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Published: April 5th 2006
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The good life
Sitting there in disbelief that it had rained for so long in Central America. “I can’t Belize the bus has broken down!”
And so began our journey into beautiful Belize. With a name like Belize its hard not to try and insert it into every possible sentence. It has such a faraway, exotic sound to it, it really is hard to Belize you are in Belize when you finally arrive in what was once known as British Honduras (but got a kickarse name instead - for more information on the problems with Honduras see my earlier blogs).
In the usual fashion of our trip the rains had followed our journey and Belize was in flood. We originally were going to stop off at a border town and do some remarkably overpriced (but equally awe-inspiring) caving, but the rains had come and filled the caves and instead we spent our first morning in Belize squashed in the back of a mini-bus with an obnoxious Mexican man who ate fast food the whole way and made rude demands of the other passengers while talking to his ugly daughters. Yes, yes a tad harsh but when you have to spend 6 hours in front of a man burping fried chicken into the back of your neck
View from the hammock
With some kite surfers in the distance. while your face is resting on your knees you’ll understand my distaste for this man and his nasty family.
On our way to Belize City the bus broke down which was welcome respite from the long journey. By the time we finally did arrive in Belize City we were tired and irritable and counting the seconds until we would be in anything that resembled a tropical location.
A wise United Nations employee once told me that whenever there are talks with Central America countries Belize is often left out (or lumped with the Caribbean countries) - much to their annoyance - because their official language is English rather than Spanish. However, once you cross the border from Guatemala to Belize you really do feel like you are in a whole different world. Not only is the local language English but it’s as though you’ve been dropped in the Bible Belt of the United State’s deep south. It’s Baptist Church after Baptist Church School here, and they are only broken up with the Kingdom Halls of the Jehovah Witnesses.
The strong religious presence in Belize may have something to do with me having what may have amounted to
Me and the chicken
and the hot sauce too. my first (and probably only) religious experience within my first hour of Belize City. While Julian and Cookie were buying cocaine in the street (OK OK, before I get any more complaints about my “one-sided blog” I’ll revise that - they were being offered the opportunity to purchase coke, crack and heroin in the street) Linda, Ben and I had stumbled on something far more addictive than any methamphetamine - the chicken, rice and beans sold in the street in Belize is so good that I’m quite sure I would kill to get more of it. As the rain started to pour (shock, horror) we were herded under an umbrella by a big woman who insisted we buy what she was buying. The chicken was succulent and was covered in the greatest BBQ sauce imaginable. As I stood in the nasty, ramshackle and flooding streets of Belize City and took my first bite of that chicken I knew I was in heaven. I think Linda and Ben were of the same view. Coupled with Marie Sharp’s Hot Sauce (a Belizean product made from a secret recipe that involves a lot of carrots) I knew what I would be eating the
Our house in Belize
Next to the BBQ place. rest of my time in this beautiful Caribbean - whoops, I mean Central American - country.
We took a boat from Belize City to Caye Caulker and spent the good part of a few hours looking for accommodation. In a surprising and unexpected move the sun came out (!) and the search for houses in the sandy streets of the Caye was quite fun. Cookie managed to find a perfectly located house - a block from the ocean and NEXT DOOR to an open-air restaurant named Marla’s Kitchen where they served Belizean style BBQ chicken. For those few blissful days I became very well acquainted with Marla’s daughter Taroline (no, that’s not a typo Moesha) who dished out some great BBQ delights.
I do Belize that our next few days were relaxing. After several weeks of living in hotels and eating at restaurants we thoroughly enjoyed having a house to ourselves away from any screaming Danes. We sat by the ocean in hammocks, went sailing (I am apparently good ballast) and immersed ourselves in the surrounding relaxed atmosphere where every song is a Bob Marley tune and the English spoken is long and lazy - like watching the
Me on the pier
Modeling my pathetic beard. test cricket on a hot summer afternoon.
As with any Bob Marleyesque location people are always keen to sell you drugs and the Guatemalan 5 always seemed (to the dealers at least) ready to buy. Under the guise of selling the ugliest dolls I have ever seen a man offered us dolls and then dope while we were sitting at a restaurant one day. In an attempt to get rid of the guy I told him that I had a whole bag full at home and I wouldn’t be needing any. Julian missed the offer for drugs and then a whole Montey Python style conversation ensued which I think confused the dealer so much that he left as quickly as he could.
Patrick: No thank you, I have a whole bag full.
Julian: You do?
P: Yes, that’s why I don’t need any more.
J: You have a bag full of dolls?
P: … err, yes… dolls.
J: I haven’t seen any dolls.
P: (Under my breath) I don’t mean those kinds of dolls.
J: What kind then?
P: The other kind he’s selling.
J: What other kind? He only has one type of doll.
P: Not dolls
Belize
With no rain. must be paradise. you idiot. (Under my breath). Dope.
J: What?
P: (whispered) Dope.
J: Huh?! What doll? I haven’t seen you with any dolls.
P: DRUGS! DRUGS! DRUGS!
I think the guy had left before I started banging my head on the table.
There is one last story to tell about Julian and Cookie getting chased by a crocodile while they were on a romantic bike ride around the island - but alas, it’s not my story to tell.
But for all our miscommunications, mishaps and (mis)adventures the Guatemalan 5 had an awesome trip together exploring the rain soaked delights of Central America. Never have I seen so much rain in so little time. Never have I learnt so much about investment banking, piloting, mining and Jamberoo. Never have I been so pleased that people could put up with my idiosyncrasies for so long. Apparently I listen to my ipod VERY loudly.
Thanks to Ben, Linda, Cookie and Jules for all of our great times. I was sad to wave goodbye to them from the boat back to Belize City but I was happy with the knowledge that I was off to start a new adventure in Guatemala
Sailing in the Caribbean
I never thought it was possible to look this good while wearing a life jacket AND squinting. and that a certain chicken dish was waiting fro me back on dry land. Like all good things, unfortunately the Crazy Mayan Beard Challenge also came to an end in Belize. I am back to appearing as the respectable world citizen you’ve come to expect in these photos (except for my new tattoo!). Speaking of (more) famous bearded figures; stay tuned for my account of my adventures in Cuba … the world’s largest theme park. That’s right; my lack of communication these last few weeks was due to me being off drinking mojitos with Fidel rather than lying dead in a ditch somewhere.
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Show us your Tat!
Show us your tat! PS if ANY ONE, any one at all has santi's address, please send it to me.