In a few days I'm off to the notorious Hedonism ll resort in Negril, Jamaica.

I really, really don't want to go, of course. Like any good Canadian, I'd much rather stay here, dutifully freezing my dimpled ass off through the long, cold, brutal Canadian winter.

Enduring and surviving the Canadian winter makes us Canadians strong. And is supposed to make me a better woman.

So it seems almost treasonous to go hang out in the hot Caribbean sun with a bunch of naked people and palm trees, drinking free booze and smoking ganja, when I could stay here in Canada becoming a better woman.

But a higher, writerly duty calls. The world has overdosed on Afghanistan and Copenhagen, now it needs to know what goes on behind the innocent palm trees and under the mirrored ceilings at Hedo ll.

When duty calls, Sam answers.

I've been to Hedo (that's what we old hands call it) half a dozen time before. (See a much earlier blog here, and my book, My Life In The Great Sexual Window, Chapter 53, Honey Trap). Now I'm going to write about it again in my next book. And, when asked, I'm going to have to confess that I'm not there just for the sun, sand and sex

I don't know what to expect when I stroll down to the nude beach my first morning.

There's likely to be two different reactions once word of the book gets around.

People who previously only respected me for my still-spectacular body and ability to drink as much as any two men without showing damage, will look at me in a new way.

They'll realize I'm more than just a good-looking, streaked-blonde, middle-aged pair of 36 DDs, rather often found hanging at the nude hot tub around midnight.

Maybe they'll respect me as a real writer and be very nice to me so I'll feature them in my new book and they'll become famous and envied in such places at Podunk (wherever the hell that is) and Come By Chance, which is in Newfoundland.

Or maybe terror will stalk the place. What if I write about them doing the usual naughty things in the nude hot tub and under the mirrored ceilings and they become infamous and despised in such places as Podunk and Come By Chance, Newfoundland?

Here's my promise, which I'll repeat if you and I should run into each other at Delroy's bar on the nude beach.

Between the beer and the ganja and my own predilection for having a flaming good time — particularly when the sun pours down like honey and I'm surrounded by naked people — I'm certain to forget unimportant little details like names.

Instead, I'll use pseudonyms and just write about the palm trees and the nude beach and the parties and the games and the nude hot tub and the mirrored ceilings and such.

And I have no doubt I'll be a better woman for it.


(Samantha Jones is the nom de plume of a Canadian TV journalist whose book, My Life In The Great Sexual Window, is published by Amazon and Lulu.com).

Some delicious and very undiplomatic excerpts from a farewell report to the British Foreign Office from retiring British High Commissioner to Canada, Lord Moran, back in 1984.

It's titled "Last Impressions of Canada" and much of it remains relevant today.

• Prime Minister Trudeau treated provincial premiers with contempt and provincial governments as if they were town councils.

• Main reason for Canadians joining political parties is to acquire power or a lucrative job. So political patronage flourishes. Politics runs on “jobs for the boys.”

• Level of debate in the House of Commons is low: the majority of Canadian ministers are unimpressive and a few we have found frankly bizarre.

 • The Canadian public expects very little from politicians and tends to shrug its shoulders when the press or television report yet another scandal.

• Canadians are a moderate, comfortable, people … very sensitive, especially to any expressed or implied British sneers about Canada as “boring", and perhaps somewhat lacking in self-confidence.

• Anyone who stands out at all from the crowd tends to be praised to the skies and given the Order of Canada at once.

• Canadians have squandered some of their resources. Clearly they have regarded them, in this vast country, as limitless. But they are wrong.

• Inuit are mere pensioners of the state. Canadians are filled with feeling of guilt about the Indian people. Canadian policy has been to give them a special privileged status and pay them vast subsidies which often cause them to give up working.

However, Lord Moran was generous enough to add "We shall miss in their different ways, the cry of the loon, as characteristic of Canada as the fish eagle's is of Africa, and the cheerful shopgirls and waitresses…who send us on our way with 'Take care' or 'Have a nice day'."

His Lordship's report ends:

I am Sir,
Yours faithfully,
Moran


(Samantha Jones is the nom de plume of a Canadian TV journalist whose erotic memoir, "My Life In The Great Sexual Window", can be downloaded from www.lulu.com or Amazon.)