Colours of the rainbow...

Tomorrow I will be a coral bean. The last time I went diving was in Egypt with my Mum and Brother. The sign-language you are taught, can always be improvised upon. And after some interesting actions from my Mum, (hands a meter apart, pointing finger through OK sign, and universal shark symbol), I realised what she was getting at was rather rude, and that you can laugh underwater. Helen is in for a treat. Jamaica is a very diverse island. So far I have been swimming with dolphins, trekking through the rainforest up in the Blue Mountains, and seen This Means War. Going to the cinema in Jamaica is definitely a worthwhile experience. Everyone stands for the National Anthem, the idea of being quiet throughout the film does not register, and there is an interval about two-thirds of the way through where a heavy-red curtain closes off the screen. It makes your evening even more enjoyable, to know that when you laugh (and quite often in my case, snort) loudly, instead of feeling embarrassed, it joins the constant wave of noise and gives the impression (whatever your thoughts, and however far you've travelled) that you belong.

Cool runnings...

Today I am a baked bean. After being serenaded by a drunk Jamaican on Grolsch, listening to another man belt out his prayers, and watching a small toddler practice her sprinting between the aisles, we arrived. The first thing that hits you is the heat. And the second thing was Helen. (Not hitting, of course, but hugging.) We are about to head off to Port Royal, a small fishing village near downtown Kingston. The Rough Guide says it was once condemned as "the wickedest city on the earth". Luckily  we are wicked enough already, so won't be influenced.

Perhaps some whiskey is in order...

Today I will be a winged bean. (I promise to stop these awful bean-related comments soon.) So the next time I write some witty (just kidding) paragraph I will be in Kingston. After travelling on many planes, I realise now I will never totally curb my fear of flying. Whilst coming back from Cuba last year, the elderly man I was sitting next to clearly saw that I was not entirely comfortable, and so spent 30 minutes telling me the basic laws of physics in regards to an airplane, with diagrams I hasten to add. Apparently, the take-off is the safest part (apart from it not taking off of course), but that still did not solve my problem with the landing. I read in the Lonely Planet magazine recently that Ben Fogle has trained himself to fall asleep the moment he sits down on a plane, and does not wake up until the tires bump onto the runway. I wish now I knew his secret. Although, knowing him, the answer would be along the lines of perseverance.

Because everyone has to start somewhere...

Today I will be a runner bean. I signed up to the Edinburgh Half Marathon back in October, and after getting off to a speedy start pre-Christmas, I can't come up with the excuses fast enough. However, I am off to Jamaica on Friday to visit one of my oldest friends, and will be very angry at myself if I have not puffed and sweated away beforehand. So here goes. Let the blogging and the jogging begin.