Hedonism II in Jamaica. The party destination for adults looking to take a walk on the wild side. World famous for nude beaches, free booze and wild overnight parties. A must see destination for couples looking to experiment away from the prying eyes of civilization.
Sherry and I went there oh so many years ago. So long ago that Hedonism wasn't famous (or infamous) yet. A travel agent told me it was an all-inclusive beach resort that included hard alcohol and a beach where you could swim without clothes if you wanted. (This last part made her blush.) Oh, and no kids allowed, which for people that worked for a national park would be the big selling point. (We tended to see kids at their worst – either excited or tired and always loud and out of control.)
I had a big bonus at work and was looking to really do something big, so I booked the tickets based on the limited information I had. We had booked vacations with less info that than and had a good time.
I guess I should explain that this was well before you could look up just about anything using Google - which wouldn't even become a company for another dozen years or so.
We didn't have internet in our cabin anyway and very few homes did. We knew that the food, drink, etc. would all be inside the resort and our past experience with all inclusives was that we didn't ever leave the property because there was so much going on. so we didn't buy any of those guidebooks to Jamaica or anything. We just went.
When the time came we packed our bags with the same vacation clothes we had taken to Hawaii and Cabo and jumped the flight east towards the Caribbean with an overnight layover in Florida. The next morning at 7AM, we got on our connector flight from Miami to Jamaica.
Everyone on the flight – literally everyone – was going to "Hedo." Just about all couples and a lot of them seemed to be very good friends. We figured perhaps there was a business convention at the hotel or something and didn't think anything of it, but it was a loud boisterous group so we figured it was going to be fun anyway. The flight was loud and everyone was drinking. It wasn't a long one trip and we never had a chance to get bored.
I had been in 3rd world airports before but nothing at all like the sheer pandemonium of the exit from customs/immigration gate in Jamaica. The inevitable people promising tours, offering condos, and generally looking to find a way to get dollars from tourists were there in abundance, and we only got where we needed to be by following the crowds of people that we recognized from the plane.
I will always remember there was a rasta man sitting among the peddlers, taxi cab drivers etc and he had a sign advertising a tour to "See the pot fields." Right above his head was a sign saying that possession of any controlled substance was a mandatory prison term in Jamaica. I wish I'd taken a picture, because that single photo pretty much sums up Jamaica at the time in a nutshell.
The ride to the resort was a rickety old bus and it was hard to figure out whether the passengers or driver had a better buzz. Sherry was horrified and scared the whole bus trip – the roads were narrow, pockmarked and at places next to steep ravines and cliffs. We badly needed a drink when we got to the resort. One was delivered to us as we waited in line to check in which made things better.
The woman at the desk was so happy and delightful. Just a bundle of joy, providing a first good impression after a long journey. We got through check in and I asked her for directions to the business center. She looked at me like she had no idea what I was talking about. (This was before Jamaica had cell phone service to the states and you could do just about anything on the little devices.)
I tried to clarify, explaining that I needed a place to do business and call my office.
"You can call America from up here but you doing business you going about this all wrroonggg!"
She laughed, and gathered high fives from a few bystanders, and handed me two keys.
"Go take a right down at da sign and you and come up later if you still want to call your aw-fisss. Y'all go have a good time."
We had been dismissed and she was showering her love and attention on the next couple before we could get out of the way..
The check-in desk was at the top of the property and the walk down the hill took us closer to the beaches and "da sign." It was a simple one that said "Nude" and "Prude" with arrows to the right and left. We were told to go right – the nude side.
That was perhaps our first real clue of what we had gotten ourselves into. Sherry and I shared a look. She took a picture of me next to the sign and gave me a wink and we were off again.
Clusters of 70's style duplexes blocked the view of the beach. They looked kind of like summer cabins at the camp I used to go as a kid. As we got close to an open window on one I smelled the unmistakable stench of marijuana. Again, just like summer camp. (I've been told that Hedo has changed out of the condos and now has a more of a standard hotel accommodations, but this was then.)
We entered our room from the door which was located on the side of the duplex away from the beach. The location was close enough that we would probably be right on the beach, and Sherry wondered if perhaps the sound of the people on the beach might be distracting.
Inside we found a room that was serviceable but a bit Spartan. A big bed, small closet, your basic bathroom with a shower and that was pretty much it. No tv. No alarm clock. What it did have that was interesting was mirrors on the ceiling and all around the bed. Sherry noticed this before I did, jumped onto the bed and glanced up at what the view would be and laughed. It was so sleazy that it was just amusing.
The curtains out to the beach view were closed, and so Sherry opened them and immediately stopped cold and let out a small gasp. I was peeing so while I heard the opening curtains and the gasp, it took me a few shakes to get out there to see what was up.
We were very close to the water. The water line was maybe 30 yards away. A gorgeous beach with small waves and a giant bowl shaped inlet beyond. Picturesque. Just perfect.
In between our window and the water, though, were perhaps 40 people lying around naked sunning themselves. Another dozen were busy "finger painting" each others private parts with brightly colored paints. Everywhere we looked it was boobs, asses and genitalia. We actually recognized a few people who had been on the flight and were already bare-ass playing in the sand.
I was afraid Sherry wouldn't like it as it was not quite the romantic tropical scene we'd been expecting, but she giggled and I knew it would be okay. We watched the parade of skin for maybe 5 minutes without another word and I think we were finally overwhelmed by it all. Sherry closed the curtains again.
"Honey, think we overpacked."
"I think we need a drink."
"Yeah, that's the answer. Let's do that."
We did a bit of unpacking and applied a sunscreen to our faces then ventured out to the bar area at the center of the island. We learned from a small pamphlet in the room that there that this was a "neutral zone" on the island between the nude and prude sides where most services could be found.
We drank. Rot gut liquor - definitely not top shelf – but we managed to put the first one down in a hurry and it was strong enough that we didn't mind the aftertaste on the second.
"So, you know about this? That it was like this?"
"Promise. Didn't. I thought Club Med."