DaCosta Farms Splash Park is SO COOL, especially in the summer heat!

With my adrenaline running on overload recently, it was a relief to find myself truly relaxing on Friday.  The mere 20 minutes’ drive from Kingston makes it even more appealing, amidst a summer full of driving from one side of the country to the other, on countless days.

Easy to find, due to clear sign-posting once you take the first exit, towards Spanish Town, off our Kingston to May Pen highway, DaCosta Farms is an oasis among the otherwise dry terrain in the plains of St. Catherine.

The kids jumped out of the cars as soon as we arrived, eager to get started on the fishing. Dave DaCosta, the owner of DaCosta Farms, has set up his site in a cohesive way.  Firstly, the fishing, where guests have the choice between catching the fish to take home or for the chef to cook there, or they may catch and release them back into the pond so the fish have a chance to continue to grow bigger, resulting in lunch for another guest down the line!  Don’t panic, there’s generally fish, shrimp and chicken on the lunch menu in case you aren’t reeling in your own meal!

While waiting the short time for Prenta to get the bait ready, the children may play on the charming playground, while you start on some libations at the outdoor bar that’s situated within eyeshot of the little ones.  In fact, when it’s time to fish, Prenta will take care of the kids’ handling of the rods so you won’t have to worry about your spawn hurting themselves on hooks.  Of course, when you’re ready to try your hand at fishing, Prenta will be happy to assist you as well.

Fishing is not the only activity available at DaCosta Farms, as paint balling on their “combat field” will surely give your rascals the excitement they need and perhaps what you need too!  For those of you who might have dirt bikes and safety gear, DaCosta offers an equally safe course, which you may use.

The highlight for us on Friday was the Splash Park playground and pool that’s conveniently adjacent to the outdoor restaurant area.  Manned by a guard at the entrance gate and by an equally efficient and obliging lifeguard, it allows the adults time to continue with their said libations.  However, it didn’t take long for the adults to get trapped into standing under the buckets of water and running through the sprays that were coming out of the circular bars, both of which were clearly designed for the enjoyment of children, yet quite easily brought out the kid in each of us.  #DaCostaFarms #TREMbleinFlipFlops

Catch n Release

Paint Ball ‘Combat Field’

The circle of life…..

Romping in the shallow pool

The kid in each of us….

Who’s a Pretty Parrot?

A zoom-in view from the chairlift

I didn’t know what to expect when we walked from my truck to the front ticket office of Rainforest Adventures’ Mystic Mountain in Ocho Rios.  Actually, I thought I knew what to expect – we could settle ourselves and then decide who, out of the the six of us, would do what and when we should do it.  I felt peaceful, taking in the tropical flora that enveloped us and noticing the lapping of the water in the river.  This was going to be a low-key, relaxing day.  Of course I was aware of there being a bobsled ride and zip line, but that was only two activities, so I would be able to chill by the pool with my touring partner, while the kids went on the waterslide, for most of the day.

Was I ever wrong about the ‘boring’ day I had planned in my head!  Ushered towards a chairlift, exactly like one you’d find in a ski resort, my first impression was how cool! With my kids sitting with me and Trish together with her two, I took out my iPad to make a video.  As we proceeded up the mountain, the chairlift took us exponentially further from the ground below.  I have never been afraid of heights, but that might have changed now.  When did this happen?  I skydived 22 years ago!  Not that I would do that again, btw!  But, I learned how to drive an ATV and Segway earlier this week.  Mind you, those were ON THE GROUND.

To say that I was freaking out, as my children’s feet dangled in mid-air, is an understatement.  I sat there conjuring up a contingency plan for the worst possible scenario.  My shoulders were stiff, my legs were like led and my feet were tense – you know, like when the gym instructor tells you to flex your feet!  I looked to my right – the 4 year old was having a whale of a time.  I turned to my left – the 8 year old was equally excited to be floating in the air in a chair, overlooking quite an awesome coastline.  I wasn’t sure if the wind was knocked out of me because of my utter fear or if it was due to the seriously breathtaking view.  Not to mention the fact that we were hovering over the lush tropical rainforest.

Landing safely at the top of the mountain, I realized why you couldn’t see Mystic Mountain from anywhere down below on the road.  The effort to construct this adventure park this high up could not have been a small feat.  It became even more apparent as we whizzed (okay, I didn’t exactly whiz, but everyone else did!) through the trees on the bobsled, which is essentially a personal rollercoaster as you get to control its speed.  I bet you’ve never been on a rollercoaster that takes you through beautiful rainforest.

Speaking of stunning forests, the infinity pool, where Trish and I did get to sit for a couple hours in the afternoon, while the kids glided joyfully down the slide, seemed to fall into the cascading mountain of foliage and straight into the Caribbean Sea.  In the background, we could hear the upbeat rhythms of the drummers coming from the front courtyard, where guests gathered to watch them and the dancers perform all day.

A major highlight at Mystic Mountain is the zip line.  Certainly, it seems a bit scary to be traversing on a cable through trees, but the safety harnesses and guides will absolutely alleviate any trepidation you might have.  The only suggestion I would make to those of you who wish to play Tarzan and Jane, which you should do by the way, is save the zip line to the very end of your day as it takes you halfway down the mountain.  In order to return to the top, where the waterslide, bobsled, restaurant, bar and gift shop are, you must take the chairlift all the way to the bottom and then back up the same way you came at the start of the day.  Of course, for those of you who do wish to take chairlift numerous times, this advice is not applicable to you.  Neither was it applicable to me!

This brings me to a small confession.  I did not do the zip line.  This was not because I was afraid for myself, though I was petrified at the thought of traveling on the chairlift more than was necessary, but it was because of my little one, the 4 year old.  When I heard the cry of complete fright for his life, as he hung from the cable for the first time, my instinct to keep my kids away from danger kicked in, even though neither of them were even close to being in harm’s way at any part of the day. #MysticMountain #RainforestAdventures #TREMbleinFlipFlops

The kids are excited!

His smile: HAPPY; My smile: FEAR

View from the chairlift

I’m still faking it, while he is totally fine!

The big boys, who went super fast on the bobsled

The not-so-speedy crew

Preparing for zip line

Very Happy!

The Slide is FUN!

Look at this view

I’m the mother of two children, worse yet, I didn’t start having kids until my mid-thirties.  “So what?” You might ask.  I’ll tell you what, it makes you a nervous wreck rearing a 4 year old and an 8 year old in your forties, sons, no less!  It doesn’t help that my husband is 50 going on 15 in the energy-level department.

I was fairly cautious when I was a kid, never putting myself in extreme danger for the sake of some kind of thrill-seeking adventure.  That said, I camped out and climbed Blue Mountain Peak, I water-skied and snow-skied, played cricket, field hockey and lacrosse, and was always the first in my family to be up for finding a new nook to visit on my beautiful island.  All of these activities were executed after having carefully calculated the probability of anything bad occurring.  There was no chance I would be trying flips in water-skis, off-piste terrain on snow-skis, the Irish sport of hurling or climbing a mountain like Kilimanjaro.  The two most daring things I ever did were riding a ridiculous rollercoaster in the UK and skydiving in Australia, both in my very late teens.  I came right out of my comfort zone for a short time and happily climbed right back in!

So, yesterday, when my extended family and I visited Yaaman Adventure Park in Ocho Rios, I was very weary of some of the activities they have on offer.  Like I said, I’m a mummy, which comes with a whole lot of worry when it comes to motorized sports.  The full package of tours at Yaaman Adventure Park is designed to suit the entire family, but I must admit that the idea of my sons operating a Segway, especially on declines, traveling in a speedy ATV and even riding a horse on their own, was quite discomforting.  As it was, maneuovering the Segway and ATV myself was disturbing.

When we arrived, I didn’t realise what the whole day would actually entail, so when we started off on the Jitney tour around the Prospect property, with Donovan as our guide, I was very relaxed.  He shared some history of the families who have owned Prospect, including the legacy left by the last resident, which is that he set up a trust whereby 36 boys, ages 14-16, from under-privileged communities, attend the school on site at no cost to themselves nor their families.  He took us to meet a man who could climb a coconut tree with the ease of someone walking 3 yards, then to assist Chef Irie in a most eloquent and easy cooking class that managed to engage everyone from the 4 year old to the over forties club.  This day was perfect.  Nothing could top this.  I was in my element.

HA!  Not for much longer…..as the next thing on the agenda was the Segway.  Say what?  No, no, no.  Are you crazy?  How are my boys going to manage that?  How am I going to manage that?  Even Trish, who is not such a worry-wort like myself, had some trepidation over driving this two-wheeled vehicle.  There was slight relief when I was told that the little one couldn’t do it, but that was reneged when he hopped on an ATV with the 18 year old intern, Cruz, hired to take photographs for Yaaman Adventure Park.  It turns out, btw, I had nothing to fret over.  Safety is taken extremely seriously in this place!  As for the Segway?  Surprisingly, one has a lot more control of this rather bizarre mode of transport and it is not difficult to execute its operation.  The dichotomy of this part of the tour was ‘driving’ it to take a camel ride.  It was like being a time machine.  The truth is, having discovered that the level of danger of a Segway is minimal, yet the ride is exhilarating, Trish and I now see the appeal of such a machine.

Just when the six of us thought the day couldn’t get any better, we climbed on the backs of horses – Tony, Pretty Girl, Storm, Fidel, Vodka and Hennessy.  Yes, the latter two were the names of horses, not libations Trish and I were consuming to calm our nerves!  Anyway, once again, I was faced with fear for the safety of my children.  Sure, we were all in helmets, as was the case with the Segway, but that doesn’t protect your neck if you’re thrown off the animal!  Seriously?! What is wrong with me???  The thing is, I had absolutely nothing to worry about.  Our guide Eldon was not about to let a damn thing happen to any of us.  He led the little one, helped the bigger kids when their horses wouldn’t budge and, most importantly, eleviated the panic of this here helicopter mama!

The day culminated with the lengthy, phenomenal and well-worth-it All-Terrain-Vehicle tour, or as my baby called it “The Moon Buggy Ride”, whereby anyone with a valid driver’s license is allowed to drive themselves.  Wonderful, I can be in control.  But wait, I’ve been watching other people on these ATVs all day.  They go fast.  They go fast over extremely bumpy mud/dirt tracks and we have to drive through water.  I have to drive one.  My kids have to travel in one.  I have two kids and only one can ride with me.  The 8 year old jumped at the choice to be with me, leaving me wondering what would happen to my baby, but of course he wanted to travel with Cruz, which was a relief as I knew that Cruz would keep him safe.  In fact, our guide Kevin and the entire crew at Yaaman Adventure Park don’t mess around when it comes to the safety of every single person.  So, off we all set, driving head first out of my comfort zone, quite comfortably.  #yaamanadventurepark #TREMbleinFlipFlops

Overlooking Ocho Rios

Coconut with brown sugar

Heading to the Great House on the Prospect property

Jerk Chicken, Coconut Sauce, Seasoned Callaloo, Festival & Rice – all homemade by us, assisted by Chef Irie – ABSOLUTELY delicious!

First Segway Ride……our faces say it all!

Family Bonds

My friends are aware that when I say, “Heh, let’s take a trip to……”, I may or may not know exactly where I am going, it may or may not be by way of a decent main road and it may take an hour to get there or it may take longer.  However, we will definitely find the place, we will definitely love it, our kids will definitely have a fabulous time and I will definitely make sure that we bring food and libations!

As the summer holidays are upon us, the adventure seeking gets turned up a notch, especially as three family members are always back during the summer and they become my sons’ and my touring partners.

There are a lot of weeks to cover with two boys who are 8 and 4.  That being said, the first two weeks are always taken care of by some camp or other.  As of the end of this week, I shall be left with 7 1/2 weeks…..what to do?

Emma’s adventures of Summer 2017 were kick-started by a River Lime at Mount Charles.  My husband and I discovered it a couple weeks previously, thanks to Toyota Jamaica’s 4WD Day Out.  Our boys fell in love with the jumping into the water from the high rocks, I fell in love with sitting in my deckchair in the river itself and it only took one hour to drive from Kingston, so I sent photos to some of my friends immediately and plans were put into place to visit again very soon.

Last Sunday, we met at the bottom of Skyline Drive, top end of Papine.  The drive should only have taken an hour, but……let’s just say that one of the four vehicles in our convoy was rather slow.  I found this strange, mind you, as said driver is usually the first person to pump the pedal.  I don’t know if it’s because he was genuinely concerned about the bottom of his new car scraping the not-so-even-road or if it was some deep-rooted protest against his wife getting him out of his man-den on a Sunday, his one day of rest!  I say we blame the Trini families whom he and I married into!!!  If in doubt, never the fault of us Jamaicans, always the fault of the Trinis!

Anyway, on the way, I get a message from another friend – she and her family asking for directions to one of my secret adventure destinations.  I forgo the information, kindly but hesitantly.  FYI, in my heart, these places belong to ME and should only be visited with me!!!  Believing, rightly so, that actually it would be more fun for the seven of them to join us, I persuade them to change their plans and meet us at the river in Mount Charles instead.  Apparently there were a few rolling of eyes in her car and comments about Aunty Emma’s road trips always taking them to somewhere in the back of beyond!  That’s where the beauty lies, kiddo!

It seems there was another discussion of persuasion going on at the same time in one of the other cars, because before we knew it, we had gone from 19 of us setting out in 4 vehicles to 28 of us arriving in 6 vehicles.  Coolers of rum punch, beer, chicken pelau, KFC chicken, mac n cheese, banana muffins, chocolate biscuit cake…..you name it, we brought it and we ate it!  Oh, let’s not forget my homemade marshmallows toasting in the flames that my wannabe-Survivor-Reality-Show-Contestant husband and the 11 boy children fired up.

Yes, 11 boy children between the ages of 4 and 17……need I say more about the antics of the day or the fact that pulling these boys away from the river at the end of the afternoon was a feat in itself?  Not that any of the grownups wanted to leave either.  It’s hard work picking your deckchair up out of a fresh, crystal clear river and heading home to the reality of Monday morning, only a short 12 hours away.

I have recently started a YouTube channel – Emma Sharp Dalton-Brown (Jamaica Emma) – where I have been posting videos of poems that I have written and problems/issues that people are faced with each day.  The poems are, so far, based on serious topics – sexual abuse, domestic abuse, bullying, prejudices, etc.  The other issues are, so-far, husband-related – you know, the typical male behaviour that goes on in your house – light-hearted jabs at an otherwise lovely husband.

A problem has arisen from the latter, unfortunately, as one man, whom I know, accosted me yesterday at a theatre to tell me off, as if I were some insolent child, for my posts.  Picture a man approaching me…..I, of course, think he’s coming to hug/kiss me hello, so I reciprocate with a hug and cheek to cheek ‘kiss’.  The thing is I read it all wrong…..as I discovered within seconds.  This man in question was not coming to offer me polite pleasantries!  He wanted to know if and how my husband was putting up with my YouTube video logs that were about him!

Taken aback by his brazen accusation and assumption that my husband has a proverbial wooden stick up his @$$ and is unable to laugh with me, I told him that my husband has a good sense of humour.  So, said man would not accept this as a suitable answer and persisted with his complaints about my actions, to which I replied, AGAIN, that MY husband has an excellent sense of humour and actually finds my posts about him funny.  Well, that shut the man up, as he turned, scuttled out of the row of theatre seats and trotted down to his own row.

The truth is, I don’t like to upset people.  Really, I don’t.  However, I am equally going to stand up for my freedom to speak out on issues, my freedom to express when I am exasperated by a situation, my freedom to have a laugh and my freedom to post videos on my YouTube channel.  As I am a sensitive person, one who empathizes with others and hates to hurt anyone, my posts will not be malicious.  Anything you see will be in support of a cause or will have a humourous aspect.  For those of you who are concerned about my husband’s dear heart.  He can handle it.  He dishes out more than he gets, trust me!!

Thank you for your concern, but we are truly fine 😉  My husband is a honey, most of the time……but this does not mean that I am going to, overnight, be alright with his typical man-blindness or man-oblivion.  I am a woman, it’s exasperating and I will continue to make some of you laugh.  I can’t please you all….sorry, not sorry.

‘You’re looking fabulous.’; ‘You’re looking so well.’; ‘Great to see you looking better.’; ‘Your skin looks amazing.’

You’d think that hearing these words would make me happy.  In the past, they did.  Now, not so much.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate the intended kindness, because I do.  However, in my case, the tightening of my skin is far from a desired feature of my physical being.  Wait, what?  What did Emma just say?  Do you know how much money people pay to achieve the look that Emma is slowly gaining, naturally?

The skin on my legs, particularly on the stretch below my knees, is so tight that it has a shiny and young appearance, like I’ve been well moisturized.  My legs themselves are swollen when they get even slightly too hot or too cold, making my otherwise scrawny limbs look marginally better from the illusion of there being a bit more muscle on my calves and quads.  My face is losing those lines I gained from life and a longstanding period of another autoimmune disease (Neuro-Behcets) that has intermittently run me physically ragged for over twenty years (I won’t get into those details now).  In fact, most of the skin on my body appears younger.  I don’t need the airbrush to erase the wrinkles.

Don’t be fooled.  You can still tell I’m in my forties, or as one teenager told me six months ago, ‘You’re like fiftaaay!’  No, that would be my husband! (Though he doesn’t look fiftaaay either!) Unfortunately, the disease I have developed does not lift the fleshy parts that one would want lifted, which is a dead giveaway to one’s age.  My age, however, is not the point.

If you look closely at my hands and my feet, you will see that the skin has tightened so much that cracks have formed on the tips of my toes, heels and fingers, resulting in digital ulcers that appear faster than it takes to prevent them.  Digital infarction is a bitch!  All that’s needed is a simple graze of one’s nail, a mosquito bite, a soft bump, the smallest of burns, the opening of a water bottle, and a painful ulcer appears.  As for the younger looking legs.  When you take a closer look, you will see the variation in the colours of said skin.  If you focus on my mouth, the furrowing that started a little over a year ago has worsened.  Ask me to go ‘Aaaaaah,’ like a dentist or doctor asks, and my proverbial big mouth only opens 2 inches wide.  Oh, the irony for someone as talkative as I am!

I am physically uncomfortable most of the time – my skin, my muscles, my hips, my hands, my feet, my face.  My small blood vessels are damaged and I am producing way more collagen than I should.  However, I do believe that I inherited some seriously happy hormones from my parents, because the discomfort never brings me down for even as long as one day.  That said, I would still take feeling good and being healthy over looking good, any day of the year.  You see, what’s happening on the outside of my body is also happening on the inside.  I have systemic scleroderma, otherwise known as the disease that turns you to stone.

Source: Unconditional Support of Women, No Matter What You Choose To Wear

Man, Oh, Man.  That Man, Oh, Man.

Ladies,

Would you stand up for me through the assault of a retch?  Would you always, no matter what, help to save me from a letch?  Would you save my vagina if I wore a dress with a gape?  Would you save my vagina if I wore an outfit made of black tape?

I have recently been party to a pretty intense discussion about whether women who wear certain attire are contributing to the problem of women being sexually harassed, molested, assaulted, abused – however you want to phrase it.

In my opinion, there is no grey area in this matter.

I have had countless women and young girls relate stories to me about the times they have been victims of these heinous acts.  Every single one of these stories involved a fully and conservatively dressed woman, many times within the work place and at school.  Yes, you read correctly, school girls.  Not dolled up in next to nothing for Carnival day, mind you, but in an A-line school uniform with a neck tie.

The reality is, women who have the confidence to dance around the streets in G-string bikinis, nipple tattoos,  glitter and feathers – these women are not likely to be assaulted when they are dressed this way.  The lecherous and violent men do not have the balls to approach these women.  They go for someone whom they feel they can control, have power over.  They are not about to go to the club, where the women don black-tape outfits, and try a damn thing, because these men are cowards.  These men try their luck in situations whereby the women might not want to make a fuss, cause embarrassment, etcetera.  Polite Places like work, school, a wedding, an intimate dinner party, a private beach club – that sort of place.  Why would a well brought-up woman or girl make a scene in such a situation?  She’s way too polite for that.

The truth is, rape has been happening for centuries, and I mean centuries.  As a friend put it well to me the other day, “Thousands of years ago, women wearing clothes akin to curtains were raped.  It’s got nothing to do with the skimpy clothes women might choose to wear now.”  How right is that.  There is absolutely no evidence to substantiate the claim that the problem of sexual abuse of women lies within the black-tape fashion, or any other scantily-clad fashion!

Woman, Oh, Woman.  That Woman, Oh, Woman.

I will stand up for you through the assault of a retch and I will always, no matter what, help to save you from a letch.  I will save your vagina if you wear a dress with a gape and I will save your vagina if you wear an outfit made of black tape.

My support for women against any kind of sexual abuse is not conditional.  It is unconditional.

Jamaicans, on a whole, strive to be modern, I would say.  We want and use all the modern ‘gadgets’ on offer, including social media.  We dislike when foreigners think that we are a backward set of people who live in tree houses.  We hate that foreign news presenters often present Jamaica as dangerous.  We want to be acknowledged and recognized by the world for our successes in businesses and in all other aspects.

Don’t get me wrong, we are a nation with plenty of talent, a nation with citizens who are hard-working and successful, a nation that boasts about being proud of our country.  However, as a nation, do we deserve the respect that we demand?

Look at what is happening to people in our nation.  Some pull out their handguns and shoot up in the air to celebrate special events; some bribe law enforcers to avoid traffic/speeding tickets; some kill their neighbours over a drug run gone wrong; some lead and fund drug runs; some bribe to procure business; some threaten witnesses to crime; some threaten victims who would ordinarily be protected by the law; some molest children; some sexually harass, molest and rape women; some scam their fellow citizens for their own financial gain; some use their social and/or economic status/position to take advantage of others, in all forms, yet would frown upon the same behaviour of those they believe to be ‘below’ them.  This list could go on.

When did Jamaica become so uncivilized?  Why has Jamaica become so uncivilized?  Is it because we have slowly been making allowances for this behaviour?  Are we using excuses like “Well, they do it, so why shouldn’t I?”  or “I should allow for them to do it, because I did something as bad.”?  Is the law not protecting our civil needs and rights?  Why isn’t the law protecting our civil needs and rights?  Are we afraid of the consequences that might occur if we stand up, speak up and demand better?  What exactly are those consequences and why are we afraid of them?

Way back, many centuries ago, as any country’s population grew from a few to many, there came the need for rules.  Laws of that particular country were formed and those who did not abide by said laws were appropriately punished.  This has not changed.  There came a need for civilization way back when and there is still a need for civilization now.  Yet, from where I sit, I see that Jamaica is moving backwards and becoming a set of uncivilized people.  Where has our civilization gone?