The fact that I am on a Caribbean island, easy to forget sometimes when you’ve been inside all day, was driven home this morning, the first hours of a hot, sunny Sunday that found me wandering down to the small shopping center to read the Sunday paper, when the air suddenly cracked with a violent thunder that set off hundreds of car alarms across the city and the sky opened to a torrent of rain and wind.
After standing outside of the market for half an hour, grocery bag in hand, I decided to break down and buy an umbrella from the scruffy fellow selling them – he had been watching me, tempting me, patiently waiting as my capacity to wait out the storm gave way to my boredom. In any case, by the time I made it back home I was soaked anyway, and, due to the inadequate drainage in Kingston that sees the streets turn to rivers at the slightest precipitation, my shoes gushed with water.
It was a good morning none the less, though. I found, to my great pleasure, a nearby cafe that not only had wifi, allowing me to read the Sunday NY Times, but served up the fabulous Blue Mountain coffee.