#B1M – December 26, 2014 Sam Lord’s Castle

This morning I woke up at 6:30 am sharp. Sun was shining, weather was sweet, I had to move my ready feet.
I took my father (after brushing my teeth) and took a right off of lilac st, another right and walked on for over 30 minutes. We passed some small farmland. Mansions growing and coconut trees too. Sugar apples and multi-colored galvanize…ing.
Finally I saw the sign and knew I was on the right path. We took another right, and it was at the end of this road that my father started protesting loudly and with more vigor. He promised he would turn back (with his camera) but at the last minute I pointed out the small white turrets in the near distance.
“It’s Sam Lord’s Castle,” I told him, “See? We have to keep going.”
I walked into one of the old lookout posts. A rasta with big matted locks came from the bush to give us his blessings.
We said good morning and continued down the long abandoned and long overgrown path.
See, Sam Lord was a pirate. He used to hang lanterns up near the turrets and coming ships would think it was a lighthouse. When their ships crashed, he and his men would rob their ships. After he died they turned his home into some kind of museum or tourist spot, but it burned down several years ago and no one has cleaned it up.
As we walked further, Jefferson’s protests amplified. I was enchanted. On my last trip to the island this was really the only place I had researched that I wanted to visit. I did not.
Through one of the first clearings I saw a big pool. I was about to get so excited remembering 13th century Pompeiian pools and imagining this was so old but I remembered it was a resort and quickly came back. But I continued deeper, and despite my father’s threats to leave and protests I lept over a wall, scurried in deeper and with only the sound of a thousand species of insect, the sea in the distance and the birds welcoming me through the wind, I found myself under the castle. In my front it rose up, tall and white and stone. In my back stone sculpted benches and steps led to a lookout with a perfect view of the bench and the sea.
I took my moment and then quickly returned. The threats seemed more serious this time and it was his camera.
On our way out I pulled us to another detour. Another section of the castle stood with its magnificent stairs and low walls in total disarray covered with vines through which sunlight strone to illuminate the cracks and emptiness. I realized how nervous my dad was and he said a loose lion might be around.
He compared me to the nervous tourist in a ghost movie who disappears. I took a photo of a lizard on this column and we left. On the outside walkway we found (or Dad found and explained the anatomy of) a regular almond tree and a cotton tree.
Did you know that cotton is a tiny plant? I mean, really tiny. How much time – my mind is tired, my words confused and my body aches.
So I will continue on Hackleton’s cliff and the day tomorrow but for now…sleep.


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