Yangshuo, China: The Best Boat Ride, Pretty Landscape, and Adventures in the Townby Randi / August 20, 2017
August 9-10
Dear little baby laptop diary,
Dear little baby laptop diary,
Today, August 9, is our third year anniversary! No not you I don’t even know you! Z and I got married three years ago today! Yay for us! Happy anniversary! Unfortunately, our meticulous schedule has us departing on a 26-hour train today,from Guilin (we had to get a car back there from Yangshuo for the station) to Chengdu. Not the most typical way to celebrate the occasion, but we are on an adventure. Because of this special day – but really because the last few trains have been abysmal experiences – we booked out the entire cabin for the first time. The ticket booker we used said they buy the other beds very often for people who want it to themselves, and they buy the other two beds as children’s tickets (so they cost less), for fake children. Or, as we were hysterical to see the agents refer to them as, “ghost children”. They book the kids’ tickets under fake names, so we were excited to see what fun Chinese names our fake children got.
The tickets are issued to both of our full names plus “Junior”. Of course. But still funny!
Let’s hope this actually works and they don’t try to resell the two beds in here, because guess what guys, this train most resembles the last shitshow, to Guilin (when we 2 extra bodies (children) (not the ghost kind)), but it is EVEN WORSE. It’s like someone said, “Give me the oldest train carriages you have for this route and let me make it even shittier!” I know every single time I’m like, hey baby laptop, this train is EVEN WORSE than the last one, and the people reading are probably rolling their eyes like how is that possible, but somehow it really is the worst yet. Since that gorgeous St. Petey to Moscow special sleeper, we’ve gone slowly down the ladder of quality and cleanliness, with few exceptions on the straight slope down. I read my old diary entries on our early Russian Trans-Siberian trains and want to punch myself in the face for thinking that wasn’t the height of luxury and being such a brat about it. (We have to go back through Russia to enter Europe from the ‘stans later so I’m actually excited to sleep on a Russian train again. I KNOW.) Nothing in here has been cleaned since I don’t know the previous dynasty. The walls are stained to a brownish mix of age, dirt, and who knows what else; the sheets are stained and full of stranger hair; it reeks of smoke – which is usual, but it also reeks of something mixed with smoke. We can’t pinpoint the specific stench, but it is NOT PLEASANT. I believe it’s the smell you get when decades and decades of Chinese people sleep, live, and eat weird smelling food in tiny compartments that never get cleaned. It’s pretty bad. It’s also freezing – the air is on super high and we can’t control it – so we are shibbering, and icked out. I mean just look, even one of the nets on the wall has lost the will to live:
it’s like the hallway from The Shining
oh man I can still smell it
The toilets are insane. Similar to the last train (when I shared pictures; you’re welcome) but dirtier, ickier. And the sink room is the same, except for one crucial difference – a pipe is broken, apparently, because the water drains…out onto the floor from below. Like, the used dirty sink water is just draining through the sinkhole and onto the floor. Including water spat out from tooth brushing. So if you want to use the sink WHICH I DO, you need to watch the water level on the floor so it doesn’t pass your shoes and touch skin ahhhhh ewwwww.
I can’t imagine what this would be like with other people in here and I hope I don’t have to.
Since we had to drive from Yangshuo back to Guilin to catch this 12:30pm ish train, we left at 9:30am ish today to begin our journey, and we are supposed to arrive in Chengdu at 2pm tomorrow. So, we needed an entire day’s worth of food for today plus half a day’s for tomorrow. I had a crapload of leftovers from dinner at Lotus Vegetarian in Yangshuo town last night, three containers actually! So I brought those to eat. Of course, takeout containers in China have been laughable, and the chinese food juice leaked all over the plastic bag it came in, the bigger plastic bag I thought would keep it ‘extra safe’, and my beloved reusable tote that I carried the food in. I have to wash that. So gross. Everything somehow smells like stinky tofu. This whole country smells like stinky tofu. Maybe it’s just stuck inside my nostrils.
I ate as much of the leftovers as I could (leftover noodles do not keep well) and was eager to throw the containers and the bags out asap. It had to go in the sink room, where the only decent sized garbage was. Sorrynotsorry.
At the station, I bought these taro cakes that looked decent, were super cheap, and, eureka, had English ingredients listed so they were accidentally vegan. Let’s compare the picture on the box with the actual product:
This is not what was advertised. They were like little squares of powder, and as soon as you touched it, it completely fell apart into a pool of powder. We still tried to eat them – it was like the G-D CINNAMON CHALLENGE. We were CHOKING on powder. So f-ing weird. I am mad, I want my taro cakes. I don’t know if the company is a pos or the store just like changed the product for shits and giggles? Don’t know man. But now I don’t have a fun dessert for this train!
I just found a black hair under the pillow.
I really have to pee but I don’t want to unlock the door to our little safe place. Also, the toilets are disgusting. We are back to the kind that just empty clear out onto the tracks with a big hole you can actually see through. One of them is broken and stuck in the open position so you can just look through and see track the whole time. Fun times.
Z still feels like crap (we have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow! his turn to need one!), unfortunately, so while I can sort of act amused by all this, he is miserable and I feel terrible. It doesn’t help that I bought those taro things primarily because he loves taro. He will be so disappointed when he wakes up to learn that they are just cubes of baby powder. At least we have good fruit! I have a container of cut up cantaloupe – seriously, the cantaloupe in China is OFF THE CHARTS. I know usually it’s like the fruit added to fruit salads and trays that no one wants and you’re like eww get off my tray, but I’m obsessed here. It’s sooo good. I can’t get enough. I also bought a bunch of grapes outside the station so they are unwashed and I can’t wash them in train water so I didn’t reallllly think that one through (I can save for hotel at least), three very promising black plums (I love plums!), weird little fat short bananas that are actually good and maybe sturdier than the regular ones (not as much bruising!), two apples courtesy of Tea Cozy’s daily fruit supply, and a super fun treat for our anniversary, our absolute favorite thing we discovered in Burma – custard apples! I don’t know how we will manage to eat them unless we just save for hotel, but so fun.
some of our great fruit! hooray for the fruit in China!
For these long disgusting Chinese trains, I really can’t recommend enough that you bring a bar of soap and a handtowel. Just being able to wash your hands well and dry them satisfactorily brings a great deal of peace. At least to me.
Remember on the Russian trains when I complained about how they didn’t refill the soap dispenser for a while?? HAHAHAH I was so stupid! At least in Russia people use soap! I have yet to find a non-hotel bathroom in China – in ALL of China – that has soap. Just no one washes their hands after using the hole. No joke, in restaurants, malls, trains, stations, public toilets, museums, everywhere, I watch as people just rinse ONE hand in the water for a hot second and then shake it off onto everyone they pass as they exit. There is never soap ever. So disgusting. How is disease not more prevalent? Actually I don’t know the stats at all, maybe it is.
I’m drinking a random store-bought iced tea with zero sugar, barely any flavor, and no bubbles. I hope Chengdu has bubble tea near our hotel. We also have two 4-liter jugs of water for this 26 hour journey, plus two 1.5-liter bottles and the rest of my 2-liter bottle I started this morning. Plus two baby sized ones for brushing our teeth. So for drinking that is about 12 liters. Is that enough??
Ooh it’s raining outside! I like it, for some reason. It’s relaxing, to be inside while it’s raining out. Like hey this is a disgusting hole and we already smell of smoke and China’s national stench, stinky tofu, but at least we are inside.
Z’s getting tired of Chinese food, and I am a little bit too. It’s too bad that it’s hitting us now, when we are about to be in Sichuan province (land of our favorite kind of Chinese food! Super spicy Sichuan!), but it’s understandable given we’ve been here for almost 3 weeks. That’s a lot of Chinese food. Chengdu has a good deal of Western food apparently, and a great many HappyCow listings, so I’m excited. Also we changed our hostel booking to a very nice hotel as a treat for our anniversary and to balance out the trains and some of the prior accommodations and really just everything, and I hope it lives up to its billing and our expectations, but honestly after this train, anything could seem nice.
It’s so odd remembering the Russian trains, on the classic Trans-Siberian routes, where yes we were bunking with regular traveling Russians but the carriages were filled with other tourists. In China, this is not the case. Even on the Beijing to Shanghai train, we didn’t see any non-Chinese people! There is a group of white college-looking people on this train, but they are in platzkart (not called that anymore I know but it’s a good word), the open-bed-dorm style class, so everyone we see on our carriage is Chinese. That’s why everyone stares, they’re like ‘wtf are you doing out here, you know this isn’t meant for you to see, right, it’s very dirty’.
Damn it’s really raining hard now, maybe I don’t like it. I’m scared things are going to start leaking through the ceiling onto us, which would be sooo not fun.
When I get back to London, well we get back at night so I am going to shower and then sleep. Omg. My bed. But the next day, I’m going to hopefully welcome a Tesco delivery of groceries (I need to do that online several days before, I guess when we are in Poland! Someone remember to remind me!) and make a green smoothie with Vega powder omg I miss that so much. And then we are going to watch Netflix all day. And get vegan soft-serve at Yorica in Soho! Omg whyyy did I think of that I want that now. And we will get pizza delivered, Z from Pizza Union down the block (well I guess he’ll pick that up) and me from Basilico because they do vegan cheese. Or maybe by then someone else will have vegan cheese! What a world is happening out there!
I have to go tell someone to stop smoking in the hallway.
Ok no one is in the hallway or in the next room, which means the smokers in the carriage-connecting parts – the actually signed smoking section, if you can believe it – are next to the air vent and so it is getting circulated to all of us with the air conditioning. Cool. Cool cool cool cool. Oh wow it started hailing.
My eye is twitching! from stress?
I just had to find the boiling water station – no more having it in every carriage – and it was THROUGH THE OTHER END OF THE NEAREST PLATZKART CARRIAGE. Omg I have never been in platzkart before it is a zoo! First of all, the bunk beds are TRIPLE TIERED! Ah can you imagine having a top bunk that is actually third up? So crazy! And everyone is just standing around the open plan talking and eating and wow it is very loud. Thank goodness we are in rooms with doors, even if they provide more surface area for dirtiness.
An attendant just knocked and I let her in and she looked around and at the empty top bunks and I SCREAMED WE HAVE ALL FOUR and of course she didn’t understand my words but was FREAKED OUT from my tone and my volume and she ran away. Z said what the fuck you just terrified her! But I was so nervous that she was looking to put people in here that I burst nervously into shouting. Oops. But don’t even think about it lady!
Yay she didn’t she was just confused! We showed her the ghost childrens’ tickets and she got it. We are safe. Phew. I am so excited to shower and enjoy Chengdu. PANDAS! Good food! Hotel amenities! See you on the other side.
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Kiev (Kyiv though) Ukraine: Nice City, Interesting Sights, Indeterminate Vibe
I have to admit that I did not know about Kyiv. Not Kiev; I knew about Kiev. But that’s all I knew. Let me splain. As we planned our trip from Russia through Eastern Europe and back home to London, my husband said “we should go to Kyiv”- pronounced Keev. And I said “where is this ‘Keev’ I never heard of it” and he was like “Kyiv is the capital of Ukraine??” and I was like “no that’s Kiev and it is pronounced ‘Kee-ev'”and he was like “wat” and I was like “what is happening” and I learned that Kiev (‘Kee-ev’) is the Russian word for the city, and since gaining their independence, Ukrainians have been very serious about reclaiming their own word for their capital city, ‘Kyiv’ (Keev), the one syllable version that was unknown to me. Can we blame the Russian bots for my ignorance? Now I’m all smarted up and ready to talk about this great city, Kyiv. Or Kiev, if you wanted to I guess. I like the sound of the two-syllable evil version better, but my preferences as a non-Ukrainian don’t matter. Do as the people want us to. It’s Kyiv.
i know this is a hotel but come on pretty
Now that that’s sorted, let’s talk about this charming city. We were solidly back in Eastern Europe now, having left Mother Russia. Oh let’s talk about that leaving bit, shall we. After our less-than-a-day return to Moscow, we caught an overnight train – our second-to-last one of the trip!! – from Moscow to Kyiv. This train was the worst experience yet, isn’t that so fun??? I know some of you who kept up through all the China and Uzbek trains are like, what how on earth could it be worse? What about those 8 hour border stops where you had to sneak into the bathrooms to pee? What about the old Chinese lady in your bed? Well those were all terrible, yes, but hear me out. When we boarded, I thought we were soo lucky because the toilets were automated! Like Amtrak, with the lit-up flush buttons and stuff! They weren’t just holes opening up onto the track! Unfortunately, that luster was short-lived. Apparently the super-fancy (not fancy, basic technology) toilets very quickly broke, and since the conductor isn’t an engineer, he just duct-taped the toilet shut, rendering it unusable for the rest of the journey. I trekked down to the other end of the carriage with a sigh, which turned into a bigger, more horrified scream when I saw that that toilet was ALSO taped shut. The next cabin on was the restaurant car! No toilets in there! And the next one in the other direction was the overcrowded platzkart, packed full of people in bunk beds in the open plan, with lines for the toilet at all hours and so resentful of people from other carriages on their turf. Those toilets were basic open-the-bottom-onto-the-tracks; apparently only those passengers with doors were given the fancy easily breakable toilets. So every hour throughout the night, I had to clamber through the terrifying open section that connects carriages, stepping on the giant metal chain links that wrenched forward and back with the train’s movement and trying not to fall while jerking the heavy carriage doors open with all my might. Over and over again!
I HATE UNCLE TRAINY you see what I did there
Thank all the lucky stars, I was okay. Pissed off and full of impotent rage that I couldn’t actually direct at anyone (I never saw the conductor people, and also what else could they have done), but okay. I was so excited to see Kyiv, which I know I am spelling in the progressive way but honestly I can’t stop saying Ki-ev in my head. Anyway, I didn’t know much about Ukraine going in, except that I had just recently started saying it without the ‘the’ that so many Americans seem to think is required – seriously why do we always call it The Ukraine?? it’s so weird! – and that Oksana Baiul was my favorite skater in 1994 and the only winner to come out of the whole Tonya Harding-Nancy Kerrigan debacle. Well her and Margot Robbie. I was eager to learn more about the country through its well regarded capital city.
Our Russian language skillz would come in handy to understand all the signs in Cyrillic and all the similar sounding vocab, but despite much of the population speaking and/or understanding Russian, it would not be very wise to lead with speaking Russian. Since their independence from the Mother Country, Ukrainians have some tension, to say the least, with Russia, as we all do. We assumed, now that we were back in Europe, that it would be easy to get by with English. Surely most of the people know English! Spoiler, they don’t! It was very rare that we encountered English speakers. So follow Scar’s advice (not the Boy Scouts)(the Boy Scouts suck) and Be Prepared.
I realize this is just a hotel that we didn’t stay at and I shared a photo from a different angle above but it really represents the city’s aesthetic well
Our train arrived at about 7am, so we were exhausted and very much wanting to shower. Our last shower was in that random hostel in Moscow (was that the day before? Time had no meaning any longer). So we took a cab to our lodging. We were staying for the next few nights at the Theatre Boutique Apart-hotel, in a studio apartment situation that operated like a hotel, sort of, in that there was to be someone at a desk in the building of apartments to check us in. I initially liked how it sounded because theatre. The building was hard to find because it was set back in a kind of alley complex that was SUPER shady and graffitied and even at 7am just completely sketchy. I was skeptical. And unforch, because it was so early, no staffers were in yet. The maid was there, luckily, and was used to dealing with guests arriving at inopportune times, and she told us we could leave our stuff and come back in….six hours. I KNOW! I was soooo mad. Surely the main employee would be in at 9, right? And would call us and tell us that our room was ready before the godforsaken common check in time of 2pm? I could not wait six hours! But I had to! Ahhh! Anyway the ‘place’ we could leave our stuff was right there in the main hallway, reeeeeally not secure, so I was not feeling this place at all. Strike after strike. Z was like ‘who is going to steal our disgusting stuff tho’ and I was like ‘disgusting people tho’. I asked the maid if there was a bathroom we could use – we still needed to brush our teeth and stuff if we couldn’t shower yet! Well, this is an apartment hotel type jawn, not a hotel hotel with bathrooms on the main floor or anything, so no, the only bathrooms are in the rooms. Ahhhh! Luckily, the maid was super nice and showed us to one down the hall that was HER CLOSET. Like it had all her cleaning supplies in it and also all her snacks and changes of clothes and pictures and knick knacks and stuff and also a toilet and a tiny baby sink and it was sooooo awkward. I was so grumpy about this whole situation. But there’s no time to sulk when you are filthy and also in a new exciting city! We decided to go out and get food, and that story plus all related stories will come in a separate post about Kyiv food next. After that and some activities which I’ll talk about next, our room was ready, and it was GREAT. I was so happy because after how low my expectations had dropped since arriving, it was so much nicer than I hoped. It was clean and modern, all black and white and cool, with a nice bathroom and a big comfy bed with really good white sheets. I love white sheets. Anyway, so don’t judge a book by its cover or its lack of employees or main floor toilets and all that. I would highly recommend staying here.
St Sophia
The most important activity for us to do in the city center was see the St. Sophia Cathedral, the oldest surviving church in Kyiv. It’s a UNESCO World Heritage site and you know how we feel about them (loves it!) so off we went to see how the old broad looked after about 1000 years of hard living. The complex is lovely. Note, the Bell Tower costs extra to climb up, but I think it’s worth it. It’s right at the entrance to the whole complex and is nice to end your visit with after seeing the rest of St. Sophia. Also, the Bell Tower is the only spot in the whole place where you are allowed to take pictures so it was worth it just so I can break up all my nonsense with pictures.
climb this biznatch
We had a nice time seeing all the interior churchiness and singing about how Jesus is an ocean, as one does. It’s said that in all the churches in Ukraine that ladies have to cover their heads because god hates seeing us evil-doers or whatever nonsense your religion teaches you to keep you down, but I don’t remember anyone telling me to do so here. I think they are more lenient with tourists. Anyway, we ended with the Bell Tower climb, because we like climbing this. I counted about 200 steps up before I stopped and lost track, which isn’t as bad as it could be buutttt the stairs were pretty, um, not reassuring as you could look through all the thin metal and exposed piping of the layout and see down forever and it was a little anxy. As you would expect of me because this is what I do when traveling in foreign lands and living my life, I banged my head super hard on a metal pipe despite there being a colored swatch on that section because it was low and apparently everyone hit their head on it before they decided to paint the cautionary alert on it but of course I am special and hit my head after they flagged it. It was really painful and we had to stop for a few minutes for the pain to subside and for me to run through the customary thoughts I have every time I hit my head which invariably have to do with Natasha Richardson. Luckily I was okay though, and it seems like Liam is now too. And the views from the top were nice.
“And the hands get heavy oh the hands I don’t know what to do with the hands or the feet”
Our next sight to see was the Golden Gate in the middle of the city, standing like a fortress to remind us of all the fortifications they once needed (prob still need) against enemies. It was named after the Golden Gate of Constantinople, and although it was completely destroyed during the Middle Ages, it was rebuilt by the Soviets in the ’80s. It’s a tad controversial, because no images of the original gate actually exist, so the rebuilding process was under scrutiny from historians et al. who were like ‘no THIS is what it should look like’ ‘ no THIS is’ ‘no YOU’RE mother was a hamster’ and finally Vlad over at the Soviet Historical Society was like ‘no guys this is what we’re doing, you disagree I kill you’ or something probably close to that.
The gate/fortress jawn is right at Zolotovoritsky Square, a lovely little square near a park and a nice row of restaurants and stuff. It’s a nice little city.
Okay so I THINK there was a lil church at the top of the Golden Gate?? And this is me in it?
looks like a funky curved lens doesn’t it like i’m in a funhouse mirror or something
This city is so nice, full of statues and greenery and beautiful buildings. I keep saying that, don’t I, that it was so ‘nice’ and I really hate that word. But there’s not much more I can think of to describe it, because I never really clicked with it. It was great to be back in Europe, and to see such lovely architecture and important monuments and relics of history and all, but I never really jived (jove?) with Kyiv. My husband liked it a lot more than I did, but I didn’t necessarily dislike it, not at all. I just didn’t connect with it. It was nice to look at, nice to be in, but I didn’t feel much for it. My heart wasn’t in it, despite its checking off all the proper points on my list like it was my Walter or my Frank in a Nora Ephron rom com before I met Tom Hanks. (Tom Hanks, btw, would be my Warsaw. Stay tuned for that, our next destination.)
who dat ninja
now that I like
As always, I loved finding funny signs or product names in stores, and despite being back in Europe, we still found some, like this brand of milk that can probably only be enjoyed by blond boys named Chad who swim for just-sub-Ivies.
Or this shop, which we made a LOT of very bad jokes about because Tories are the ones who would cut all arts funding in the UK you get?
AIN’T NO SUCH THING
We had a great time exploring Kyiv. I know you’re probably thinking…you didn’t do that much, right? Well, that’s because our main activity warrants its own post (coming next, along with a food post). The main reason for our visit to Kyiv, besides logistics, was to visit Chernobyl. We took an all day (like seriously from dawn till nighttime) tour of the zone of the infamous, horrible nuclear disaster, and it was astounding. Devastating, heartbreaking, and we learned so much that is only now coming to light about the disaster. It’s a truly worthwhile trip to take if you are in Ukraine or in Kyiv, which, despite my not clicking with it whole-heartedly, I still do recommend visiting!
Vegan in Jamaica? Yah Mon!
Don’t worry, I’m not gonna pull a Tom-Hanks’-least-fave-child and say anything else patois. Recently, we escaped the dreary dullness of a London winter and went to WEPA JAMAICA (that’s how I referred to it the whole time, in the style of In the Heights when everyone shouts “Wepa! Vanessa!” but I said Jamaica instead, it does not make sense no but I heard it in my heart) for a wedding. I know the known thing is like ‘people have destination weddings if they don’t really want you to come’ but hell no were we missing our best excuse for a trip to Jamaica! We stayed at the famous Round Hill resort in Montego Bay, but we also made sure to visit the actual city and its vegan food options, which were prettayyy great, mon.
So let’s learn about Jamaica real fast! Jamaica is an island mon! You knew that! In the Caribbean! You know what’s weird, everyone says ‘Caribbean’ with the accent on ‘RIB’ BUT whenever anyone says Pirates of the Caribbean they put the accent on BE isn’t that something. Columbus happened upon in in 1494 and so he said ‘The Spanish own you now!’ and the Spanish killed a lot of native people either the old fashioned way or by bringing new diseases to them. Fun fact: Columbus is in the Bad Place because of all the raping, slave trade, and genocide!
After some more shit, the English conquered it, named it Jamaica mon, made it into a leading sugar exporter (more slave trade), yada yada yada, it became independent in 1962, though it is still a Commonwealth country (so Lizzie Dos is their queen). Jamaica is a wee small island with international fame and influence much greater than you’d expect for a wee small, considering the spread of Rastafarian culture, reggae music, and their bobsled team.
Kingston is the capital and the largest city, but tourists tend not to go there because it has some violence. Tourists, especially from the UK, will likely fly into Kingston, however, and unless you get a connection to MoBay (that’s how the cool kids say Montego Bay), it’s a 2.5 hour drive at least. Luckily for us, we were coming from Philadelphia so it’s an easy flight to MoBay. I’m gonna tell you all this up front before you get to the beautiful resort stuff and fun vegan food jawn: the Montego Bay airport is a nightmare. It’s an absolute zoo, and after you get off the plane you will wait in a sea of endless people pretending to be some semblance of a line until you get to immigration hours later. HOURS. And this entire route, snaking from the gates to immigration, have no toilets. (Obviously I weasled my way through all the halls to the front of the mess somehow to find the bathroom but then went back to Z.) Immigration has kiosks where you enter your info, it prints out a document, and then you take it to a person at a desk. It’s a MADHOUSE. The only funny thing is that tourism is such an enormous part of the economy that the short list of ‘reasons to be in Jamaica’ that you have to answer – the normal options being ‘business or travel’ – also includes ‘for a wedding’.
Also baggage took FOREVER to arrive. You might be like ‘oh that’s fine I always just use a carry-on’ but our flight was ‘overcrowded’ and made everyone check their carry-ons too…and then all the overhead bins were empty, completely empty. The people in front of us on the plane were carry-on people and they were LIVID. See sometimes it’s good to overpack!
Alright you did it you made it through the nonsense. And now:
The Round Hill is lovely, refined resort that seemed perfect for the calmer crowd that does not go clubbing every night (like us!) (although tell that to the gaggle of divorced blondes who arrived on our last day and WERE SO LOUD). It was honestly one of the most ridiculous places I’ve ever seen in real life. Not for regular tourists like us who stayed in the main hotel (it was nice but regular), but for bigwigs staying in the luxury villas on the outer grounds. If you are supes loaded and want to go to Jamaica, THIS is where you stay. One of them was a favorite vacation spot for JFK and Jackie, and one is owned by Ralph Lauren (who is on the Round Hill board). If you are really eager to waste a bunch of your time today, go to the Round Hill website and take video tours of each of the 28 luxury villas. It’s like watching the (amazing) Netflix show The World’s Most Extraordinary Homes but somehow more upsetting. The posher of the wedding guests stayed in villas, so I visited and took some sneaky photos (shared anon).
We stayed in the main hotel since we are Not Royalty, with a really nice room that we got for half price with the wedding rate. Honestly, I cannot believe that people pay twice TWICE as much as we did for the basic rooms. It was nice but man alive that’s some crazy talk. And NB this is NOT an all-inclusive resort; in fact, we felt quite nickel-and-dimed by how exorbitant the cost for food &c turned out to be. We definitely had snobbish attitudes in the past about all-inclusive resorts being like lower class or something STUPID like that, but after experiencing this ridiculously expensive place where you get like a $20 salad and you’re like ‘ugh that was mediocre but we knew it would be expensive’ but then you get the bill and there’s already 20% service included which fine that’s fine waiters deserve it but then there’s also like an extra tax fee and then a separate service charge and you’re like wait how is that different from the other service fee but you don’t want to make a fuss don’t make a fuss and then somehow there’s also a random $5 like resort fee or something that is inexplicable so if you ever order a drink it will not be $8 it will be $25 which is why I only drink water, we are so ready to board the all-inclusive train (not that we have ever done a resort vacay before or plan to in the near future, you know us and our penchant for difficult travel!).
The resort comprises endless standalone buildings spread throughout the expansive grounds (most of it unseen by the regular guests, with the grounds uphill from the beach reserved for villas), with the public areas – the restaurants, the reception, the main block of rooms, the gym, the pool – along the beach in a semi-circle. The entrance to the hotel room building was surprisingly drab compared to the rest of the place – you entered from a very industrial-looking side with all the giant tanks and AC units on your doors’ front stoops (all rooms entered from the outside). Weird but inside was a beautiful room.
I love a hotel bed and this was a pretty good one! Not in my top 5 of all-time hotel beds but probably in my top 10! I loved the little sitting area by the balcony; you can’t see in this photo but against the right-side wall is a daybed (“Janet! Fetch my dizzy couch!”). Here’s the view from our balcony:
The weird thing about that unfinished-seeming entrance to the hotel block meant that the resort staff worked like right up against our windows and we could hear everything they did and said whenever we were in the bathroom. It was awkward! There were also like bags full of linens and towels on our front stoop at all times (and not for me to use!). So that was weird.
Here are the pics I promised from inside one of the villas – not even one of the “fancy” ones.
This is their private pool – every villa has a private pool so they don’t have to hobnob with the poors. It’s about the same size as the main one!
We used the main hotel pool every day, and it was super lovely. During the weekdays, it wasn’t too crowded at any point, but on the weekend it was a bit. The infinity pool stretching over the ocean was so beautifully designed. I was just surprised that it was a little small (and that there was no other public pool on the grounds like for lap swimming (I brought my googles!)). I guess most people are using their private pools!
One day we had the pool to ourselves at sunset and it was the most magical thing ever.
Round Hill has a great gym (included in the room rate thank goodness) that I super enjoyed, although it’s about a 15 minute walk around the beach from the main hotel block (and you have to pass the restaurant, so I’d see people I knew having breakfast and I’d be all sweaty). They also have a yoga pavilion next to the gym – which sounds amazing, right? Except the yoga classes are around $25 and it’s more like hot yoga since pavilions are outdoor structures. I was okay sticking to the gym.
The whole fitness center complex also had a deluxe spa, which I did not use (cannot imagine how expensive the massages are) but I used the bathrooms during the wedding and they were super nice.
Admission: I didn’t actually go to the beach here. Eeeek. I mean I walked in it and put my foot in just to have done that, but when faced with a beach and a pool/the chance to be sandy vs not sandy, I’m always going to pick pool. I should have had at least one beach day, I know. OOPSIE.
So as you can see, the Round Hill was pretty paradisical. The only drawback was that I was SUPER excited to play tennis every day and…I just couldn’t. It was too hot. I was shocked that the courts were always empty, but then the staff and Jamaican friends were like, uh yeah? People only play before the sun is up, otherwise YOU WILL DIE. I even had a lesson booked and everything but had to cancel because it was 1000 degrees. So sad! (And they were like oh thank god.) Aside from that, we had an amazing time, even though we aren’t really sit-by-the-side-of-the-pool-for-days-and-don’t-see-anything-of-the-land-you’re-in kinds of travelers. And we weren’t! We were the only guests to venture downtown into Montego Bay, even though we were told pretty much that “tourists stay in their resorts.” I must admit, everyone downtown was staring at us, with faces like WHAT are you doing, you lost? But the people we actually spoke to/who fed us seemed happy to see us out and about. And we had to go, not only to see the real Jamaica and not just a resort, but to find the good vegan food.
Round Hill catered fine to my veganism, and I had some nice quinoa stir-fries and veggie stews. Also, if you are in the market for a destination wedding, their buffet at this wedding was incredible, and super vegan-friendly (and also really, really not) (you know what I mean, think Jason Segel in Forgetting Sarah Marshall when he cries on the beach). But as I said, the food was supes expensive, and Montego Bay had several exciting vegan joints to check out anyway.
It’s annoying to get downtown, because you probably aren’t renting a car (if you do you are nuts in that traffic and all-around lawlessness re traffic laws), and the resorts charge an arm and a leg to take you downtown, but that’s the way you have to do it. It’s such a racket. We planned on getting our own cabs once we were downtown, but we literally could not. Every single taxi we saw was a route taxi, meaning they fill up with lots of people and operate like a small bus. They weren’t taking us to our specific destinations, let alone back to the resort! So that’s just one annoyance you have to suck up.
One morning, we had to go downtown anyway for the BEST MOST RIDICULOUS experience (with dogs) of all time, which will be its own (next) post. After that morning experience, we went straight to Millennium Victory, a vegan Rastafarian restaurant. It was THE BEST.
There’s a long history of vegetarianism in Rastafari culture. It’s called Ital food in the Rastafari tradition, derived from the word ‘vital’ but with no ‘v’, emphasizing the ‘I’ as it emphasizes the unity of each individual with nature. (Thanks wikipeeds.) It means food that’s natural, pure, and from the earth. Ital food aims to increase “livity”, the life energy in all people. (That’s why that vegan raw dessert market stall in London is called Organic Livity, I am just now realizing; and yes the people who run it are Rasta.) Rastafari commonly believe that everything you put in your body should enhance livity and not reduce it. That means there’s no chemicals or additives. It also can sometimes mean no salt, which is yikes (but often especially means no salt treated with iodine, which is yay for me), but this food was seasoned well and delicious. I would LOVE to go back here.
We asked the staff to decide for us, as everything on their big board menu sounded excellent. So they brought us two big plates of their best stuff, and everything was indeed excellent. We had jerk tofu (omg), roasted plantains and veg, all in amazing sauces. There were huge chunks of homemade seitan and sauteed ackee, the famous Jamaican fruit that whips up somehow just like eggs. AMAZING. I don’t remember everything else so just ask them to decide for you if you go, which you def should if in MB.
UGH IT WAS SO GOOD. We also got a melon skin juice, which was ace. There was a really friendly man eating at the table next to us who was like ‘this melon skin juice is the best, you need to try it’ and we were like ‘we’re okay thanks though’ and he was like ‘no I insist, I’ll order it for you’ and we were like ‘ok thanks man!’ and he really did just mean order it, not pay for it, it sounded like he was going to pay for it, but then the staff was like you need to pay for your juice, it was funny and also a Larry David moment. We also got Jamaican patties (like pasties/hand pies but not flaky crusted, which is amazing for me because I don’t like buttery flaky things (I do know that this is weird)) filled with veggies to take away to have the next day.
The best part of any hotel room is a fridge that’s empty (not full of minibar crap you don’t want (or worse the kind of minibar where it charges you if you MOVE something? LET ME USE THE DAMN FRIDGE ASSHOLE)), and since we had one in our room, we went to a giant supermarket called Progressive, in a downtown mall, so we could stock up on snacks, fruit, breakfast foods, and drinks.
I forking love this supermarket. They had SO much vegan stuff, like an entire enormous aisle of non-dairy milks, a war chest of strange vegan meats that I’ve never seen before even in Chinese groceries, a juice/smoothie bar, all kinds of great stuff.
what meat is batonette 
all kinds of vegan whats 
this is vegan corned beef WHAT 
whole new to me vegan burger brand 
the label says ‘Golden Vegan Balls’ hehe balls 
did not buy because rum 
did buy but didn’t try yet 
we got chocolate almond milk to make oatmeal with it’s my best trick 
i love ginger cookies but these aren’t very sweet honestly the Ikea ones are the best I’m serious
I had two ultimate favorite items from this shopping trip: one for its hilarious packaging that still makes me laugh, and one because it is g-d delicious.
The funny one:
wat
(and has protein!)
The next restaurant we tried wasn’t vegetarian or vegan, but it had tons of vegan options. It was the kind of cafe you would find on every block in Malibu or something, with an extensive trendy menu, lots of green smoothies, and a yoga-studio vibe. I obviously loved it. DLE Cafe is right around the order from the Progressive market, btw.
I could tell you how extensive DLE Cafe’s menu was but I’m just going to show you so you can appreciate how difficult my decision was.
I don’t remember which green smoothie I got but obviously I got one, and it was great! I was annoyed to get a plastic cup since I drank it there, but I did have it while I was waiting for them to make the rest of my order which was takeaway so I guess that’s a good reason and prob my fault. The straw was paper though, which is good in theory but they disintegrate super fast.
Here’s just one of the food menu pages ugh I still can’t decide and I’m not even there. There’s a feeling long-time vegans know well, when you are used to not having much decision-making power and then you’re faced with a menu with so many options and you are like NO STOP IS TOO MUCH.
I decided on the ackee wrap because you must eat as much ackee as possible when in Jamaica it is a MAGIC fruit and I don’t understand why jackfruit blew up as pork and ackee hasn’t as eggs? Someone sell it! I also got the vegan mac & cheese because I’m a mac & cheese fanatic and also look at that menu it says “hands down this is probably the best mac you will ever have” and I was like “excuse me is it ‘hands down’ or is it ‘probably’ you can’t have it both ways this is like how my brother and I for some reason say ‘poss def’ all the time and no one gets it and for good reason! Anyway the mac was just okay. No pics because it was takeaway and the pictures I took were sad.
Lastly, poss def my favorite, was the Chabad Kosher Hot Spot. You say Chabad, you say Kosher, I hear hummus and I come running.
The Hot Spot is an Israeli food joint right across the main road from Margaritaville (which apparently is the hottest place to party, even for locals, on a Tuesday night…or maybe it was Thursday…I don’t know because I didn’t go obvs but ask a local). We called in an order before our flight home so we could get it en route to the airport (smort!). The number on the website…is not the one to call. Somehow, when we called to place an order for HUMMUS, we heard “this is Rabbi x…?” THE RABBI PICKED UP. HAHAHAHHAHA. We apologized and were like sorry we were trying to reach the restaurant? and he was like ‘oh sure here’s their number!’ It’s all connected, the Chabad org and the restaurant, see all these Jews in Jamaica just want to make sure everyone who wants hummus can get the hummus, THAT’S ALL THEY WANT SO BE NICE.
We did get our hummus, which was excellent, and our amazing flatbread, and Israeli salad and a jerk falafel wrap (that’s right) so yeah DEFFO a must in MoBay. Again, I’m not going to share takeaway pictures because yeesh and oh no. But trust me that everything was great! What a great find! When we told our driver where we wanted to stop, he was like ‘oh yeah I’ve heard of that place!’ and seemed excited so I hope he went and liked it.
At the airport, leaving is much saner than arriving, and they have giant water bottles at most vendors! Huzzah! (Small water bottles are the devil’s playthings.) There’s also plenty of recognizable food outlets. I had my hummus and falafel but I did buy one non-water airport treat, a packet of moringa powder. You know I’m a sucker for all things superfood and apparently moringa is big in Jamaica. I had to buy it because a) it’s a Jamaican variety so that’s cool and b) the brand?? do you see the brand name? LOL. (Shavuot is a Jewish holiday.)
So that’s my time in Jamaica, my babies. I leave you with a Jamaican proverb, just one of the many such cards that housekeeping left on our pillows every night – literally the best part of the trip.
