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What is ‘haven’, is it paradise, is it the ultimate idyllic place, or is it home? Haven for me is a petite yet charming Jamaican neighbourhood of Southaven, St Thomas. Southaven is in the equally small yet charming town of Yallahs, situated on Jamaica’s south-east coast; a single karat of a 7-karat uncut gem that is St Thomas parish. Each karat has its own name and distinctive characteristics. The towns of Bath, Golden Grove, Morant Bay (St Thomas’s capital), Port Morant, Seaforth, are the other 6 idiosyncratic karats. Bordered by palm trees, black sands and rolling green hills with black sand and green rolling hills. Southaven is a place all its own, it’s eloquently quaint, the climate is tropical, and the faces are as friendly as their general conversation. Part of my family tree is planted in Southaven; my family foundations can be found here. Over time, family stories allowed me to curate an image of ‘haven’ in my mind. My curiosity began from the age of 9 years old. When my maternal grandparents made the decision to return home. They’d arrived in the West Midlands during the post-Windrush migration of the 1960s; they worked raised and built. By 1994 they were tired and decided to retire. They went and their children and grandchildren followed for brief trips, whilst they remained. For a latchkey kid the simplicity of this place, was mind-blowing, initially. The shift from one small greyish island to another which brightly coloured, was somewhat of a culture shock, however over time I’ve acclimated to this low-key way of living. Now I find myself exploring and navigating the landscape amongst its ten thousand inhabitants. Over the past twenty-plus years, I’ve scaled large rocks, jumped off waterfalls, and have had many a lost-cost yet high-end adventures along the St Thomas coast. My base in Southaven is my maternal grandparents' beach-adjacent bungalow. Here the days are mellow and the nights, depending on where you find yourself are livelier. In Southaven, the call of the cockerel and natural sunlight are the standard alarms to wake up to. Depending on your mode of transport, the ninety-minute drive from Kingston to Southaven is a unique sightseeing tour. Travellers have an opportunity to view alternative parts of the country. It’s a neighbourhood of fragmented beauty, locals mix with ex-pats and tourists. I’ll always be eager and observational in a place like this. Whilst the Southaven is quiet at times; the main high street is always booming with activity, both day and night. Necessities and amenities are both meet, with its storefronts and outdoor markets. A variety of amenities are catered to; everything from organic locally grown and reared foods, garments are sold alongside electrical appliances. At night the intoxicating scents of jerk meat and fried fish, fill the busy street. Varieties of heavy music from the areas many micro-bars add to the atmosphere. Once a year spring has commenced, the strong currents of the Caribbean Sea draw surfers from all corners of the world to the sandy black shores of Yallahs, for the annual surf tournament. Tent revivals jostle with Kumina meetings for attendees during the summer months. Excursions to other parts of Yallahs are a must; via a taxi, bus or guided tour; for example, the Yallahs’s twin salt ponds origins are an interesting tale of infidelity. Metropolitan winds of Kingston have blown beachfront hotels and cocktail bars for travellers looking for an alternative to the dependable B&B. This is my version of paradise is my idea of home, my very own little piece of paradise a place of exceptional happiness and delight. It’s not quite nakedness and languor, but it’s home to me all the same.