The beach at Negril is a natural wonder, 11 km of pristine sand and water.

The placid Negril River is as good a place as any to moor fishing and tourist boats.

A daredevil diver hangs from his lofty perch before plunging into the sea far below at Rick's Cafe. Photos by Tym Glaser / China Daily

Dreadlock Bob works on his carving of a wooden dog at the Negril Art and Craft Market.

Jamaica is not only known for Bob Marley, the world's fastest sprinters and Blue Mountain coffee.

Tym Glaser tells us why he loves the tropical island and Negril, in particular, so much.

'What you want, mon? Ganja? Coke? Women? I know lots of pretty girls," says the man on the motorbike upon seeing me wandering down to the main store in the Jamaican beachside haven known as Negril.

Projecting my best patois, I reply: "Nah mon, every ting kris." And, by and large, everything is good in Jamaica as life just rolls along at a leisurely pace in the sunlit Caribbean island nestled under Cuba and a mere up-and-down flight from Miami.

"The Rock" or "Jamdown", as locals like to call it, has a severely bad reputation for violence, and more than 1,000 murders per year in a population of about 3 million tends to justify that call. But, that is primarily gang related and rarely, if ever, affects tourists - the lifeblood of a country with a strained economy, to say the least.

Hit the 11-km long Negril beach, which crosses the borders of the western parishes of Westmoreland and Hanover, grab a beach chair, a Red Stripe beer or rum, gaze out at the multi-tinctured blue Gulf of Mexico waters and you are immersed in paradise.

"Froooot, froooot?" says the woman with a large wicker basket full of multiple varieties of mangoes, pineapples, bananas and even the unbelievably pungent but sweet jackfruit, balanced on her head, as she walks past my hotel.

Then comes the patty guy with his chicken, beef and vegetable pastries on a chainless pushbike being, well, pushed along the sand.

"Don't need no patty yet, thanks."

"Where you from, mon?"

"Australia, but I live in China now."

"Yah, mon, good cricketers. That Steve Waugh, 'im da best. You want patty later? Me soon come back."

And so it goes on the strand of Negril - the "fruit lady", the patty man, the masseuse, the guy who wants to take you out on a ride in a glass-bottom boat, the dude who wants you to parasail and the other who has jet skis to burn and a banana boat too and, also, the odd woman of the day.

But, they don't loiter too long. A simple, "nah, mon, every ting irie", does the trick.

There's not much to see or do in or around Negril. There's a water park and a so-so golf course.

Black River, about an hour away, has animals with sharp, pointy teeth. But when I am on holiday, I just want to eat, read, drink, sleep and beach.

Younger tourists hit the immensely popular Jungle night club and those seeking more exotic sights go to Scrub-a-Dub. Many stay at all-inclusives like the world famous Hedonism II at the north end of the beach, and just move from room to bar to beach.

But, one must-see is Rick's Cafe, a restaurant perched on the cliffs of the West End. Its Western-style food is nothing to write home about, but its fearless cliff divers and spectacular sunset views are and it rakes in loads of tourists each evening.

The same cannot be said about my fish-selling friend Jim, who hangs freshly caught tuna from a tree along the main thoroughfare, Norman Manley Boulevard, which runs the length of the beach.

"Tings tough now, mon. Dem tourists nah come so much no more," he says. "De government mash tings up and dem foreigner don't come," he says after accepting J$200 (about $2.50) in Stripe (beer) money to give his thoughts on the economy and tourism.

"We can catch up to 80 fish a day sometimes, but is hard to sell when nobody want to buy. Times tough, mon, tough, tough."

A mere solid tuna toss away is Bob, another dreadlock, carving away on what appears to be a large dog in the Negril market. He is surrounded by wooden elephants, giraffes, tigers and more dogs.

As Jamaica has no truly special wildlife, he has to draw on Africa and Asia for inspiration. Bob is also finding things tough.

"It rough, maybe I not selling any ting for a month. Not here, not MoBay (Montego Bay). Dem tourist dem, dey go to other islands now like Barbados, Trinidad, Mexico, Venezuela," he says with no great geographical accuracy but nonetheless getting his point across.

Bob, who also politely requests "Stripe money", chips away at his canine and adds, "It's tough, but better mus' come, de Chinee come, de British come, but not so many Americans or Canada people no more."

Journalistic obligations completed and sympathetic - if somewhat expensive remarks recorded - it's back to the strand at Travelers Beach Resort and MY cold Red Stripe, cool deck chair, warm sun and view of paradise.

As 10cc sang, "I don't like Jamaica, oh no, I love it. Oh yeah".

Contact the writer at

tymglaser@chinadaily.com.cn.

(China Daily 01/20/2013 page16)