, did you work there, Urban?] The best jerk chicken you will ever find. Although we had fancy restaurants available, we ate jerk chicken (with the hottest jerk sauce you will ever find) every day on the beach. On plastic plates on our knees.

And one of our party should really be nominated for a Nobel Prize. Did you know if you turn a Frisbee over, it will hold seven beer? Seven, I tell you! It even floats in the freakin' ocean!