Columbused by western hippies, the area quickly morphed into a bastion for, well, hedonism, fueled by the free love movement and a steady stream of ganja. Originally dubbed Negril Beach Village when it opened back in 1976, Hedonism II (there was never a Hedonism I, though no one has yet been able to provide a satisfactory answer as to why) sits on a once-quiet stretch of sand called Seven Mile Beach. As a “top media personality” (which I’m now adding to my email signature, below my actual credentials of “food editor at Atlanta alt-weekly, who has less than 300 followers on Twitter”), I had been invited to participate in a jerk chicken competition called, for reasons that will soon become obvious, the Jerk-Off. Subject: “Hedonism II's Jerk-Off Culinary Competition.” Opening it against my better judgment, I found not the virus I probably deserved but instead, a bona fide invitation for an all-expenses-paid three-night trip to Jamaica. My journey here began with an email that, by all accounts, should have been spam. It’s impossible not to feel like a bit of an asshole when visiting countries like this, fair shores imperialized by exclusive, self-contained resorts packed with sunburnt hordes, but I’m trying to block that out we hurtle toward our destination: Hedonism II, “the world’s most iconic adult playground.”
The tube-topped blonde sitting in front of us snaps photos through an expensive-looking camera. They press their bodies against the shuttle at stoplights, tap on the windows, speak beseechingly in the local patois. Men selling fruit and candy crowd the roads under flame red Poinciana trees. The margarita sloshes in my stomach as we careen past postcard-perfect beaches and concrete shanties painted in bright pastels.
Two brain freezes later and my boyfriend Rob and I are on a shuttle full of wide-eyed tourists, heading west along the coast to Negril. The source of said margarita is a Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville (which features a playlist almost exclusively comprised of Buffett songs), and the message is clear: You’re here to have fun, and fun begins with something cold, sweet, and boozy.
Upon exiting the front door of the Sangster International Airport in Montego Bay, Jamaica, you’ll immediately be offered a frozen margarita.
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