There are surprising echoes of Ireland in Jamaica. Not only in the names and accents left behind by Irish settlers carried across via the British Empire, but in the landscape itself. Beyond the beaches and turquoise water lies a deeply green island interior, lush and mountainous, occasionally reminiscent of the west of Ireland under better weather.
However, Jamaica cannot be spoken of without reference to last year’s Hurricane Melissa, a beast of storm, larger than the island itself, which made landfall at New Hope in 2025, causing ruinous damage and claiming 45 lives. Such was the catastrophic impact of the storm in Jamaica, the name Melissa is now retired from the rotating list of storm names by the World Meteorological Organisation, to be replaced by the name Molly which will next appear in 2031.
Driving across Jamaica there are still pockets where the harsh hand of the storm is visible in ruined buildings, ripped off roofs and flattened trees. However, as a people the Jamaicans have a huge capacity for looking forward and already some 80 percent of resorts have been restored and are open again for business. A waitress tells me she is a farmer, with two acres under her management. Melissa destroyed her crops but she will plant next year. She is still a farmer even without crops. This optimism is a hallmark of everyone I meet.
Dance
The Jamaicans dance often. And every dance is a story. Rhythmic beats start up and dancing is infectious. People often line up, dancing in moves that echo each other and start a Jamaican wave. Drop a shoulder, sashay in and out, and wash a window with first one hand, then another. And much jumping, first one leg then the other. This is nothing like Irish dancing, it must be said.
We are first introduced to dancing on a yacht provided by Aristocrat in Montego Bay or MoBay as it is called locally. Snorkelling and swimming are on offer but it is the sight of the crew and guests dancing at the front of the boat that captures our imagination. Even the more sedentary of us join in with matching hand signals. It is joyous.
Language
Ya’Mon is ubiquitous. It is the perfect answer to many questions, acts as a polite salutation, and bonds people together in harmonious union. At first it feels awkward on the tongue, almost like cultural appropriation, but after a few days it slips out naturally. The locals nod approvingly when visitors finally surrender to it.
We hear another expression – blouse and skirt – used as a form of exclamation but while definitely colourful, we are not confident enough to use in case it turns out to be a Jamaican ‘Póg mo thóin’ joke.
Bob Marley
His influence is very evident all across the island. One Love is repeated on shop fronts, on tee-shirts and even used as passwords. The Bob Marley Museum, located at 56 Hope Road in Kingston, comes complete with singing tour guides. Our tour guide can sing almost any Wailers track on request, producing obscure songs with alarming ease and defeating even the more committed Marley fans in the group.
He also points out that the singer never walked up stairs but took the steps three at a time, in a jumping energy reflected in Jamaican dance.
Accommodation, Food and Rum
We stay in five-star accommodation. Each stop reveals a different version of Jamaica, from polished resort luxury to barefoot eccentricity. We begin at the Iberostar Beachfront Resort in MoBay when we first arrive and patient hotel staff keep the kitchens and restaurant open despite our tardy arrival. A violin player and crooner keeps the late night crowd entertained in the bar, mostly Americans. Our rooms are vast with balconies overlooking the beach, perfect for sundowners.
Next stop FootePrints in Negril, the capital of casual. A new hotel right on the famous silky seven-mile beach, where I meet my first Jamaican Patrick, selling legal weed on the beach with his friend Neville and singing at the same time.
Rick’s Café is nearby, famous for people jumping from cliff tops into the sea and magnificent sunsets. One member of our group takes the dive as does our tour guide Kiwayne. Both are cheered.
Jakes at Treasure Beach is our next find, a collection of exquisite cabins on the beach, fitted out with reclaimed wood, dressed four poster beds and eclectically brightly coloured paint. Our hosts, the Henzell family are made up of octogenarian mum Sally, son Jason and wife Lorna. The resort name is derived from a parrot once minded by Sally – and that is all you need to know to understand the beautiful eccentricity of the place.
Last stop, Couples Resort at Ocho Rios, an all-inclusive resort, complete with entertainment and never empty glasses of champagne.
There is a common thread in Jamaican food – Jerk. A combination of spices dry rubbed on practically any and every food but most particularly on chicken. It forms the basis of wraps, fajitas, BBQs and snacks. Everything is Jerked.
And rum of course. The Pogues may have coined Rum Sodomy & the Lash in their second album, but the enslaved peoples of Jamaica discovered this sweet liquor from the waste products of Molasses in the production of sugarcane. The brutal lives on the plantations were perhaps made more bearable by rum but their suffering is not ignored. At the Appleton Rum Distillery, ‘Lest we forget’ is marked by a sculpture depicting the misery of the slaves.
At our tasting, the guide invites us to watch the legs of rum slide down the glass. The better and older the rum, the slower and softer the legs, he tells us, almost whispering in joy.
Inland adventures
The interior roads are not for the faint-hearted, reduced to almost single lane, unsurfaced tracks leading up steep mountains. But fortune favours the brave as the views on top are spectacular, with sweeping lush vistas falling away to the sea, a million stars lighting the sky and a cool breeze welcoming our hot limbs.
We are treated to a Farm to Fork dinner by Jason and Lorna from Jake’s where each course is explained in terms of local produce. The symbiotic relationship between hotelier and farmer is very pronounced – each supporting the other. They have been active in sustainable tourism initiatives and in helping Treasure Beach people get back on their feet after Melissa.
On our last night we venture up to Murphy’s Hill, perhaps with some Irish connections, where we are greeted by the minister of Tourism, Hon. Edmund Bartlett, who encourages us to write words that will generate tourism. At this stage of our island love-in, little encouragement is required. Jamaica has entirely won us over.
To the Boats
But Jamaica is best understood not from a hotel balcony but out on the water. And this is my defining moment.
Captain Dennis at Treasure Beach is our leader for the day. He is calm in direct contrast to the waves which are not. There are four long boats engaged to take our group, with ten to a boat. The boats are pulled into the beach by crew, standing in the warm waters, pushing the boats to breach the sand. We line up, cameras and bags held high, as we wade out to the stern and clamber on board. Once all embarked, we sit two to a bench and look out to sea. Captain Dennis calls the word and motor engines are launched and we head off.
The four boats skip along the surface of the water, some spray falling over the edges. It is calm, says Captain Dennis. I am not sure, but I am in the minority, watching great big smiles plastered across the faces of the other travellers. We hug the shore and head out to Pelican Bar.
It takes half an hour to reach the solitary outpost, wrecked during the hurricane, but rebuilt since. Pelican bar is a rig, a tiny wooden island in the blue Jamaican waters. We disembark and look in awe at our surroundings. On the fragile wooden structure are all sorts of posters and stickers left behind by tourists and celebrating their nationalities. I try to find an Irish sticker but cannot, and am sad I did not bring one to leave behind – Ireland was here.
People buy beers, the card machine is intermittent but works eventually. Cash is preferred. It’s hard to see how a signal can be reached on this remote outpost. People swim in the sea, protected by an underwater platform attached to the rig, safe and warm, and perhaps doubling as a watery toilet. Climbing back onto the rig is a more difficult affair and most have to be pulled up by the crew. It is not an elegant remount.
Then we are off again to our beach BBQ, but this time we are heading into the wind and the waves. It will be bumpier, says Captain Dennis and he is not wrong. The boats bob on the surface and once the engines start, cut across the water. There is much more spray as the boats pitch into the air, holding neutral space for several seconds before hitting back on the water. This rocks the boat. My other travellers are laughing in great merriment. It is a Jamaican rollercoaster, they say. I discover hidden depths of profanity and curse enough to make a sailor blush. I hold on for dear life through clenched teeth. The others are not so affected, their laughter and shrieks louder than my cursing.
This is only a ten-minute trip and we arrive at a golden beach, BBQ and bar. I am helped out of the boat and my pale face gradually finds colour, that and a rum punch. I am asked if I might like one, and I say Ya’Mon. It is the right answer.
Lunch is a tasty affair with fresh crab meat served on plantain leaves and tickled with hot sauce. We are served by Captain Dennis – is there no end to his talents? – while other crew have the BBQ up and running. We are served lobster and fish and Jerk Chicken. Jerk Chicken deserves its caps, it is the most popular dish in the island and with good cause.
There are hammocks and sun loungers with shade for relaxing. We swim a little, the water languid and shallow. We laugh and talk. I try not to think of the return journey.
When it is time to climb aboard the boats again, I am apprehensive. Everyone else is thrilled. We head off, four long boats chasing along the shore, racing each other across the waves. The boats cling to the edge of waves, while the Captain steers our boat, slicing through the water, creating extra bounce and speed. This time, despite hanging on for dear life, I am actually enjoying the ride. I have a big stupid grin on my face and I greet the waves with delight. Have I got my sea legs or my rum punch legs, I am not sure, but now I understand the sheer joy of being in the boats.
I know the Captain and his crew are seasoned sailors and have never lost a passenger, but this fact is only of value to me now on the return journey.
I am not dead, I tell my fellow travellers when we finish the second trip. No, indeed, I am very much alive. Thank you, Jamaica.
Pricing
Iberostar Beach Resort starting at EUR446 per night in a Junior Suite on All Inclusive, with taxes applied.
https://www.iberostar.com/uk/hotels/montego-bay/iberostar-selection-rose-hall-suites/
Foote Print Hotel starting at $259 per night (+$65.75 taxes and fees) https://negrilfooteprints.com/
Jake’s Hotel Rooms from $162 per night (+ $44.8 taxes and fees) https://jakeshotel.com/
Couples Tower Isle starting at $471 per night in s Super Ocean Room (inc. Taxes and fees) . https://couplesresorts.co.uk/
Aristokat Tour. From $155 per person for the first 15 pax https://aristokattours.com/
Flights with Virgin Atlantic London to Montego Bay begin at £578 https://www.virginatlantic.com/en-EU
