A different kind of beach shade
The detail I kept coming back to at Charela Inn was the shade. On its stretch of Seven Mile Beach in Negril, coconut and palm trees are part of the welcome. When I asked the owner about them, he described a choice: grow shade rather than keep buying beach umbrellas. It is a small decision, but it opens a useful conversation about the things a hotel buys, maintains and eventually throws away.
“Coconut trees shade is more sustainable, it’s more natural,” he told me. “And of course it brings you fruit.” That is his explanation for the planting. It is not a measurement of the hotel’s total environmental footprint, and trees do not make a whole property plastic free. But it is an example I could stand underneath and understand.


What a tree changes, and what it does not
A living tree can provide shade for years. It still needs care, and palms beside guests need sensible maintenance. An umbrella can also last if it is well made and repaired. The question is not whether every manufactured object is bad. It is whether the next purchase is necessary, how long it will be used, and what happens when it wears out.
I liked that the owner had looked at the landscape before ordering another product. The beach was not just a place to arrange furniture. It was a place that could grow some of what guests needed. That same question can be asked at a much smaller scale: can we maintain, refill, repair or share what is already here before replacing it?
The disposable things are worth asking about too
Shade is only one part of hotel life. Drinks, toiletries, food deliveries and cleaning supplies all bring packaging with them. A traveller does not see every bin or every supplier, so a spotless beach cannot tell us where all the waste goes. It is better to ask how a property reduces disposable purchases and manages what remains than to assume the answer from a pretty photograph.
At a stay, I look for practical answers: refillable drinking water where the water is safe, dispensers that are actually refilled, durable cups and tableware, and a clear account of local waste collection. I also ask whether a change is routine throughout the property or a single gesture guests are shown. These are questions to put to a hotel, not claims that every item on this list has been independently audited here.
The island he remembers
The conversation became more personal when he described the Jamaica he knew as a child. “For those who are old enough, we’ll remember Harry Belafonte singing about the island of coconut and palm trees,” he told me. “That’s the image of Jamaica, our beach, full of coconut and tall banana trees. When we were kids, what I remember was all the coconuts and breadfruit trees.”
His planting carries that memory. It is a way of keeping trees in the picture while welcoming visitors to the coast. I heard affection for a landscape, and a wish for tourism to fit into it. That is what makes the story more interesting to me than a slogan about an eco beach.
A useful choice for a traveller
When choosing a stay, ask for specifics rather than a perfect promise. What has the hotel stopped buying? What does it repair? How does it handle water and waste? Who supplies the kitchen, and what evidence sits behind any certification it advertises? An honest answer can include work that is still to be done.
Charela’s owner showed me a choice he had made about shade, and explained why he values it. I can appreciate that choice without pretending a few palms solve every problem along the coast. For me, the useful lesson is the willingness to question a default and make a change that belongs to the place.
Explore the Charela Inn website for the property details, and read my visit to the farm that feeds the inn for the people and growing practices behind the kitchen. The trees on the beach are the beginning of this conversation. The better questions are what we take into the next stay.