Trip Duration: April
14-18
Booked only three days prior to departure. I was using
Jamaica as a medium to travel to Cuba. Knew nothing about the country or
its resorts. I read about Hedonism and called over five travel agencies.
GoClassy was far and away, the cheapest.
A 12-hour layover allowed me a pricey, but enjoyable night
out in Miami's South Beach. Talk about eye candy. But, the food,
drink, and hotel were obscenely overpriced. On to the airport, where the
300 plus American Airline Air bus was overbooked and not even a $500 voucher
could bribe us into postponing Hedo another five hours. Landed in Jamaica
and negotiated the minefield of vendors and scammers to find the Super Clubs
desk. Hedo Rick's advice proved quite beneficial here, as throughout much
of the trip. Didn't mind tipping the bus driver and his luggage helpers.
Made me wonder if there were other people I should have been tipping throughout
the week, and I just did not realize.
Anyway, we were struck by the poverty and beauty of the
island nation across the much-detoured highway, leading to Negril. Stopped
at a Tiki hut for a $3 beer. Out of legal concern, was afraid to purchase
local herb at the roadside bar. Almost killed by a car going 100 mph on
the wrong side of the road as I reentered the bus. Other Hedo-regulars
were more than eager to answer our questions during the ride. Still, they
seemed "normal". Surely, these weren't the crazy, naked ones. The
true Hedo-ers I expected. Assuming they were all prudes, I was careful to
ask purely, aboveboard questions.
Finally arrived. Our apprehension and curiosity at an
all-time high, we filled out forms in a rather plain lobby. Where was the
debauchery? The madness? The hedonism? Got my first drink.
It was weird, doing so without tipping. They weren't kidding about the
"all-inclusive" thing. I've been to all-inclusive bars and hotels in
Cancun where you need to tip AT LEAST a dollar per drink to get looked at.
Went to my prude room, then walked around a bit. Only a small handful of
people on this side. Surely, this couldn't be it. Decided to check
out the beach. Immediately, BAM. There it was. Nudity.
On the prude side, eight guys and two perfect females, all nude, playing V-ball.
Only one guy and Taz, (Entertainment dude) were wearing trunks. I sat on
the table, waiting for the next game. I tried to pretend that the nudity
did not startle me.
All the disclaiming posts on this site had me believe that I
wouldn't see breasts aged less than 50 on the whole trip. Well, I had only
seen two sets and they were perfect, with well-complemented bodies. The
bodies couldn't have been over 30 years old, and the breasts no older than five
or six.
Well, on the last point of the game, the clothed gentleman
fell to the sand. I ran over to help, and saw the most gruesome sight of
my entire life. For no apparent reason, his big toe had detached itself,
facing perpendicular to his foot, while only a bone stub remained. Not a
great event to walk off the bus to. We lifted the guy onto a truck where
he slowly and painfully made his way back to Montego Bay, and ultimately, to an
emergency room in Miami. Sickened by the sight, no one could really speak.
But in the first of only two mild, but poignant, anti-prude comments of the
trip, a nude teammate remarked, "That's what happens to you guys in trunks."
(Keep in mind, this was the prude Vball court.) Not the welcome or omen I
was looking for in the first ten minutes of my Hedo experience.
A little gun-shy, I returned to my room, turned the key in
the lock, and there, most of it remained. Broken in half, inside the
keyhole, for the next three hours. Locked out of my room, I resolutely
vowed that these would not be the defining moments in my trip. And they
were not. (Neither was the broken locker when I finally made it in.)
While I waited for security, a friendly and nameless pool boy proffered a tour
of the grounds. The tour included over a pound of choice herb for the
price of a carton of generic smokes back in the states. First, he offered
me a lifetime supply, still on the vine for 40 bucks. Only having booked
for 3 days, I took a half-lifetime supply for $20. Things were looking up
and never looked down again.
In the interim, I met a nice, young Canadian couple, about my
age (24). It seemed everyone was from Toronto. By 8:00, I had drank
and smoked myself into a pleasant four-hour coma. This nap become my
routine everyday for the rest of the trip. I awoke, and hit the disco,
drinking and partying for the rest of the night. After two hookers hit on
me, I had convinced myself that the resort was full of them and feared any
sexual contact for the night. Having lost my friend around and our only
remaining key around 3 am, I walked over to the nude side. Careful to
respect the protocol, but quite bashful, I disrobed for the first time and
scanned the hot tub for him. No luck. But, as I walked away, (nude,
mind you) a rude comment was uttered in my direction, something to the effect of
me being an unwelcome tourist. I only mention these things so others might
think. Sure, I may have looked like a perv scoping chicks, but some
respect.
To a nervous, first-timer like me, much is made of small
comments. It's all we have to go on. Try to put negative past
experiences aside, and assume the other person is shy, not a pervert. Once
I acclimated to the nude, jacuzzi world, I was the one shunning unwanted sexual
contact, not the other way around. But in the beginning, with everyone
seeming to know each other, and them having a partner, it can be an intimidating
setting. The first time on "that" side is much like a first grader running
an errand into an 8th grade classroom.
Luckily, the next day, a friend from the bus found me on the
prude side and walked me over to the nude side. He introduced me to
everyone. This made all the difference. With some liquid and
chemical aid, I faced and conquered my discomfort, making good friends.
From there, it was a great trip and a great experience. A couple married
women were kind enough to "welcome" me into the hottub, and I was amazed at how
normal and surreal things could be at the same time. After a short time, I
felt comfortable. I met many friends. Two Las Vegas females, my age,
definitely improved the trip. It may have been the greatest trip of my
life. Everyday better than the previous.
So many highlights. Some I will leave out to protect
the innocent. Others I am leaving out because as I write this, 2 weeks
later, the whole trip has blurred into one liquid, ganja-laden hodgepodge of an
evening. Learned to windsurf. Snorkeled and wall-climbed. Had
a great time on the sailboats. One day, I asked an EC if I could jump on
the trampoline. He said I was far too drunk. So, I sat there in his
company, and smoked two monster-Marley joints. An hour later, I asked to
do the trapeze thingie, and he said yes. Severely bruised and minorly
severed my foot on the bar the swingihng bar, but never felt it. (They
aren't kidding about those drinking warnings. It should extend to the
severely stoned.) Had a great evening in one of the private hottubs on the
prude side. Was fortunate enought to assist a couple different people on
"tasteful" photo shoots on the prude side. Went down the waterslide til my
shoulder blades bled. That's how you get real speed.
On the last night, at the disco, I made it a point to talk to
everyone I was afraid to over the first few nights. And without exception,
everyone said they had wanted me to approach them, sooner. (I was very
lucky that the place was at low occupancy and I seemed to see and recognize the
same people, daily.) I had already extended and postponed my Cuba trip
twice. Should have stayed a week.
I was so paranoid (a combination of my ganja I.V. and a
scathing message from a member of this site) of being typecast a Vinny that I
never approached anyone, or initiated anything, or took more than five pictures.
Sort of a shame, but it was still a phenomenal trip. Experienced two types
of Vinnies. The overconfident type, that is over-assertive, and there at
Hedo to bang and bang (can't really blame them). They were the squash
instructors et al. There were a few of them during my trip, and I can
understand why they are undesirable.
But then there is another kind. And often it's tough to
tell them apart. The second kind goes there, hoping to get laid because
they don't in real life. They put on a facade of arrogance, but when that
fails, they get really desperate and possibly, after a few cocktails, clingy.
For the most part, people that get laid here in reality end up getting laid
there at Hedo for the same reasons. And conversely, those who don't get
sex here, don't get it there for the same reasons. These poor guys, whose
only deficiency is that they are socially retarded and a little horny, end up
hurt, disillusioned, and disappointed. They think that this mystical
Anthrax-like place will be some sort of sexual panacea. And it's not,
because the insecurities are not diminished but magnified in that type of
environment. One in which everyone is naked, and seemingly comfortable,
and well-acclamated to the social nuances of the nudist culture.
But, for all its wonder and sexual bliss, Hedo is not all
that much different from the states, or wherever we are escaping from.
Like in real life, the only time I found sex at Hedo was when I wasn't looking
for it. Talking about baseball or sincerely asking about someone's hobbies
and hometown; that's when BJs were planted on me. On the prowl, hoping and
seeking for action, I got nada. Luckily, I didn't look that much.
Still, not all are saints. One New Yorker was so overly
possessive and desperate with every girl. At one point, in the disco, when
I was dancing with 2 girls, he clenched on to my arm and rudely and quite
physically pleaded with me to "share the wealth". But, those cardboard
caricatures of stereotypes were not the norm.
I guess what I'm saying is, next time, seek out that lone
single guy (girls are sought enough). Chances are that he's not weird,
just shy and a bit intimidated. Try him out. If he's a truly
obnoxious Vinny, Fuck him (figuratively). But, he's probably just feeling
out of place and looking for an opening. Once you get past the fact he's
shy and/or horny, you just may meet a cool person, one that you wouldn't mind
inviting over for more.
If I go back again, I'll make an effort to leave the grounds.
I never did, not even one excursion or walk for one second. Like so many
other things, just never got around to it. Any suggestions for the next
time. Also, as I mentioned, I slept everyday from 8pm til around
midnight, did I miss much? Thanks. Hope you enjoyed reading the
report.