Personality Inspired Calgary Wedding Photographer | tlaw photographer

One of the ports we stopped into was Falmouth, Jamaica.  A small developing port town between Ocho Rios and Montego Bay.  We tried to book an early morning excursion off to just cruise around the area but after waiting for over an hour the bus never showed up.  That was a complete blessing.  I ended up asking one of the tourism ladies where a good place to go for lunch would be.  I wanted her to be clear that I didn’t want no trumped up tourism food (Jamaican Jerk Chicken KFC what?!).  I needed the real deal… tell me where YOU go to eat and tell me what you order and I’ll order the exact same thing.  She just looked at me like I was some crazy tourist with some freaky weird hat on.  She was right, I was some crazy tourist with a freaky weird hat but I still needed food.  Good food. Good Jamaican food.  She checked with Terra to make sure I wasn’t smoking some of the local delicacy before she whipped out a map and said “if you’re sure, then this is where I go… it’s called Peppers, but it ain’t pretty”.  Music to my ears.  So, what to order? Jerk chicken, jerk pork, bammy (a really dense flatbread) and sweet potato.  And of course, you never ever forget the Red Stripe.  And since it was 34 degrees Celcius…lots of Red Stripe.

So we wandered our way through the poorly labeled streets of Falmouth until we found it.  A shack with a corrugated tin roof and no tables, just an old wood bar a girl working behind said bar, and 2 men the working in the 50 degree kitchen amidst the sickly sweet stench of the local blend of Mary Jane.  Jackpot.  My saliva glands created an instant waterfall.   A place that looked like this had to serve some incredible street food.  And it did not disappoint. Jerk chicken? The BEST I’d ever had. Tender, juicy, jerky.  Pork? No man should ever live without roast port. Bammy?  As dense as advertised.  And simple as it should be.  Sweet potato? deep fried deliciousness.  All of this, of course, accompanied by the most ridiculous house made hot sauce ever.  If I could I’d have smuggled that coke bottle of sauce back with me if it wasn’t for the security search that took place to get back on the boat.

We sat at that shack called Peppers for 3 hours engaging a local taxi driver, who took today off as he just left court after fighting a driving ticket he received, about the history of Falmouth.    A slowly developing town thanks to being a newly minted cruise port.  Once a town run by the slave trade and property prospectors that suddenly lost the interest of investors due to the rise of more popular resort towns like Ocho Rios and Montego Bay.  One of his daughter’s came to visit him.  An adorable little girl of 16 months.  He has 5 kids in total, by 3 women.  We bought him a “half-Q” of rum and we became friends.  This was one of the highlights of this trip.  Being able to learn and explore on my own.  Not being touristed. Not being told where to go.  I kinda feel that eating real local cuisine / street food is one of the absolute best ways to experience a new culture.  The locals you meet will tell it like it is.  The good and the bad.  And you don’t leave with some silly fridge magnet that says “Ya Mon!”

Some images from that day

 

The colonial courthouse

 

Peppers occupies the place of what was one a slave house

Jerk Pork!

Look how they spell “Upper Level”. I LOL’d!

A panoramic photograph of Labadee, Haiti from our recent holiday cruise through the Caribbean.  Made by stitching 5 images together.  I’ve got a ton more images to share (which I will do I promise) but I needed to share this one photo.  Haiti was such a beautiful country – granted we were on a private peninsula of the country that was free of the troubles that dominate a large portion of the rest of the country (as told by our kayaking guide Albert who is from the small town of Labadee, Haiti).  The people were extremely friendly and all smiles.  Add to that 30 degree weather and that makes for a pretty happy me!