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A few years ago, I returned to Jamaica, on a leisurely expedition, which included scuba diving in pure, turquoise, body temperature water, with tropical fish, conch and sea vegetation, swaying gently by beautifully pristine octal reefs or the fish condominiums sunken ancient ships and coral reefs to complete the perfection of our experience. We went horseback riding on the beach, taking in the vista of the 240 year old, Georgian port, its historical English Colonial architecture, which harkens back to the early 19th century, then returning to the beach, to checking out nature at its best. The next day's plan was to visit the Dunn River Falls, and since we were on horseback we could take in a lot of scenery, mostly unreachable by car, too long and strenuous on foot .We followed the spectacular, 600 feet tall, Dunn River Falls, and saw where it exited into the ocean, in a place aptly named Dolphin Cove. It was actually was filled with dolphins, playing like gregarious pups, in the blue-green water. I wanted it to be tomorrow, so I could join them. Amazing!
It was the last vacation I spent with my husband, who passed away shortly thereafter, of untreatable Stage four Lung Cancer. When he was diagnosed and died two years later, leaving behind many thousands of TV and Radio fans, and a family in a state of disbelief. He was much too young to leave, but the frolicking as he picked me up like a feather, when I became too tired to on the climb up the falls. Or his graceful long body, gliding confidently, as if he was born a sea creature (two hours of training at the hotel's pool was all the experience he had, up until December 2007). It was I, with my scuba diving certificate since my Bat Mitzva, who needed to be reassured by the diving Master, who indeed, never let go of my hand, while Johnny swam confidently.
I was proud and embarrassed, proud of him and a bit embarrassed for my own klutziness. But the memory which prevailed, is the sight of his healthy, young body, gliding through the water
All this is personal and may not be of interest to my readers: yet somehow it belongs in the story, since I suspect everyone who'll experience Jamaica, will have some kind of compellingly, unforgettable experience, no matter what they choose to do
On top of all this, there are romantic rides on the Martha Brae River, aboard 30 foot long bamboo rafts. This is a most relaxed way to get around, taking in the scenery, as are the horse and buggy rides for those who'd rather not take on riding a horse. Or you could just meander through the shops and marketplaces of this exciting town, which is known as the best preserved historic Gregorian town in the Caribbean's.
Situated between the world famous tourist resorts of Ocho Rios on the east and Montego Bay on the west.
The Good Hope Great House is an old mansion, possessing Old World elegance barely different from the grandeur of the sugar plant estate it was over 200 years ago: an exquisite, grand home, which must be seen.
I am actually bubbling with excitement, because the trip I booked on my favourite ship, The Allure of the Seas, is about to stop at this incredible port for most of Wednesday, the 27th of January: 10:30-7:00 p.m.
If I plan ahead, carefully, I can revisit most of my magic spots.  True I may not have the time to climb all of the 600 feet of the Falls, nor the longest scuba diving expedition. I'll be happy with a sample and the town is still there, in all its glory.
There is so much to see, a jungle which holds surprises, such as f exotic birds and iguanas, history, nature fun and beauty.
There are about 9 hours to choose any activities, whatever floats your boat (forgive the pun).
I want a little bit of everything, a taste of everything I can grab. And leave a bouquet for Johnny.
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