by Tina Banerjee
- 05/12/2007
I was staring at the ceiling of my seafront Jamaican cottage with a growing sense of alarm.
Less than 30 feet away through a pair of wooden-shuttered doors, I could hear battering waves, howling winds and lashing rain. A tropical storm had clipped the country's south coast and had been raging all night, waking me up from a sleep filled with torrid dreams of being swept from my bed into the Caribbean Sea.
Someone had forgotten to tell the powers-that-be that this was supposed to be a sun-kissed paradise island, I thought.
As dawn broke, the fury outside continued and my fears were replaced with a new dilemma. How was I supposed to shower in my al fresco bathroom?
Wondering what to do, I surveyed my Octopussy 2 honeymoon suite. Simple, chic and rustic, it was dominated by a huge double bed head overlooked by a dramatic lilac headboard inlaid in sunken bottles, around which curved apple-green walls.
It was one of 23 individually designed cottages at Jake's, a boutique property on Treasure Beach three hours by road from the capital, Kingston.
Unlike better-known, sophisticated resorts such as Montego Bay and Negril fringed by sweeping white sand beaches, Treasure Beach is cloaked by black, sandy bays and a more rugged coastline. Small farming and fishing communities dot the region. Jake's seclusion is ideal for holidaymakers seeking off-the-beaten-track charms – and privacy. Guests have included Robbie Williams and Kate Moss.
A decade had passed since my first visit to Jake's. The pastel-coloured cottages, intimate setting and personal, friendly service had cast a spell on me – and I'd vowed to return.
But now I was here, my dreams of lapping up the sun on my roof terrace and sipping a cold rum on my private deck were disappearing faster than the storm outside.
Peeking through the slats of my shuttered windows at the rain-drenched patio, I realised I still had a wait on my hands.
Three hours later, during a brief break in the storm, I jumped into my open-air bathroom and showered under wind-driven horizontal spray while blinking through shampoo-stung eyes at a wave-battered shoreline.
It was another 24 hours before the weather finally cleared – and I was able to appreciate fully my surroundings.
Strung out along a rocky shore, the property lacks its own decent beach but is within easy walking distance of four different bays. Jack Sprat's beach – which lends its name to an excellent nearby pizzeria and seafood restaurant – was minutes away from my cottage.
Otherwise, guests can enjoy a dip in Jake's sunken saltwater pool, watch DVDs or play Scrabble in the games room, enjoy massages, kayaking, walking, snorkelling, fishing and biking. Next year, a new seafront spa, yoga deck and infinity pool are planned.
One of the highlights of my stay was tucking into Jake's daily changing menu. At breakfast, I feasted on fresh fruit bowls of banana, melon, papaya and pineapple, accompanied by toast spread with zingy home-made ginger pepper jam, while at night I devoured giant lobster tails and curried crab.
For tourists wishing to explore beyond Jake's, there are several possible day trips. A visit to YS Falls and Appleton Rum Factory are among the most popular excursions.
Lover's Leap, a 1,700ft-high, cliff-top lookout named after two inseparable slaves who flung themselves on to the rocks because of their forbidden love, was disappointingly unremarkable. The viewpoint seemed little more than an excuse to extract dollars from tourists at the adjoining restaurant.
Far better was the trip to Little Ochie's at Alligator Pond, a restaurant consisting of basic, thatch-covered canoes overlooking a beach where fishermen unloaded their day's catch.
Although the beach wasn't inspiring, the seafood certainly was. From a mouth-watering choice which included steamed snapper, jerk crab, peppered shrimp and conch soup, I dined on freshly grilled lobster – it was becoming a daily addiction – accompanied by golden balls of fried, sweetened cornmeal. Sensational.
Wildlife lovers should consider the Black River croc-hunting safari, an over-ambitious term to describe a gentle, hour-long cruise through a sprawling wetlands area which is home to more than 100 bird species and around 300 crocodiles.
Our guide, Marshall, warned us that clapping eyes on one of these protected reptiles was not guaranteed – but no sooner had our boat departed from the bank than we spotted a slack-jawed, leathery green predator baring its impressive, razor-sharp teeth as it basked in the sun.
Philip – as he was apparently called – was so still that he could almost have passed for a stuffed toy, but I wasn't bothered about getting closer to test his pulse.
George Junior and Josephine, on the other hand, were very definitely the genuine articles as they slid silently toward our boat as we glided past mangroves, reeds, towering palms and roosting egrets.
Back at Jake's, the sun was setting as we whizzed off by speedboat to Pelican's Bar, a wooden, stilted watering hole built on a submerged sandbar less than one mile from the shore.
Despite the excessive US$35 transfer charge, the unique setting, combined with the fact we spotted a pair of dolphins on our return, made the cost easier to swallow.
Later that night, after an evening of rum-drinking in a local snooker hall and the Wild Onion nightclub, I returned to my cottage and finally got the chance to relax under a beautiful star-spangled sky on my private verandah.
Admittedly, the sun had been sorely absent on my trip to Jamaica but, 10 years after my first-ever visit, I was still firmly bewitched by Jake's magical spell.
