Leaving and arriving

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I was going to give up this blog a few weeks ago - too much hassle. A friend convinced me otherwise, suggesting that I would regret it later if I didn't finish the job. The more I thought about it, the more I realised what a great souvenir this blog would be in months to come as the memories fade. I also got to thinking that I hadn't really tried to capture what is felt like to be travelling around for so long. As night fell on my first night in Belize, it struck me that the previous 36 hours had encapsulated much of what travelling has meant to me: meeting new people, doing new things, the thrill of leaving and arriving, along with quite a bit of sitting around and sorting stuff out. So, here is 36 hours from my trip, Tamarindo in Costa Rica to San Pedro in Belize:

7.15am - wake up in my nice cabana in Tamarindo. Perplexingly enough, I feel hungover despite minimal alcohol consumption the night before. I check the list of things I need to do that I have stuck next to my bed before turning in (I can be extremely anal when I put my mind to it - I have included 'eat breakfast' on my list).
7.30am - I head into town to go to the bakery - it's become routine to seek out the best croissants upon arrival anywhere. 2 x sweet croissants, which I acquired a taste for in Argentina, and 1 x strong black coffee set me up for a spell on the throne as well as for the day the ahead.
9am - Check out, and phone calls to sort out a taxi and accommodation for the next day. Spanish holds up well, although the guy on the other end finishes the call with 'Have a nice day!' in English.
10am - meet up with my Peruvian surf instructor for one final lesson. He has had an interesting life, having previously lived rough on a beach in his native country. I regale him with stories of the mean streets of Bloomsbury, but he seems unimpressed. He helps me carry my enormous board to a far beach to avoid having one of his customers dashed on the rocks that lie off shore near his store.
11am - Manage to catch the face of a wave properly for the first time, as opposed to farting around inthe white water. A strange sensation, standing on a moving wall of water. I also manage to turn the board a couple of times without falling off. Hugely exhilerating.
11.30am - I decide to jack in the 2 hour lesson a bit early. A pain in my side means that I'm grunting alarmingly whenever I try to paddle, and I'm spending an increasing amount of time underwater.
Midday - say goodbye to my Peruano chum and the lady that gave me my first lesson a few days before. I got on really well with the latter, bumping into her occasionally in town or on the beach, and we part saying we'll see each other again (very unlikely). An awkward moment when we both consider a goodbye kiss to cement our friendship. I take matters into my hands in a very British way by nervously waving and running out of the door.
1pm - not hungry, but have to force a sandwich down because I'm unsure of when I'll next be eating. I watch a bunch of American frat boys strutting around with their shirts off, downing beer and generally being obnoxious (none of these things in themselves are a cause for approbation in a surfing town - they just look like assholes). I wonder if one grenade would be sufficient to wipe them out. I notice that one of their number is quite fat, but has enormous biceps: I suspect he has been working out exclusively on this one set of muscles in the gym, probably because he has a very low IQ and a very small penis.
1.30pm - some time on the internet dealing with a half-witted B&B proprietor in Florida. I'll be arriving over the 4th July holiday period, and finding reasonable accommodation is proving a pain in the arse. At least I don't have to go through the rigmarole of faxing copies of my credit card and other forms, which I've had to do on many occasions previously.
2pm - get picked up by my bus for the 6 hours journey to San Jose. The mini van has a DVD player, and they put on the latest Herbie movie. I try very hard to dislike it, but am won over. A car with a personality! Who would have thought it?
4pm - rest stop, thankfully. I am yelping every time the bus goes over a pothole because of aforementioned rib problem. There are lots of potholes in Costa Rica. A stunning American lady starts talking to me. Two ungainly looking Swedes from my bus try to muscle in on the conversation, but they're too nerdy to make an interesting contribution. The lady is a psychologist who is moving to New York after her holiday in Costa Rica. I try to sound charming and regret instantly not asking for her number before getting back into my bus. Probably a good thing - she did seem a bit unhinged (at least she'll be able to treat herself).
8pm - get to San Jose and am dropped off at my lodgings following an interesting conversation with the driver about what it's like being a driver in Costa Rica (it involves lots of driving).
8.30pm - dinner at some local soda (Costa Rican restaurant / pub / fast food joint). Manage to order something inoffensive. I dive into the accompanying salad - I seem to be immune now to tummy rumbles. Could be famous last words.
9pm - an hour more of sorting stuff out on the internet and purging my wallet of receipts and other bits of crap.
10pm - watch CNN for a bit. The Democratic women of the Senate are being interviewed by Larry King, and the programme is predictably full of dull rhetoric. Hillary Clinton looks especially smug. I do like Larry King, though. He has a knack for asking the questions that I would. He may be reading my mind. One of the many problems with CNN is its over-commercialisation. I watched Larry King once with a panel of three doctors. All were shamelessly plugging their books. Larry plugged the progamme to follow, and that journalist plugged his book in the plug for his programme. Back to Larry King, who plugged his own book. Roll credits. If only BBC World wasn't quite so shoddy...
3.30am - alarm goes off. I didn't bother getting undressed the previous night - removing clothes is proving problematic in my weakened state. All I have to do is stand up and walk out the door for the taxi to the airport.
4.30am - at the airport. Do all the boring airport stuff, and am overcome with rage at two rude Americans. One is suffering from airport panic, and is screaming 'I've lost my luggage' to anyone who'll listen (ie nobody). The other is berating one of the check-in staff. I listen to the converation and discover that the only barrier to her problem being sorted is her own stupidity.
5.30am - never one to pass up the opportunity for fast food, I opt for the Croissandwich in the Burger King in San Jose Airport. Vile in every way, just the name makes me feel like retching. It's like biting into a block of soft butter, and I vow never again to eat one of these culinary and linguistic aberations as I finish every last morsel.
7.30am - flight to El Salvador. Am sat next to the world's worst behaved child. He kicked me awake a moment ago. I run through the conversation in my head that I plan to have with his dad, but cannot be bothered with the confrontation. I suspect that the other passengers wouldn't be overly upset if I elbowed the little shit in the face.
8.30am - San Salvador airport. I need a cigarette, and spark up next to a bin that has one of those ashtray tops. A large bunch of American lads assume that I am marking the smoking area, and start smoking next to me. Soon a huge mushroom cloud forms over our heads.
10am - Arrive in Belize city after my second flight. Pass through customs with the minimum of fuss. One lady is crying because she is over-tired and incapable of filling out her entry form.
10.15am - buy a flight in the airport to San Pedro. Prior web surfing told me that this was the easiest way to get there. San Pedro is a town on a coral caye just off the coast of Belize.
10.40am - I clamber into the twin prop plane that takes me the short journey to Belize's local airport. I get into another small plane for the spectacular 15 minute journey to San Pedro. The two local flights have cost me less than many normal taxis have done in London.
11am - arrive in San Pedro. And relax. The place is tiny, with golf carts replacing cars and trucks as the favoured mode of transport. I walk 20m from the plane to the door of my hotel. I notice immediately that everyone seems remarkable friendly. I also know that I have arrived in the Carribean - creole is being spoken, and there are rastas around.
11.30am - my room not being ready, and England playing Ecuador, I head to the nearest bar. Due to the chaps at Taca getting telling us the wrong time when we landed in Belize, I have miscalculated and just missed the match. England have won 1-0 anyway, so I have a beer to celebrate. One beer turns into three as I get chatting to the locals. One man explains to me the problems he is having with his air-conditioning. I make some crass remark like 'this is the only air-conditioning I need' while holding up my beer bottle, and immediately feel like an idiot. He seems to enjoy it , though, and begins slapping the bar counter and laughing uproariously. The resident rasta trys to sell me some pot, but I'm not really interested. We have a good chat anyway.
Midday - feeling light-headed, I decide to find some food. I stumble into a restaurant and order the daily special: lobster curry. It tastes great, but I have to hold my nose when eating the coleslaw - I hate that slop. The bill arrives, and it is three times what I was expecting. I am also sweating profusely now, and need to lie down.
1pm - get into my hotel room. It is very basic. As ever, someone has wiped the contents of their nose next to the head of the bed. At least there is a large fan to keep me cool.
2pm-5pm - sleep fitfully. It is too hot, my ribs hurt, and I have to finish the book I am reading (damn you, Grisham).
5pm - wander around town looking for something to do. Settle on a pizza joint for a couple of slices wedged between an unpleasantness of obese American children with newly braided hair.
7pm - retire for the night to my hovel after a handful of minutes gazing wistfully out to sea. 7.15pm - Wake up fifteen minutes later having scratched my sandfly bites and finding blood all over my ankles and sheets.
7.30pm - fall asleep again.

So there you have it. The best thing about Belize was the marine wildlife. I snorkelled and dived all over the cayes. Lots of rays, sharks, turtles and fish. One memory sticks more than others: two large spotted eagle rays swimming gracefully in formation 20m down, with a turtle in the foreground making its way to the surface for air. Incredible stuff.

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Photos

Hangout for the extremely rich
Cheap air taxis gave me a nice view of the cayes. This island comprises a golf course, a landing strip, a handful of very expensive houses to rent, and one very smug owner.

Another dreary Thursday morning
Halfway through one of the snorkelling day trips, we stopped at this tiny (1 acre) caye for lunch and a swim. An intense tropical squall had been following us around all day. Here, it has just passed.

Nurse sharks
These chaps on the surface were tiddlers. Underwater, their enormous relations cruised around like submarines. I chastised a Mexican for trying to grab a large turtle's head (fnar).

Downtown San Pedro
Nice enough, but too built up and full of gated all-inclusive resorts. Caye Caulker was much nicer and had more of a European feel.

My route through the cayes
3 nights San Pedro, two nights Caye Caulker, 1 night Belize City. Belize is all about what happens below the waves - more marine wildlife than you can shake a stick (or snorkel) at.

Manmade caye
Put some sticks in the seabed, return every week to maintain, wait thirty years. Then you have an island. This fishing family gave us some shark feed in return for lager.

National park attendant
'Did anything interesting happen at work today, dear?'.
'Not really'.

Manatee watching
We saw a few of these endangered creatures, but they were difficult to snap as only their nostrils appeared occasionally above the surface. It was raining so hard we had to shelter under a plastic sheet in the boat, drinking rum.

Dive boats docked for lunch
I dived the Blue Hole and a couple of other sites. The BH is a collapsed cave and so makes for unusual rocks formations. It's a really deep dive (40m+) and stuffed with reef sharks.