To the rhythms of Bob Marley

A lot of people drove by car in Cuba . And for the only one hundred kilometers Jamaica - it seems like I'm one . But I managed to see during this trip: fields of cane sugar, a cave where Bob Marley sang and . fields of cane sugar . Houses , knocked down from the boxes from the boxes - do not count . My driver lit a goat's leg and only then turned on the reggae tape . The grass lay in his glove box . I refused - in Jamaica before do not smoke to be original . "Rispekt, Maine", - my driver has approved my choice . He usually sells souvenirs in the local market, but if necessary he is ready and driven . In every colonial country I'm used to buying a souvenir worth exactly one hundred dollars . But the most valuable thing that the seller found was worth fifty . For the second fifty dollars, we agreed to ride around the neighborhood a full light day .

The most popular a bright T-shirt on the island - with the inscription "Jamaica No Problem". No problems with the trip to the smoky "Ford" on the shattered roads really did not arise. I met a dozen smiling guys (each with a chinarik), saw a lot of right-handed "Lad" and was almost accustomed to the creativity of Bob Marley's epigones. Somewhere on the horizon there were vague mountains. True, the apotheosis turned out to be smeared - at the sugar factory the shift was already over, and we were not allowed into the workshops. Crowds of Creole workers came out of the gate like a zombie

At the gate of the hotel the driver took the bull by the horns. "I'd like to add, commander," he stammered, speaking in Jamaican-English. "After all, they approached the sugar refinery." But the guy was clearly easier than our taxi drivers. A brief comparison of the amount requested and the pension of the Russian labor veteran, as well as a hint of climatic differences between Jamaica and Russia, was enough to make the bidding irrelevant. - Rispekt, men, - my black brother just said. If it was not dark, I would surely see tears of pity in his eyes.