Creating this blog is all new to me. I thought that the perfect start to my coffee and travel adventures would be to immerse myself in my heritage. Jamaica.

This year I discovered that I’m a planner.  It helps me to feel safe, and to envision the experience I would like to have. Having set times and activities planned brings me peace and comfort. This trip to Jamaica has taught me that things may not go according to plan. The most fascinating thing is that what you get in the end can be beautiful, compelling, and is often exactly what you need to prepare you for the future.

It was my last full day before we were to head home. After spending my evening planning my first coffee crawl in JA, I woke up excited and ready to start the day anew. After a few horror stories about punctuality and “Island time,” I anticipated a few hiccups and left room for flexibility. So I thought.

 I was excited to get my planned day started. A coffee crawl in Kingston was a perfect way to spend the day. I had mapped everything out the night before, adding a stop at a sporting goods store as the grand finale so my brother and I could purchase the brand new Reggae Boyz Jamaica Football (Soccer) jersey. 

First up, breakfast. I ordered none other than the national dish of Jamaica, Ackee and Saltfish to get me ready for the day ahead. Ackee, the national fruit, is sautéed with salt fish (cod) fish, onions, tomato, sweet pepper, and other seasonings, often served with fried dumplings and callaloo.  Although my hotel was serving Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee, I skipped my morning cup and had a fresh cup of pineapple juice, in preparation for a full day of coffee crawl bliss in Kingston. 

Being in my homeland, everything feels magnified. This is my country of origin, and the first time my brother and I have been back without our parents to guide us. I wanted to eat more, experience more, feel more, soak up the culture, the nature, the history, the vibe. With that in mind, this coffee crawl was about to be WICKED!

After breakfast we called our Uber to take us to the first of four stops –Blue Mountain Coffee. The images of the location on Google were pristine, and I couldn’t wait for my first sip. The Uber driver pulled up to a building that didn’t seem to match what was on Google. He stopped at a security guard and asked for him to point us in the direction of Blue Mountain Coffee. We went across the street and came upon some office buildings. We confirmed with the security guard at the new location that there was a coffee shop there, so we hopped out of the Uber and went in search of it. When we walked past the office buildings we did not find what I previously saw on Google, but we did find a small Jablum coffee kiosk. Once there, we were directed to walk across the street to find the correct address. As we proceeded we found we were back where we had started. 

I sent a text to my cousin, and she informed me that all of the places I had planned on my epic coffee crawl were in fact business offices, and not actual coffee shops. My heart sank. At the same time, Uber decided to lose all connectivity on my phone. I had absolutely no service and the Uber screen went blank. Now we were stranded, no taxi in sight. 

Luckily my brother has a second phone. While he sat by the roadside focused, trying to salvage the day by downloading Uber, I stood there feeling defeated. The whole day  seemed like a bust. All the work that I had done to create a beautiful agenda where I would be immersed in culture and coffee experiences seemed lost.

The kind security guard, Martinez, took pity on us and asked us what we were looking for. I explained that I was creating a blog and I’d like to document my coffee experiences in Jamaica.

He paused and leaned back to exchange a few words in Patois with the woman who had been sitting on an overturned paint bucket outside of his security post manually letting cars into the lot.  As a Jamerican (Jamaican American)  it’s always interesting watching the dynamic of my cultural heritage. To someone less familiar, the interaction they were having may sound like they are quarreling with one another, but they are in fact just passionately exchanging information and most often, cracking jokes on one another.

While Martinez was conversing with the woman, I walked over to a nearby wall and sat in the shade with the cool Jamaican breeze at my face watching cars go by and trying not to get emotional. 

Martinez then called me over to speak with his friend who I’ll call Mr. R. Mr. R. explained to us that he was actually a coffee retailer, and that is probably why we may have been confused on Google search. He then asked what we were looking for, and then he suggested that we call his friend Norman. 

Mr. R explained that Norman was in the coffee business and was convinced that he would be of great help. Normally, I would ask more questions, but for some reason I just let it go. I trusted the process and plugged Norman’s number into my phone. After saying our goodbyes to  security guard Martinez and Mr. R, our Uber finally arrived so we hopped in.

 At this point the trust was gone, I no longer trusted my cellular service or Uber service and didn’t want to risk getting stuck again. Instead of continuing on to the previously planned stops, we decided to return to the hotel and wait for our cousin to get off of work.

As we headed back to the hotel, I decided to drown my sorrows in a venti shaken iced oat milk latte. Until now I had absolutely no interest in having Starbucks in Jamaica but I needed to regroup so, bottoms up! At least I could enjoy it poolside. As I sat there feeling sorry for myself, I reflected on how only one coffee event from my eight-day itinerary came to fruition. I was more than bummed. I looked at Norman’s number on my phone and thought, what’s the point ==this is my last day here.

My brother sat silently on the lounge chair next to me. Outwardly he looked so relaxed while sipping on a Caribbean mule, soaking up the sun. At the same time I could feel that he was wisely waiting, letting me feel what I needed to feel. Curled up on the lounge chair fighting back tears, I took a sip of my “commercial beverage.” Shockingly, it tasted way better than in the states. Not sure if it was the perfectly balanced Blue Mountain Coffee or if it was me, but the moment that cool sweet coffee hit my taste buds, I told myself No. NO! I will not let my emotions take me away. I will not submit to negativity and doubt. I will not leave here without fighting. I came all this way, I will remain positive, this is my dream. I will remain hopeful, and I am going to finish this trip strong. So I decided at that moment I was going to call Norman. 

I went online and Googled his whole name and saw Senator Norman W. Grant. To my shock and surprise, Norman Grant is in fact a former Senator, Managing Director and CEO of Mavis Bank Coffee Factory and so much more. 

Mavis Bank Coffee is the largest producer of the much revered and 100% certified Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee. Mavis Bank produces its very own roasted coffee under the JABLUM brand. They also produce green beans and roasted beans with Wallenford Coffee Company, Both brands are sold internationally and all across the island. In fact, this year Mavis Bank Coffee is celebrating their 100 year anniversary. 

My jaw dropped, and my heart started to race. I immediately went into research mode. I spent an hour researching Mavis Bank Coffee and then went up to the room to give him a call in hopes that he would be open to an interview.

To my shock, Norman answered on the second ring. I explained what I was doing with my blog and Instagram and he said in typical Jamaican fashion “No problem! Call me back at 3:30 and I’d be happy to do an interview.” I was elated. I went from my day feeling like a total fail to what felt like winning the jackpot. Martinez and Mr. R had come through in a way I could never have imagined.

I ran back downstairs to where my bro was waiting by the pool and told him the news and then sat down to continue my research before the interview. I went back to the room and set up my area to record and take the interview.

This was my first international interview, so I practiced recording on my cell. Unfortunately, I had to capture my audio separately because the screen record did not have audio. I was all set and ready to go. When the interview started I was in shock. I was doing it, part of my dream is interviewing people in the coffee industry, and it felt amazing! Mr. Grant had such great energy, it felt like talking with an uncle. He was wearing a vibrant Jamaica-toned yellow and had a smile that told me he was proud to share his product. Shortly after beginning, he excitedly grabbed his phone and walked me over to his lab. It was like an episode of Bill Nye or Mr. Rogers. The lab was vibrantly colored, a perfect backdrop to conduct the interview. With cups of coffee already set up at the table, he grabbed a tray of beans and poured them out to set the scene. This was nothing I could have expected, but it was fun.

Mr. Grant shared his knowledge on the rich history of coffee and that Mavis Bank Coffee Factory would  be implementing and providing support to farmers through education and training, which will help farmers to cultivate more profitable crops and help them to better support their families.

I took a few notes, but because he was so engaging, I let the recording do most of the work and decide to stay present and interact. At the end of the interview he insisted that I come and visit the factory on my next visit to Jamaica. I said thank you and signed off. Immediately I wanted to review all of the great footage. To my horror, when I pressed play, there was no audio. I went completely numb. I played it a few more times to be certain but nothing changed. I’m not sure if it was the acoustics or the WiFi but it was inaudible.

This trip was not what I planned, but I won. No glitz, no glamor, no ease. Although some things went as planned, my coffee experiences did not. The Blue Mountain Bicycle tour that I waited all year for was canceled last minute. I didn’t get to visit Cafe Blue and enjoy a beautiful mountain side view while sipping an exquisite cup of coffee. I didn’t get to visit a coffee plantation and pick coffee cherries from the coffee plants in my home country.  I did not get a chance to soak up the sand and sun and bless my locks in the Jamaican sea. 

While I missed out on these planned adventures, ultimately I got so much more from this trip. I got to meet Colonel Marcia “Kim” Douglas,  of the Charles Town Maroons and she rubbed clove and ganja oil into my locks. I bonded with my little brother, and I’m so proud I got to witness and feel the support of his brilliance, kindness, and leadership in action. I connected with family over art and a delicious home cooked meal. I became a new version of myself that the old me wouldn’t recognize, and only I could find. I challenged myself, and challenged my insecurities. I made friends through discomfort and uncertainty, I found peace in chaos. I found grit.  I did not give up when things got hard and inconvenient. I learned a lesson that I will never have to learn again. I freed myself of expectations and opened myself up to flexibility, wonder, positivity and hope.

So to whatever is next on this coffee journey, I’m going to sip it slowly and enjoy all of its flavors. I’m ready.

As I sat here writing this, I was overcome with intense emotions. This trip to my beautiful country of Jamaica was overwhelming and beautiful. I can’t wait to continue on and explore all things coffee with you.  So come along, and grind with me as I explore these honey brews.

Peace, Love, and Coffee

✌️💜☕