A Trip to Crofts Hill in Clarendon Central Jamaica with Pictures
Several weeks ago I decided to make a very long Sabbath day trip into the heartland of the island in order to make some very important family connections and try to get in a church service while I was at it.
Firstly, I made the long trip to Kingston very early so that my daughter the student nurse could clock in early at the hospital, then without much ado turned 180 degrees to head for the Nelson Mandela Highway and the Bog Walk gorge in order to arrive early for worship at the Crofts Hill Seventh-day Adventist Church and visit with family.
An ancient Pharisee would have stoned me for covering so many miles on the day of rest and gladness. Leaving the Kingston Metropolitan Area behind us we looked forward to traversing the hills and valleys of St. Catherine into the uplands of Clarendon.
Crossing the infamous Flat Bridge, even on a cool weekend morning is always a tentative affair for me.
My son was so impressed with the mist over the Rio Cobre that I had to give him my phone to click away. As usual the road in the historic gorge was being repaired; I was impressed with the use of portable traffic lights. Interestingly enough there were signalers working alongside the lights. That should help employment.
The smell of the Windalco plant at Ewarton told me that Bauxite alumina refining had recommenced. But the most spectacular thing about the landscape was the break between the trees as you approached Lluidas Vale from the east. Suddenly before you the green plains with the vast cane fields and the softened blue of the mountains behind.
Carefully hugging the sharp curves we climbed up to the ridge district of Crofts Hill. The last of the mango season was still here and there beside the roadway. I was early enough to invite my sisters to attend church with my wife and son.
The preacher was a visiting Elder Brown who spoke in language couched to impact his rural audience. I was asked to do the pastoral prayer and later turned down the request to come back to conduct Bible class. We had to think of the long journey back to Manchester and the need to spend some quality time with my sisters in ironing out some family turning points.
Night was falling when we finally left the family home in Croft’s Hill. I wanted to take the shortcut through British but was convinced to go the long route through Spanish Town then on to Highway 2000.
My sister who was visiting form New Jersey said that it was her first time traveling on Highway 2000. We chatted about Jamaica’s own super highway at last.
