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Published: November 24th 2012
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The Santa Elena bus station at 6 a.m. is pretty empty. We had pre-purchased our tickets and all that was left to do was to check in. The inside of the bus station is only a couple of dilapidated benches and a bathroom, his and hers, neither of which had toilet seats. We were actually using a real bus line this time (think Greyhound) - - Linea Dorada. On time (AGAIN!!!), at 7:00am, the bus driver arrived and within a few minutes for loading, we were on our way - - but wait, we had to stop at the driver’s house and pick up his lunch and wait a few minutes down the road while he chatted with some friends. (We really should check our priorities in the U.S.) J
On the bus, we met an Italian couple, Guido and Lorena (wrong spelling, but close). They are from Sienna, where we have actually been and which is an absolutely, beautiful city. We love Italy, so we had something in common to chat about. Their English was not great, our Italian was worse, so we kinda met in the middle and filled in the blanks with Spanish. It worked fine! Both
of us couples were first-timers to Belize, so we talked about what we would be doing. We shared the sandwiches we purchased the night before for our breakfast on the bus. And they shared their bananas and cookies with us. It is funny how communication is really not that difficult even if you speak different languages... food always levels the playing field, as kindness does.
At the border between Guatemala and Belize, we were told to get out of the bus and take our packs to immigration. We had to pay some money to leave Guatemala. (Of course.) No one checked our bags, but they told us to walk across this bridge, into Belize, which we did. We were not allowed to ride the bus across the thirty foot bridge that divided these two countries. Across the bridge, we entered immigration for Belize. Having already filled out our forms, it took seconds to pass. No searches, no metal detectors, just walk through and have people welcome you and smile. The most interesting part of the transfer was all of the random people trying to get us to change money with them on the Belize side of the border. Knowing
well that we could freely use U.S. currency in Belize, we declined. Researching things ahead of time has its advantages!
Once back on the bus, it was a couple of hours with uneventful landscape and a strange change in infrastructure. You could tell that it was not quite as poor, right away. The electrical system (power poles and communication towers) were all far, far better than in Guatemala. We read the brochure we were given at customs and it said that the water is fine to drink and there are no restrictions on toilet flushing. YESSSSSS!!! English is the official language - - are we still in Central America?
Once in Belize City (which, according to most websites is pretty dangerous) we were dropped off at the water taxi area. Having just driven through Belize City, we will say that we would not recommend an extended stay there, at least from what we saw. We took the water taxi that was leaving the soonest (which had been touted by our bus driver - - can you say kickback?). Once our tickets were purchased, we were packed into a boat like sardines. And not in a really good and
tasty way! But, the weather was beautiful and the Caribbean Sea was a magnificent blue, so we smiled and made new friends, as we always do. Prior to departure, a young gentleman complained of claustrophobia - - apparently he did not do much homework; it did get him his own seat though! After the crew dealt with that issue, we were on our way to Caye Caulker (just one of the islands of Belize) (Caye is pronounced “Key”), Clay started chatting with a woman from Houston, and they had quite the conversation. Apparently Clay and her husband are two peas in a pod!
To say that Caye Caulker is small is an understatement. It has the most magnificent breeze we have ever experienced. (Perhaps Aruba is close!) The sea is blue, the people are friendly, and the motto is “go slow.” Lobster is everywhere and cheap. Clay will probably gain 50 pounds between the lobster and all the butter! The Island’s trade is tourism, but people do not hound you to buy things. It really is super laid back. The dress on the Island is more Americanized, with Lacoste shirts, big sunglasses and crock wannabe’s are everywhere.
When
we actually reached the docks and the awaiting taxies, there was a bit of a taxi war. However, after some name calling between cabbies and a small episode where our taxi backed into another, we were on our way to the Anchorage Hotel. When we arrived, we were met by nice folks (Rafael, Lucky and Jr.). The room was aged, but had best view in the entire world. It has a very hot shower, flushing toilet, a mini-fridge and A/C with remote!!! The only thing that disturbed us at the onset was a person spraying Lysol in our room when we were coming in. Later we figured out that the pipes are old and there is a funny smell. However, if you open the front door and the balcony door there is a most wonderful cross breeze that is absolutely clean, cool and refreshing. We keep them both open and no worry about bugs on the third floor (Ann complaining about steps and back-pack again)! There is no one at the hotel but us for today, so it is very quiet. BONUS!
After unloading our gear, we were off to find some lobster, so we asked our hotel host
for a recommendation - - Happy Lobster! Well, okay. Clay had the extra-large lobster and Ann the medium. It came with sides, but who could eat them! For those of you who don’t know, the lobster here is like Florida lobster (no claws). While sitting at the roadside table (road is packed sandy dirt), we saw so many notable things, we cannot write them all, but a few worth true mention, follow.
The self-named “Island Psychologist” randomly introduced himself as he stopped his bike to talk to us. He told us he specializes in mental illness treatment if we need anything (“weed”?) We thanked him for his information and as he left, he looked across the street and loudly said “fag boy” to someone who might have been gay. (We are not judging!) Hmmmmm… not feeing the love there!
We met one guy peddling (three wheeled vehicle) corn dogs and hot dogs, but unfortunately, his bike was missing a pedal and couldn’t pedal his bike. So technically, he was not a peddler, he was a pusher! HAHAHA! A nice Rastafarian fellow was walking by and Clay started talking to him about nothing, really, but happily nonetheless. After a
few minutes, Clay asked him if he was thirsty and offered him a watermelon juice we had ordered to taste. The Rasta was very happy and drank it all in no time flat. He wished us well and went about his way. Another guy randomly stopped to talk with us as well. He had on a chef’s hat and looked a bit like Fat Albert. He was peddling sweets. See photo. Clay bought one of everything (to be nice). Chef offered to cook us a Thanksgiving dinner and said he would deliver it to the hotel tomorrow. ($20)
Our lunch adventure took about 3 hours. No one cared! Clay decided we should rent a golf cart, so we did. The restaurant owner knew a guy who knew a guy and without leaving our table, we had a cart delivered to us! After lunch, we headed back to the hotel. We were so exhausted, so we lay down, and opened the doors. Palm trees swaying in the trade-wind breeze. Oops! We fell asleep, but who cares…..
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you - - Tim/Jesse, hope the first party went well! To our kids - - love and sloppy
kisses. To the rest of you who deserve it, we love and miss you all!!!
Even you, grumpy CK!
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