For four days during the hot month of August 2007, my sister, Shea, and I decided to take a trip down into the Caribbean for some relaxation. We had left early one morning and waited in the Logan Airport, located in Boston, Massachusetts, for what had seemed like hours. There were tens of thousands of people there, everyone looking for their missing luggage or saying goodbye to loved ones. We were there waiting for an extravagant trip on the beautiful white sand beaches of Jamaica. Finally, we had boarded our flight and were on our way. After about 7 hours of uncomfortable flight, we had landed in what seemed to be a paradise.
As soon as we stepped outside the glass doors of their airport, the crisp air hit us with a scent of sea salt. There were palm trees hovering above us, almost touching the sky, which had not a cloud in it. Many people, locals and tourists, we walking around and enjoying what was right in front of them; the beauty of the earth.
After enjoying the view for about ten minutes, our cab had arrived to take us to our hotel destination. The ride was there was quite hectic and long, but we had finally made it. The whole way there I was thinking of how nice our resort would look and how many smiling faces I would see there. However, when we got to our far away destination, all I saw in front of me was a small, outdoor motel, sitting across the street from the beach, with an unevenly hung banner that had displayed the name, The White Sands. I was reluctant to walk in but Shea had convinced me that it wouldn’t be too bad. We walked into our small room with an even smaller bathroom and just one large bed. On the wall was a slimy, yellow slug which kept me up at night. Even though our living arrangements were minimal, Shea and I had enjoyed every minute we spent on that beautiful island.
Through the next couple of days, we had eaten every delicacy we could find, and we had swum in every ocean we had seen. The waters were the perfect temperature and the sun was always blazing right down on us. The food was delectable and had burst flavour with every bite we had taken. During our travels, we had come across a waterfall that tourists were allowed to climb up. Shea had convinced me to try it and so I did. On the way up I had almost fallen down a number of times and succeeded in almost pulling my sister down with me once. It was thrilling and dangerous, but it was also fun and exciting. I had seen a lot of local vendors around the island as well. Many Jamaicans were selling art and sculptures that they had made along with interesting memorabilia.
For such a small country full of poverty, Jamaica had taught me a lot. The people of the island had such large hearts and they had all appreciated the land that surrounded them. The locals there inspired me to be a better and more appreciative person. Also, the scenery of the land had inspired me in artistic ways. I had gone home and created many pieces relating to my trip. Because of this trip, I want to travel again and see other parts of the world, more beautiful than I, or anyone, can imagine.
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