The hills of St. Andrew

Where I did a hill start

The city of Kingston is embraced by hills: small hills, tall hills, steep hills, gently sloping ones. They reach higher as we look up to the Blue Mountains, where you might see the old colonial era military camp at Newcastle strung along a ridge, like tiny little white toy houses with red roofs. Up there the air is sweet. The hills and mountains of St Andrew, which is the adjoining parish to the City of Kingston proper, are now partly “suburbanised.”

I would say “green hills” but sadly they are not very green, these days. On some sides, they are very much built up. There are mansions up there (including the Prime Minister’s). And plenty of them, perched on the edge, some propped up with retaining walls, others with almost impossibly steep driveways. I would not like to be in one of them during an earthquake. But for some Kingston residents, at least, in order to be one of the upper classes you need to go - literally - up.

Talking of driving, I ventured on one of the very steep hills during my lesson this week. Half way up, my instructor, the sometimes genial Mr. M, told me to “stop!” He always says this word in a certain tone of voice. I knew what was coming. I pulled up the hand brake. I passed with flying colours, as a car crept up cautiously behind me, with the driver thinking “Uh oh… A learner driver, doing a hill start! Beware!”

I felt good, and Mr. M beamed at me. But then, I have done all this before. These are supposed to be “refresher” classes, but I feel like a real first-time learner, sometimes.

Fingers crossed for the rest of my course. I have a feeling there are more hills to climb…

A bit of our green hills that still has zero mansions. This is actually called Wareika Hill. (My photo)