Negril: Take The Hard Life Easy

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FromTreasure Beach we went on to Negril; a 2 and a half hour trip, right on the Western coast. Whereas Jakes is the pastel pearl in Treasure Beach’s crown, Negril – like Montego Bay – is a haven of exquisitely placed resorts, some so all-inclusive that you never need leave the resort (I truly don’t understand people who go all the way to the Caribbean only to stay in their own resort) and an incredible stretch of beach that has the whitest sand and bluest sea I have ever come across. Never has the phrase – or hashtag – ‘no filter’ been so applicable. Bourbon beach was a carnival of characters – beer-soaked, leather-skinned European women with low-slung suntanned boobies, Jamaican men in extraordinary hats carrying unidentifiable food and vegetable stuffs, swimming horses (yes!) one of which was called Rude Boy and comprised the best 15 minutes of my entire life (whilst swimming upon him) and latterly, a very, very sore groin. Too graphic?

We stayed in Tensing Pen, a simple yet fairly luxe colonial style resort which lacked some of the the character of Jakes but offered avuncular often hilarious company and incredible views of the sea. There was a bridge 30ft above the water which I forced my best friend to jump off because I am a giant pussy about heights (and waves; those are worse) and whilst we ate plenty of our meals on the beach (2 lobsters for £6, anyone?) we discovered some incredible eateries (and when I say discovered, I mean we got told) including Catcha Falling Star (the apple martinis there are exemplary), Push Cart and The Rock House Hotel (a slightly snazzier resort nearby which has a Greek-style white-washed pool area with similar killer views of the sea. You can also do yoga there.)

I’ve never laughed more than during my few days at Tensing Pen. Perhaps it was the company of an always entertaining friend; or the people we met – people in Jamaica never want to know how you’re current holiday is going, they just want to know when you’re coming back; or the staggering views that left me snapping away with my incredible new Olympus PEN E-PL7) in particular enjoying the incredible ability to import all the photographs onto my phone via Wi-Fi without a cable (I didn’t open my laptop for 10 days which has not happened in five years); or maybe there’s just something in the water. The Jamaican generosity was emotional food for the soul, no better illustrated by our driver Desmond gunning it back to Tensing Pen, as our flight drew closer, because the resort had forgotten to put my suitcase in the car. But as I itch my peeling skin (yup, still going) my mind still wanders to the rasta in his heart-shaped glasses, offering us a free sun bed and imploring us to take the hard life easy.

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This post was sponsored by Olympus.

I’m wearing Bay My Name swimsuit by Bruna Malucelli // Equipment linen shirt (similar here) and Reformation x Camille Rowe shorts // H&M blouse and vintage Levi’s cut-offs // Ephemera swimsuit (similar here) // Isabel Marant Etoile Casey dress and Senso Avery III trainers // same as before plus Topshop sandals.

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