Why is this retreat so special?
I wanted to write a short piece to describe why, and how, Mel’s Botanical Retreat captured our hearts after our visit in March 2024.
Sunset in Jamaica
It was a bumpy adventure on the hill up to Kentucky, Jamaica; the rugged road is not for the fainthearted but, if you persist, you will easily make it – just have faith in the directions that Kiara has provided (and, I have been informed, DO NOT SHOUT at the person driving your car whenever he hits a pothole. Apparently, this doesn’t help at all).
Weaving around the holes, staring in wonder at the lush, burgeoning growth pressing in on either side, waving to people walking up or down the hill – including a gaggle of schoolchildren in their immaculate uniforms – dodging rogue chickens and the obligatory honking of horns by way of greeting other cars, was a memorable experience.
We parked the top of the hill underneath the telecoms mast, as instructed by Kiara’s notes, and made our way down the path, slightly uncertain as to where we were supposed to go. Several friendly locals pointed us in the right direction, as Kiara came running in welcome – we were several hours early and had caught her unawares, but she assured us this didn’t matter and everything was ready for us.
Our cabin, the Blue Mahoe, was charming, spacious and comfortable. George immediately ensconced himself on the veranda and vowed not to move. You can’t access the cabins by vehicle, so I would suggest packing a small bag of essentials, rather than hauling a large suitcase with you – we left most of our belongings in the car, where they were perfectly safe – and you really don’t need much in such a relaxed environment.
George went to the local bar – despite his previous commitment to not moving from the veranda – and came back far less stressed than I had seen him in ages. Maybe a touch too relaxed…
The bar in Kentucky - spend time with the locals
Night falls quickly in this part of the mountains, and as the frogs croaked around us, we walked (truth be told, I walked, George staggered) to Mel’s Kitchen and Bar, thankful for the torches provided in the cabin, before the welcoming lights of the kitchen lit the rest of the way for us. The all-wooden building is incredibly cosy at night, and Kiara had prepared a delicious meal, which we enjoyed with bottles of the ubiquitous Red Stripe.
On returning to our cabin, we spent a mesmerising few hours on the veranda, watching the fireflies light up the darkness and listening to the sounds of the tropics, before retreating to bed. It is cool in the mountains, no air conditioning required, and within seconds of hitting the pillow, George was snoring happily. Something snuffled around our veranda, probably investigating the strange and disturbing racket of sawing wood from our cabin. I have no idea what the creature was, but it seemed benign – if rather large and clumsy – and before I knew it, we were waking up to morning noises of the forest.
Breakfast was lovely, with fried plantain, cheese bagel and vegetables, but the true revelation was the coffee, which is harvested, roasted and ground on the retreat. It has a caramel, almost fermented taste, and I crave it as I type this. The sunlight poured through the open windows, refracting off the glass ornaments dotted around the eaves, casting rainbows over us as we watched the humming birds zip around the flowers outside.
We went for a walk to the top of the hill and met Kiara’s grandfather, Ozzy, and had a long chat with him about living in Kentucky, farming and life in general. The views from the hill are astonishing – jungle and sea as far as the eye can make out – and a far cry from the crowded, generic tourist bustle of the coastal resorts.
This beautiful beach is just a short drive away, or make a day of it and walk down the hill for a much deserved swim
That evening, before dinner, we went to the bar again, and watched the village boys play cricket on the dirt square. Their game was slightly complicated by small children running across the road, the interruption of the occasional car, the by now familiar rogue chickens making impromptu dashes during play, and the ball rolling down the steep hill, with ensuing arguments as to who should fetch it. The cricket game and the friendliness of the locals made for one of the most enchanting evenings we’ve had in a long time.
We only stayed a few nights before making our way to Negril, which was a very different (but still enjoyable) experience. After staying in Mel’s Botanical Retreat, chatting with Kiara, talking to people in the bar and some of the soundest sleep we’ve had in years, we know that we have fallen in love with the retreat, its gentle and courageous owner, and the entire village of Kentucky, high, high up in the Jamaican hills.
Emily, 2024