Not-so-magnificent tunnel in Mile Gully

Screech! The sudden stop caused me to rock forward rather violently, but I didn't mind much, since it appeared I had finally found what I was looking for.

It wasn't exactly what I was expecting though. In fact, I was downright confused.

You see, about a week earlier, while I was standing inside a shop owned by a talkative shoemaker in Port Maria, St Mary, a woman walked in. She had a pointy nose and wore a red and black scarf on her head. We started talking about shoes but somehow ended up discussing what she said was a magnificent old tunnel in Mile Gully, Manchester.

"It pretty, man. Nice, nice. Yuh never see nothing like dat inna yuh life. Mi know dat. Is down there mi come from, so mi know," she said.

"It deh deh from inna di slavery times. Foreigner shoulda come look pon it more time, but is true dem nuh know bout it."

Now I had never seen the tunnel she was talking about, but she did make it sound quite special. That's why I decided to take a drive out to Mile Gully to find it and have a look for myself.

By the woman's account, I expected something spectacular. What I was looking at though, wasn't all that impressive.

I hopped out of the car to get a better look.

There was a railway track that ran directly through it but the tunnel was so small, I wondered what kind of train would fit. I paused a moment, wondering if I was in fact in the right place. By the directions the woman in St Mary gave me, I was.

I looked around. There was a whole lot of green grass and bushes around. No houses or any other buildings though. It was so silent, the sound of my shoes hitting the pavement as I walked seemed extremely loud.

Did I really drive all the way for this? I had to have been missing something, so I decided to go right up to the tunnel. I was walking on the railway tracks when suddenly someone yelled out.

"Mi seh mine di sinting drop pon mi head!" It was a man's voice, coarse and angry.

Another voice responded, this one from a man with a stutter.

"Deh-den yuh tink tink mi ah foo-foo, yuh tink mi ah idiot?"

No one in sight

I looked behind me where the voices seemed to have been coming from, but saw no one. Then came a steady, humming sound, like a chainsaw. With all the bush and overgrown grass and trees, I couldn't see beyond a few feet in any direction. So for all I knew, the men, who were apparently working to cut something or the other with a chainsaw, could have been anywhere.

"Mine mi foot!" the coarse voice yelled again.

"Mi-mi-nah-nah go talk to to yuh again," the other man responded.

I continued on my way to the tunnel and when I got there, gave it a good look-over. I mean, it was nice enough, I suppose, but certainly no example of architectural mastery, if you ask me. Then again, it may have suffered only from oversell on the part of the St Mary woman.

After a few minutes, the sound of the chainsaw started getting to me, so I decided to go.

Back on the road and about five steps from my car, I heard someone behind me.

"Eem ... ." the person said. I turned around. It was a fellow with freckles on his nose and forehead. He was about five feet tall and had very narrow eyebrows.

"Eeem, is yuh-yuh come fi fix di-di machine?" he said.

I told him he had it wrong and, without saying another word, he turned his back to me and started walking off.

"Wait!" I shouted. He stopped and turned around. I told the man with the freckles that I was in the area to see the tunnel and asked if he knew anything about it.

"Tunnel?" he said.

"Yeah," I replied and pointed to it.

"Oh. Den yuh left town fi look pon dat?" he asked.

Sheepishly, I admitted that was indeed the case.

The man chuckled. "It nuh look too bad still. It it deh deh from long time. Yuh can teck pitchka," he said.

I asked him if anyone else had ever come to Mile Gully just to look at the tunnel.

"No sah!" he responded, all too too eagerly.

"Wid dem yah gas price, man woulda haffi have more reason fi drive so far dan fi look pon tunnel," he laughed.

I had no comeback.

Where should Robert go next? Let him know at robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com