Jamaica has a stereotype of being laid back, totally relaxed and full of Bob Marley memorabilia. After visiting the island, I realised that this wasn't actually a stereotype, but an acute and insightful piece of cultural observation. As soon as I left the plane and began navigating my way through the airport, the first thing I heard was Jamming by saint Bob himself.

The locals who live in the north of the island are also astonishingly casual and slow in everything they do. Walking too fast means you're clearly trying to run away from something, attempting to ensure you get to your transfer on time means that clearly you're a jolly foreigner who doesn't know a good life when he sees one. All of this may be true, but that doesn't help when you're in a taxi doing 15 mph while the driver is practically asleep in the front listening to, yes you guessed it, Redemption Song by king Bob.

After arriving in Ochos Rios I was surprised by the continued commonwealth feel of the place. Policeman still dress like 19th century East India Company troops and most buildings look like they could do with a lick of paint or two. But I was enchanted by the surroundings and immediately felt at home. Jamaica may be frustrating at first, but it's very friendly and comfortable to wander around in.

After a few days of Jamaican relaxation I set about taking the short bike ride up to the Dunn's River Falls. Biking is very popular with tourists on the island and there's always one poor chap walking back down the hill towards Ochos Rios with a mangled frame and a grimace. It appears that many visitors over estimate their biking ability when trying to navigate the fearsome hills.

Safely arriving at the falls, I bought my ticket and made my way to the entrance. Tickets cost $15 (£8) and you can spend as long as you want on the falls, because unsurprisingly the guides aren't known for their swiftness! After I followed the path down to the bottom of the waterfall I waited with the rest of the group to proceed up the falls. There are two routes that you can take, one for people who aren't feeling too energetic and another crazy one. Electing for the crazy one, I joined hands with the rest of the group and followed the guide into a wall of water.

Once on the trail to the top of the river, it's easy to see the footholds and paths that have been naturally worn away by the water. As I turned I noticed that the guide seemed to be occupied with pulling a participant from a rather deep hole, perhaps signalling that he wasn't quite up for the walk. I decided to head off on my own, much to the dismay of the guide who began to yell as he saw his tip wandering off into the distance.

At first all seemed to be well, I was enjoying clambering up the rocks and getting seriously drenched by the falling gallons. But I eventually caught up with the next tour group led by an extremely enthusiastic individual. "Yo, Man, YO! You," he exclaimed. I nodded and made my way towards him, "you should have a group fella, join mine". Moments after that we reached the plunge pool and the guide stopped us at the rock that hangs over the deep well of water.

"Right, who's plunging in with me?" People glanced to the floor, or took in the spectacular view in the completely wrong direction just to avoid eye contact. It was obvious who he was going to pick. "Come on then young man, lets go," the guide proclaimed, grabbing me by the arm. I could have said no, I guess no one would have judged, but for some reason the possibility of breaking my neck or back didn't occur to me. We both fell backwards into the plunge pool, around a seven foot drop, and crashed into the abyss. When I surfaced I couldn't breath, but my limbs were intact and the guide had the biggest smile on his face. He did it about eight times a day, who was I?

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