In my furious rush to prepare for the holiday I left all entertainment material at home and didn’t have time to stop off at the news agent. Boredom sets in and after a few re-reads of the in-flight magazine I run out of literature.

Fortunately a man behind me — dressed in full Muslim attire — hands me a pamphlet to read. The title scans something like "Terrorism, Hijacking and the Muslim religion". I read the first few extracts which turn out to be a bit on the apocalyptic side so I put it down and attempt to have a nap.

Yes... sleep... coming... never... before... on... flight...

"Excuse me sir! Would you like some Jerk Chicken?"

Rats! Robbed of slumber but my stomach sends a signal to my brain to visualise a well spiced piece of chicken. My eyes send a signal back to my brain that the chicken is slightly green and the spice looks like something the chicken once rolled in. My hands unpack the plastic knife and fork and my mouth opens.

Finally we approach the Montego Bay airport and I pray for a smooth descent as my bowels have had a bumpy ride over the last couple hours. Fortunately there is no turbulence and everything is calm and quite relaxing — except for the incessant chanting behind me.

My pamphlet distributing friend has begun praying loudly and banging his head with his knuckles. Now I'm an open-minded guy, but this was slightly over the top considering the frayed nerves of Londoners these days. Things get even more uneasy when he pulls out a gigantic Koran and a device which resembles a compass and begins shaking and chanting.

I hope that he hadn't had any of the airline food because if he didn’t want to blow up the plane, he might do now.

Touch down

It is eight in the evening and about 35°C. I board a bus which leaves about half-an-hour late and head off to my digs in Montego Bay. I always feel like an excited child when travelling on a bus at night, especially in a new country.

A sparse collection of lights blink in the distance and dimly lit shacks bounce by as we travel along an uneven road. The sky is clear and sparkling with stars. Reggae plays in the background and, happily, after a hard few months it sinks in that I'm on holiday in Jamaica.

An impressive gate swings open to the colonially named Wyndham Rose hotel and the bus drives into the open arms of a massive fortress clearly built for very rich people with very fat pockets — actually it turned out to be a lot of very fat people in small bathing suits, but that’s beside the point.

After checking into my room I repeat to myself the wonderful mantra of this holiday, "All Inclusive". Psychologically I prepare myself and head of to descend upon the free food and booze with all the restraint and decorum of a common locust.

I'm still excited and awake and quickly head up to the bar for my first glass of Red Stripe. It’s the only lager on tap so I'd better get used to it. It hits my tongue with a dry, watered down fizzle. Not to worry, it’s free so might as well get a jug. Five bachelors who are part of the wedding to which I've been invited finally emerge from their rooms and meet me in the bar. They're also jet-lagged. but after forcing down a few jugs of fine Jamaican brew we drink and plan our activities.

Natural High

The next day, hung over and sticky — from the combination of Red Stripe saturated sweat and severe humidity — I peel myself out of bed and head off to the swimming pool. The plan today is to relax in the resort and indulge in some water sports.

The resort offers many activities including massages, diving, snorkelling, kayaking and parasailing – all at an additional cost; between $50 and $100. Three of us decide upon parasailing and before I know it I'm whisked up high up by the blustery Jamaican winds.

The sensation is calming and I observe grand cumulo-nimbus clouds building in the distance. It's the second rainy season, which lasts from August to October, (the first is in May) and every day around 3pm storm clouds roll across the island and we're treated with a fierce electric battle in the sky.

Another kind of natural high

Getting high naturally is great, but we are in Jamaica after all and, well, it would be rude not to. Fortunately, our green friend is easily acquired from the hotel porters. I learnt that "Do you have everyt'ing you need?" actually means "Would you like to celebrate part of our culture and get blasted out of your mind?"

Read more on page two…