WEDDING AT BEACHES BOSCOBEL

When Rob and I take road trips, I forget how much I love flying--the exhilarating rush at take off, and, in this case on our way to Jamaica, a rising left turn over the Rockaways and out over the Atlantic, rising through the puffs of clouds to the next layer to cruise at 35,000 feet for the 3 1/2 hour flight to Montego Bay's Sangster International Airport.

Jamaica is the locale of our daughter Allison and Don's wedding on Sunday, and we'll stay from Wednesday to Wednesday soaking in the rays and enjoying whatever the resort has to offer.

It is a two to three hour drive across the island from the airport to Ocho Rios where Beaches Boscobel is located. Our Beaches driver gives us a running commentary as we slowly maneuver around holes and craters in the bumpy road still under construction. He tells us that when the road is finished, the ride will take 45 minutes. The road seems a long way from being finished, but Jamaica is hosting matches in World Cup Cricket beginning in March and the road is supposed to be completed by then. We see building everywhere, and with tourism Jamaica's number one industry, beautiful new hotels and resorts abound. One our driver points out will have 2500 rooms.

As we pull through the gates at Beaches, we're stunned by its beauty. We’re helped from the mini-van and given a welcoming rum punch. They must have the skinny on Rob! Our room is lovely and large, the bedroom area raised two steps above the sitting area. We've a king bed, armoire with TV, stocked refrigerator, and coffee pot. The roomy lower level has a desk, couch, coffee table and chair. We can also watch television from that couch. The sliding doors to the balcony run the full width of the room, and our view is lovely overlooking the resort, gardens, coconut palms, and a partial view of the beautiful teal ocean waters.

Beaches is an all inclusive resort. It is a lovely experience. We are, of course, occupied with wedding thoughts, but Rob and I “force” ourselves to begin the party before anyone else arrives!

First stop is the Bayside bar, one of several on the grounds. We meet a terrific bartender, Shaun, and she is wonderful-learns our names, and whenever we walk by for the rest of the week, we get a big and personal hello! That is exactly how we are treated no matter where we go and what we do. I think one would be hard pressed to find a more responsive and friendly staff.

Dinner that night is in the Bayside Restaurant alongside the pool. This is a buffet, but it is richly arrayed with something for everyone, and everything we taste is delicious. There are linens on the tables, and the servers are excellent, always anticipating our desires. When we ask for coffee, for instance, and we go up to choose our dessert, the coffee is brought just as we return to the table and sit down. That way it is hot no matter how long we are away. Tonight is steak night, and Rob does ask for a small piece, purple and mooing, just as he likes it. And he gets it exactly as he orders. But there is so much else, especially a wide variety of fish choices, and that's where he samples. Everything is wonderful, and we squeeze in a bit of some tempting desserts with nice, strong delicious Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee. This is definitely a lovely start to a lovely week.

The Bayside restaurant is the only place where breakfast is served, so we are back in the morning expecting the same old breakfast buffet. NOT! This is by far the most expansive breakfast buffet I've ever seen. We start with the fresh fruits tasting sweet and juicy and ripe and very unlike anything available at home. Papayas, mangoes, kiwis, and starfruit abound, as do oranges, bananas and grapefruit. There's fresh-squeezed juice as well. Then we come to the fishes. Smoked salmon (lox to me), creamed herring, whitefish, and sardines, all beautifully presented and incredibly appetizing. (Did I make a pun, here?) There's an omelet station, but we pass it for Jamaican specialties--callaloo, described for us by our server, Michael, as Jamaican spinach, and other types of vegetables, bammy, a type of fried fruit bread, and many other possibilities including what might be called Jamaica’s national dish, ackee and saltfish (codfish), ackee being Jamaica’s national fruit. Breakfast this and every other morning is an adventure--trying new Jamaican foods, seeing familiar foods prepared in different ways, or enjoying the quality of old standards. No rush; no fuss. Eveything is "No problem," and at Beaches they seem to mean it.

This morning we go exploring. We'd been given a map at check-in, and there are so many places to see. Like many resorts in the Caribbean, Beaches Boscobel is etched into a mountain. The walks and pathways gently curve down the mountain. Nothing steep, and if one doesn't want to walk down to the beach, there is an elevator. The beach is neither wide nor deep, but there are many offerings: Hobie-Cats, hydrobikes, sea kayaks, snorkeling, scuba diving etc. There are sufficient chaises and plenty of shelter from the sun. Want a massage; there's a hut. Want your hair braided; there's someone available. There's plenty of shade and plenty of sun. The rumor is that the sand from this beach was imported from Cuba, just ninety miles away. Our first three days at Beaches, however, is cursed with unusually wet weather. January in Jamaica is supposed to see about 1/2 inch of rain. We see that on the drive from the airport. It rains sufficiently to suspend water sports, and as family begins arriving for the wedding, we do not get a chance to play. Next time!

We spend most of our time on chaise lounges by the pool—and the swim-up pool bar. You know, the one in all the Beaches/Sandals commercials. On a light note, on the last day when we went to the photo shack to view the photos taken during the stay, the staff member looked at our collection and laughingly commented, “You guys spent a lot of time at the pool bar!” Uh huh!

The pool bar is pretty terrific. It’s opposite a huge waterfall. You sit in water up to your waist, and bubbles come out from under the rim of the bar and up under your feet. That’s how we get the tans on our backs! Milton, our bartender is terrific, ready with Bloody Marys when we first swim up.

The pool, by the way, is huge and cool. It is never crowded, and it is always refreshing. We spend a lot of time there, in the water, at the bar, or snoozing or reading on the lounges.

During our stay we sample each of the restaurants. The Venetian is the Italian restaurant serving wonderful Italian food as well as other marvelous meat and delicious fish offerings. There are paintings on the walls and ceilings, linen service and enough atmosphere to differentiate it from any other restaurant at the resort. We dine there twice, and here is a bit of one meal we shared with Robyn and Neal. I begin with fried calamari unlike any I'd ever tasted. The calamari is neither too dry nor too chewy, and the presentation is a painting on the plate. I follow that with a crisp salad of a variety of fresh market greens, polenta croutons--a little something special—and shaved parmesan cheese. I have a lovely rack of lamb, small and meaty, medium rare as I request. The service, too, is excellent. One would think we are in a land where "your wish is our command" is the order of the day. There are no reservations in the restaurant, yet we do not have to wait, and we are not rushed. It is a splendid dinner.

There is a restaurant for adults only. It is Eleanor's, the "fanciest" restaurant at Beaches where Caribbean food is served. As an aside, there is so much Jamaican pride in everyone we meet. I didn't come from Warwick not to learn a bit about Jamaica, and everyone is willing to tell me something. The specialty of the night at Eleanor's is always a Jamaican dish. Rob begins with Middle Quarter Peppered Shrimp served with a cool lime cream. He follows that with a special Jamaican Pepperpot Soup, a stunning combination of callaloo and other Jamaican vegetables, hot and spicy but not overly, and he loves it. For his entrée he orders Jamaican Steamed Fish with okra, carrots, and scallions, garnished with bammy, a deep fried cassava bread. Marvelous. When dessert comes, a “mundane” crème brule; written in chocolate on the rim is "No Problem." What a pleasant evening.

There are other restaurants on the grounds. Near the pool is BBQ Park where there is always spicy Jamaican jerked chicken, pork, hamburgers and ribs with all good things to go with them. Jerk is a marinating technique developed by the Maroons, the offspring of runaway slaves. Nearer to the beach by the gazebo, similar fare is offered during the day at the Arizona, but at night this restaurant becomes Tex-Mex. Robyn and Neal can be caught there in the evening, sipping their drinks and eating nachos under the stars.

Believe it or not, we don’t spend all our time at the restaurants. We enjoy the pool, the pool bar, and the company. We arrive on Wed., more guests arrive on Thurs., and the rest of the guests on Friday. On Sat., Allison planned a treat for me and Leslie.

There is a Red Lane Spa at Beaches, and Sat. we three go to the spa. Leslie and I luxuriate in the enjoyment of a pedicure and manicure while Allison has a "trial" hair styling and make up. It is a lot of fun, just the three of us girls sipping piña coladas and laughing and commenting on each other's progress or on life in general. Good family time. The stylist and beauticians join in some of the conversation, and it is a great time. Of course we three take pictures!

By noon on Sunday we are all getting ready for the MAIN EVENT. Back to the salon Allison and I go to have our hair done, and then, after I dress, her friends and I rendezvous in her room to help her dress, to take photos, and to drink champagne. Michael comes by to pick up the rings he will carry, and Rob meets us there so we can walk our daughter down the aisle to be married on a sparkling Caribbean afternoon in the gazebo extending out over the water by a man whose family came to Jamaica several hundred years ago to escape the Spanish Inquisition.

Family and friends leave Monday and Tues. We leave Wednesday, and wattaya know--we come back to a New York cold winter. I think we need a vacation!

Much as I enjoyed Beaches, it is a family oriented resort. The affiliated resorts, Sandals, is couples only. I think that is really the way to go.

THE Z THAT STANDS FOR ZORRO!

“Out of the night when the full moon is bright comes the horseman known as Zorro….” Remember Guy Williams and his magnificent stallion Tornado? Remember fat Sergeant Garcia who always needed a shave? If you do, you’ll want to read Isabel Allende’s Zorro, the delightful, adventuresome history of Diego de la Vega and how he became the legendary Zorro the Fox.

If you’re newer to the Zorro tale, perhaps through the recent movies, or even if you’ve never heard of this Californian who fought for justice—not only with remarkable skill and stealth but also with cunning—now is the time to get acquainted with this exciting hero.

The tale begins in 1790 at the San Gabriel mission in Alta California when Captain Alejandro de la Vega becomes enthralled with a wild warrior Indian woman, Toypurnia. These two are destined to become Diego’s parents, but don’t think for a minute that there is anything usual about their relationship or about Diego’s birth or childhood. But I cannot give this story away.

Allende relates a passionate, often funny and suspenseful tale, sometimes tongue-in-cheek, interweaving Diego’s development of skills, ideals, and purpose with California history. She does not hesitate to show the brutality with which the Spanish treated the Indians, robbing them of their way of life while exploiting them. The brutality, of course, extends to all those who resist or question their power. These events give Diego purpose, for he cannot bear to see the injustices perpetrated against those who cannot protect themselves. For him honor means fighting for fairness.

As Diego grows up, he crosses paths with Indian shamans, brave sea captains, pirates like Jean Lafitte, and evil Spanish officials who steal California’s pearls, not for Spain but for themselves and promise death to those who oppose them.

Diego learns of secret societies, meets and lives with gypsies, and educates himself in every way to enable him to fight for right. All these encounters with people and events provide Isabel Allende the means to add action and suspense throughout her tale of this dashingly romantic masked crusader. As Diego fights or loves or learns from those around him, he takes us with him, and the book is difficult to put down.

Through all his adventures, Diego is not alone. Always there, telepathically if not physically, is his faithful boyhood friend, closer to him than a blood brother, Bernardo. They are joined by the de Romeu sisters when Diego studies in Spain and lives at their father’ home.

If you are familiar with Isabel Allende’s earlier work, The House of Spirits, you will have seen her reflecting the Spanish culture in the earlier moments of the “new world.” Enjoy the trip into the past with her, and let your imagination go wild as Zorro makes the sign of the Z.

Historic Jamestown

Somehow it’s impossible to get Virginia off my mind, and I return to the Williamsburg area again in favor of other sections of the historic triangle. We go for the real thing—historic Jamestown, the place where the American way of life was born.

Historic Jamestown as well as historic Yorktown (in a future issue) is operated through a partnership between APVA (Association for the Preservation of Virginia Antiquities) which received 22.5 acres of the town site in 1893 and The National Park Service which acquired the balance of the 1,500 acres in 1934 and designated it as a Colonial National Historic Park. What this means for us is reasonable admission fees, or none since Rob has the Golden Passport, trained professional U. S. Park Ranger Guides, committed and knowledgeable APVA volunteers, actors, and working archeologists all prepared to enhance our ability to step back in time and step up in understanding. For me it is a glorious experience!

Jamestown never fulfilled the destiny of becoming a great city as John Smith envisioned, and so attuned are we to bits and pieces of the romantic Pocahontas legend that the real significance fades in our understanding. Life was harsh, desperate and demanding. Only ninety of the original three hundred colonists survived the 1609-1610 winter. We know this because John Rolfe, the man who married Pocahontas told us so himself! Yes, there beneath the trees lining the James River’s banks stood that colonist who explained why so many others died. The original settlers were “gentlemen,” not craftsmen, and they did not possess the necessary survival skills. The only thing they shared equally among themselves was death!

Someone finally came up with a novel idea: work more; eat more. If one did not take from the common store, he would be given an additional three acres. Nothing like a bit of motivation to make a fellow want to be independent! James I chartered the Virginia Company, after all, to make money, not to coddle. Remember how the Virginia Company stymied wine production (see in archives Williamsburg Winery Nov. 30,2006) by insisting on tobacco. Here the insistence on tobacco caused a shaky, never really successful economy. The company used the “headsight” system to recruit colonists: Pay your own way. The husband receives fifty acres, the wife fifty, and the indentured servant fifty. Seemed like a good deal—in England.

John filled us in on the details of his and Pocahontas’ life here and in England where she died in her early 20s, unable to fight European disease. There is a statue in her honor in historic Jamestown.

Was I listening to Paul Harvey telling me “the rest of the story”? No, I was listening to Richard A. Cheatham of Living History Associates, Ltd. After his illuminating performance, I had a chance to chat with Dick Cheatham. This actor is actually a 14th generation descendent of John Rolfe and Pocahontas. How cool is that?

With this background information we met our park Ranger, Lee Penham Cotton, enthusiastic, humorous, and highly knowledgeable. Intriguing during our time with Lee were some of the archeological facts surrounding the settlement. In trying to unearth John Smith’s original fort, for instance, archeologists had to go through Civil War earthenworks. The drawings, by the way, existing of John Smith’s fort were actually drawn by a Spanish spy!

We were greeted by another colonial settler in the Jamestown Church where we could see the original footings and walls excavated and protected by glass. From its inception, Jamestown was a full-fledged Parish of the Church of England, a fact that remained for more than 150 years until the outbreak of the American Revolution. Reincarnated several times because of fires, the church, in 1614, was where John Rolfe married Pocahontas. The partially ruined church tower is the only 17th century structure standing above ground in Jamestown and one of the earliest English built edifices standing in the United States.

On the royal seal above the entryway, I saw the Lion, representing the power of mighty England, and the emblem of the Royal Order of the Garter. A wonderful story surrounds this oddly named rank. It seems that Edward II was dancing with his mistress when her garter fell off. He said, “Evil to those who think evil,” and he then elevated the garter to the highest order.

Here, too, the first representative legislative assembly in the New World met in 1619. Imagine. This is OUR history.

Even Queen Elizabeth has visited. She came in 1957 to commemorate the 350th anniversary of Jamestown’s founding.

Outside we were able to see ongoing archeological digs of John Smith’s 1607 fort. We received explanations from an APVA guide. We wandered through the rest of the area, looking at the different monuments to Smith and Pocahontas. There is also a Tercentery Monument. We visited the glass house where artisans demonstrated 17th century glass blowing techniques, one of Virginia’s earliest industries, begun in 1608 by German and Polish craftsmen.

By 1699 after a tumultuous life and burning by back country settlers and a Statehouse fire in 1698, the government moved from Jamestown to Williamsburg. The town never recovered.

Once again, I wholeheartedly recommend our National Park Service for protecting and maintaining not only our natural resources but also for preserving our heritage through their dedicated Park Rangers. From the East Coast to the West Coast, we’ve never been disappointed with a visit to a National Park.

BTW, you can also visit nearby Jamestown Settlement, a living history museum, but after the major part of the day in Historic Jamestown, we were just unable to do it this time. Guess we’ll just have to go back!

DON'T MISS THE BRIDGE OF SAN LUIS REY

Thornton Wilder’s The Bridge of San Luis Rey is a great book! I knew that when I picked it up many moons ago. It was even better this time. The benefit of maturity allowed me to appreciate aspects of that greatness which I missed in my youth.

Years ago I concentrated on the devout Brother Juniper’s missionary-zeal inspired proposition that behind every occurrence is a divine reason. How much more influential would religion be if we could go beyond “faith” and actually understand God’s purpose and plan for us? What a great collector of souls Brother Juniper would become if he proved his proposition. I wanted that answer too.

But maturity provides new dimension to Wilder’s slim, one hundred page novel. I maneuver my own way through the maze. I see that the answer to Brother Juniper’s question is unnecessary. Que Será Será. It’s how one goes through life that matters and on what one places importance that adds value. There is a bridge that doesn’t break, and it is made of something very different from the tangible osier of which the Bridge of San Luis Rey was woven. But you have to read the novel to see if you agree with Wilder.

The famous opening line, “On Friday noon, July the twentieth, 1714, the finest bridge in all Peru broke and precipitated five travelers into the gulf below” tells us almost everything we need as background, but before the paragraph ends, Wilder says, “The bridge seemed to be among the things that last forever.” But it wasn’t. The bridge Wilder constructs in this investigation of the human condition is not one that is tangible, but is it one that is eternal.

TRAVEL TIP -- JANUARY

Once again I recommend checking the difference between the cost of airport long-term parking and long-term parking at an airport hotel. I’ve recommended some hotels and a long time parking site away from the airport for Newark airport, but at JFK, the Ramada Plaza is right on the airport grounds. There was only a $20.00 difference between a comfortable night at the airport and two hours extra sleep and airport long-term parking. Our room charge with 7 days' parking was $169.00. We were briskly shuttled to our terminal, and we were picked up with no more than a five minute wait. Can’t ask for more than that. A place to look for the fit that’s right for you is ParkSleepFly.