You can
read the
introduction here, which lists everywhere we stayed in
Belize and every service we used, with links to official web
sites. I hope the page can be used for others to put together
their own itinerary. Our recommendations for planning your own
trip to Belize are there too.
Heading South of the Border
It was hard to find affordable flights from Portland, Oregon to
Belize that didn't involve two or more layovers. We found that if
we extended our stay three more days in Belize than we planned
originally, we would pay almost $1000 less on flights - and, yes,
that would mean more money spent on hotels and what not in Belize
for those extra days, but isn't that how YOU would prefer to spend
$1000? So we decided to stay a full two weeks - we had originally
intended just 10 days. We settled on an American Airlines flight
that meant we flew out of PDX at midnight and would have a five
hour layover in Dallas. Ugh. The first flight would be just over
five hours, the second flight from Dallas to Belize City wouldn't
be even three hours. It looked so much easier on a computer
screen... we had to book these flights on the phone with a live
agent because the American Airline web site kept screwing up. By
the time the call ended, the agent was giggling, told me how much
she had loved the call, and said she hoped God blessed me. Those
of you who have seen me mad may not believe this, but most
customer service agents LOVE me. I'm fun.
We had a normal day with Lucy the day we left, sticking to her
usual schedule so she wouldn't be too anxious, but she knew
something was up - she knows what packing means. We left her at
what is usually bedtime for us... the dog sitter would arrive to
stay with her bright and early the next day. A neighbor drove us
to the Sunset Transit Center, about 35 minutes away, and then we
took the train to the airport - 55 minutes. Total cost: $5 for the
both of us. It's at least $120 with tip to book a car through a
service - and I don't mean Lyft or Uber, which are WAY more
expensive - but about two thirds of the time for the ride.
The downside of the money savings with TriMet to and/or from the
airport: the travelers on a Portland Max train on a Friday night
after 8 p.m. are mostly junkies: the meth users are wired, the
opioid addicts are slumped over and drooling. We were the only
people not in either of those categories in our train car all the
way to the airport. Not kidding.
For the flight, we had only our helmets, to go under the seats in
front of us, and one carry on each, to go in the overhead
compartment. That's it. My purse and dry bag - the bag was a gift
from Stefan (
coyotetrips) for
Christmas, thanks honey - that I would take on my motorcycle for
our tour of Belize were in my carry-on bag, along with everything
else for my trip. We were wearing our bike pants with the padding
removed (they were in our carry-ons). We also wore our warm
weather mesh jackets onto each plane in the USA, so they wouldn't
be counted as carry-ons. It was a challenge in that you need
certain things on your person at all times: your passport, your
wallet, your cell phone, your ear buds and whatever snacks you
want access to on the flight; mine went in my helmet.
I figured I would be able to sleep a few hours on the USA flights,
and even in the Dallas airport. I hoped for quiet flights. But I
got maybe one hour on each flight and one hour in the airport - I
was too full on anxiety or couldn't get comfortable. It's alos not
easy trying to sleep while wearing motorcycle gear, and I have to
say it: all this weight that is again a part of my body makes
everything harder.
I was barely functional by the time we got to Belize City. Before
we left, I had made a big speech to Stefan with this theme:
we
have to look out for each other. We have to make sure we aren't
leaving something behind when we walk away, we have to ask each
other, "Are you okay?", we have to have each other's back.
Part of that was in anticipation of just how damn tired we would
be by the time we arrived in Belize. I didn't want to make a
trip-ending mistake. And part of it was that I'm getting old and
forgetful and airline travel stress makes it all worse.
The airport at Belize City is old and small but surprisingly
functional. We'd booked a flight from Belize City far later after
arrival than most people do, scared of delayed flights and a late
arrival, and had now ended up with another long layover because,
in fact, everything had been on time. Stefan asked the Mayan Air
representative, as we handed over our carry-ons, except for our
helmets, if there was any way we could get an earlier flight. Maya
Island Air said no problem and, indeed, it was no problem. And
when we walked out on the tarmac to get on
our
teeny tiny plane, there was our luggage ready to be put on
this same earlier flight.
That efficiency, friendliness and
"no problem" attitude was repeated over and over and over the
entire time in Belize. It was like nothing I have ever
encountered in all my domestic or international travel.
And so we propose that Mayan Air take over all other airlines. Let
them take over American, Southwest, Delta, United - all of 'em.
Suddenly, I was wide awake. I was in Belize, it was January 27th,
2023, and I was about to fly on a tiny, tiny plane! All the
passengers were taking photos of the tiny plane outside and inside
and
laughing
in delight. The takeoff was a bit rough and the woman behind
Stefan was as scared as I was, so she and I looked at each other
and laughed some more. We felt every bump in the air and we'd look
at each other and laugh nervously. I don't think anyone ever
stopped talking or laughing. We were all in awe of the experience
- except for the pilot, who must be so used to this, and even
bored flying back and forth, back and forth.
The ocean was mesmerizing: I haven't seen those
shades
of blue or green before. And we were flying over a jungle!
I'd never seen a jungle before. It was overwhelming.
If
you see the photos, you see that Stefan and I were wearing
masks on the plane. We had agreed we would wear masks on all
flights to Belize, and on any mass transit like a bus (which we
never ended up taking in Belize), but screw it, after that, we
figured we would be outside or in our hotel room most of the time
and we were going mask-less.
Not long after we were up in the air, we were landing. It was
after 2, I think. I don't know. I was barely hanging on to
rational thought due to lack of sleep. We were on the central time
zone, so we had lost only two hours, but we had been up for more
than 24 hours - our brains were fried.
The
Dangriga
airport is oh-so-tiny, but also oh-so-neat and tidy and
efficient. After a quick trip to the bathroom (and this was my
third bathroom in Belize and it was spotless and plenty of TP and
that was the standard for our entire trip), we were in our air
conditioned prearranged van and off for the 30 minute drive to
Hopkins. I was so tired, I felt like I was walking - or thinking -
in wet cement, but I couldn't stop looking out the window. I was
in the jungle! I was farther South in North American than I had
ever been! I didn't want to miss anything! And I was visiting my
39th country. I wanted to see everything along the way.
Hopkins is off the main highway that runs North to South in the
country and it is right on the coast. It is a tight, small
community, populated by the Afro-Caribbean Garifuna people. They
are descendants of enslaved West Africans who came onto the
Caribbean island of St. Vincent around 1635, likely on their way
to work and die in New World mines and plantations, but a ship
wreck diverted them. They mixed with the indigenous people of the
islands of the area, and became their own, unique culture. Between
the years 1832 – 1900, the Garifuna created several settlements
along the coast of Belize. The city in Hopkins was created in 1942
to replace the Garifuna village of Newtown, further up the coast,
which was devastated by a hurricane.
I found Hopkins immediately charming. I loved seeing people waking
and bike riding. I loved that there were no big resorts or high
buildings or fancy restaurants - it's a place where people
actually live - the Garifuna people - and there happen to be some
places here and there that will feed you and where you can stay
and where you can book something like diving or snorkeling or
fishing.
Our driver got us to
Crash Pad, which is also the
site of
Alternate Adventures,
where we had booked our motorcycles. It's easy to find, per the
line of motorcycles out front during business hours. I don't
really remember much about our arrival. I don't have words for how
tired I was. If I was uttering any words, they were probably
nonsense. I just remember coming into our room, taking off all my
clothes and climbing up the ladder to our bed and then not much
after that.
Crash Pad has really simple rooms: each room has its own private
bathroom, each room has a comfy bed, and for at least two of the
rooms,
your
bed is a loft bed, above
the
little room outside your bathroom. There's
no
TV and no couch. I had seen a photo of the room online and I
saw that
the
ladder up to the loft wasn't straight up and down, and the
steps were wide, not little narrow rungs, so I was pretty sure I
could get up and down - and being old, I knew I'd have to get up
and down a couple of times in the night. Just by being careful, I
was fine for our entire stay. There's a big grab bar at the top of
the ladder, so that makes it easy to get on and off the platform
for the bed. It was decent exercise for a 57-year-old fat girl.
In fact, I loved our dorm design so much, I wish we could build a
little one room hut in our back yard for motorcycle travelers
using the exact design. But our back yard isn't wide enough.
I was deeply resentful only that we didn't get the room that has
two pieces of artwork on the wall depicting Star Wars Imperial
Storm Troopers on those fabulous forest vehicles of theirs that
kinda look like motorcycles.
You have to pay extra for air conditioning, and we stuck it out
without it for our first three nights, but near the end of our
trip, when we stayed another night there, yeah, we totally used
the AC.
First Days in Belize
After our recovery nap, we explored Hopkins a bit by foot. It was
the evening and the city seemed to be coming even more alive.
Music poured out of restaurants, bars and homes. We went across
the street from the Crash Pad and had a delicious supper at
Tugusina
Garifuna, a Garifuna family restaurant. I had a shrimp dish
and rice, and it was incredible. Unfortunately, we forgot to ask
when Stefan ordered the fish if it was still on the bone - it was.
He does not deal well with meat on the bone - and this fish was
REALLY bony (but damn delicious). The seating area had picnic
tables and a roof - no windows, and just a picket fence around the
seating area. That was common for Belize, and I fell in love with
sitting inside of restaurants but feeling like I was still
outdoors. The family running the restaurant set the whole tone for
the rest of the trip: welcoming, chatty, relaxed, happy that we
were there. We talked to another customer, a guy from Austria, who
was about to leave Belize, and he said this had been
his
favorite restaurant anywhere in the area. He said the fancy
resort restaurants in the area were all overrated.
Night had fallen, so we walked over to the nearest grocery for
beer and snacks. I referred to it as the Grumpy Grocery or the
Unhappy Grocery for the rest of the trip, once we learned that
there was another grocery in town called the Happy Grocery and
also because, unlike the other groceries in town, and indeed,
unlike all of the other people in Belize, the Unhappy Grocery is
run by unhappy people: they never smiled, there were signs
everywhere threatening prosecution for stealing, and we'd been
warned by someone that the grocery had a reputation for having old
items on the shelves, many with expired dates. Every grocery store
we went into on our trip was run by Chinese people, but none were
grumpy - only the Unhappy Grocery.
We sat on the
beautiful
rooftop patio at Crash Pad, drank the local beer, Belikin,
and enjoyed the sounds of the night. We also talked with another
guest, a lovely gentleman from Finland. I was ready to pack him up
and take him home with us, he was so adorable. He was ending his
trip and had had a wonderful time. He told us that just around the
corner there is
Kat's,
an excellent coffee bar that served some breakfast items and
is run by a Finnish woman. Kat's ended up seeing us a LOT.
I went to bed early, before Stefan, and as I lay there listening
to the sounds of the night - the music and laughing - I wondered
if I could fall asleep, even though I was so sleep deprived. And I
did, seconds later.
The next day, we got up early - I think at 6. My brain was clear!
I changed into my UNICEF dress (
you
can buy it here) and we were off to more fully explore
Hopkins by foot. Yes, I take a dress on motorcycle trips,
including camping trips. I take a dress because I just don't like
being in a shorts and t-shirt ALL THE TIME. Sometimes, I like to
feel girly. Both of my travel dresses - the other one is from REI
- are easy to hand wash.
Our first stop that day was
Kat's.
The iced coffee was very good and I liked my breakfast there so
much I had it two more times during our visit: sauteed veggies on
a hamburger bun toasted panini style, with cheese. Stefan had the
same sandwich but with "turkey ham", which is turkey processed and
sliced like pork ham. You will see it and "chicken ham" for sale
in groceries in Belize. Neither involve ham. Our morning
entertainment was Kat herself, with her lovely, friendly staff,
using a machete to cut down low hanging branches on a tree
overhanging the parking lot. I also loved watching the
beautiful
children of Hopkins riding their bicycles or walking
together down the dirt road to the Roman Catholic school nearby.
And I was mesmerized by
the
messaging on the makeshift fence around the house across the
street.
After breakfast, we walked up and down the always busy main
street. I was so taken with
all
the flora. It looked like you could throw anything onto the
ground and it would grow and flower. There were coconut trees
everywhere! I felt like I was in a movie. I was also taken with
the
houses
built on stilts. Storm surges are apparently an issue in
Hopkins. We passed
the little
community library - closed then, but we saw it open many
times when we walked by over and over during our trip. On our
various walks through town, we really did see the whole town of
Hopkins, end-to-end, and a lot of the side streets. There are SO
many places to eat and a lot of places to
access
the ocean front. We had encountered the dreaded sand fleas
at supper the night before, and they feasted on us again when we
visited the beachfront near the Catholic Church. You have to cover
your legs in bug spray in the mornings and then all over in the
evenings, absolutely, but such is life near water.
I'm not much for beaches. They are beautiful, I like to look at a
beach for a while, and I did that first day, but there was a part
of me that was still thinking,
What am I doing here? I'm going
to be bored in no time.
I'm not sure how we decided to do it, but since we had a full day
the next day in Belize, without motorcycles, we decided we would
try snorkeling for the first time in our lives. So we booked with
Emma's recommendation,
Noawel's
Fishing and Snorkeling. It's run by an experienced,
knowledgeable Garifuna family. We walked down to their home office
and the lovely Alice took our reservation, and she was delighted
to learn that there was a song called "Alice's Restaurant" and
giggled when we pulled it up on YouTube so she could hear the
chorus. Alice told us that we would depart at 9 a.m. the next
morning unless the ocean was too rough, and in that case, we would
be delayed until it was okay to go. She said she would let us know
by WhatsApp. We booked the half day trip - we had never been
snorkeling before and didn't want to book a whole day and find out
we hated it.
A word about WhatsApp: if you are going to travel or live abroad,
you have to use WhatsApp on your smartphone. It is extremely
popular most everywhere other than the USA - and is very popular
among immigrants in the USA. We relied on WhatsApp the entire trip
to communicate with hotels, drivers, our Tikal guide and more. Get
it on your phone before you leave the USA and learn to use it if
you don't know already. It does mean the contact list on your
phone is going to get huge on your trip, and I personally find
that a big pain - I like for my phone list to be quite lean.
We stopped a few doors down for lunch. It was disappointing. It
was really the only disappointing meal we had in Belize. We should
have eaten at Tugusina Garifuna again, but it was closed.
We walked back to our guest house and I was getting nervous about
so many things. I get motion sickness so easily. My gag reflex is
horrible now, and I sometimes gag brushing my teeth - how would I
put the snorkel mouthpiece in my mouth? And the only times I ever
tried to put on flippers was when I was a kid, in other people's
pools, and with those borrowed flippers, and I got sudden,
horrible toe cramps absolutely every time. Snorkeling now seemed a
really, really bad idea. But I had never tried it... and to come
to Belize and not snorkel seemed like it would be a sin: the reefs
off the coast are legendarily beautiful.
I wish I could tell you what else we did that day. Maybe we took a
nap? I don't know. And there are going to be a lot of times when I
wish I could tell you more about this trip. But I won't be able
to, because a week after we were back in the USA, I realized that
I had put all of my notes, which were in a plastic sleeve, in the
seat pocket in front of me on the last flight, rather than to try
to keep them in my helmet under the seat in front of me. And I
guess I left them there and when the plane cleaners got on, they
threw that sleeve of documents away. I would have hoped that they
would have seen that they were in a plastic sleeve and that there
were boarding passes in them and would have thought, oh no, we
need to return these to the lost and found, there might be key
info here! But you've seen how rushed airline cleaning crews are -
it's not a job for thinking and considering, especially when you
have to get a late plane ready to fly again in just a few minutes
(and our flight was really late getting back, so they were extra
rushed).
Tears have been shed over those lost notes...
Anyway, on that second evening in Belize, we walked to a
restaurant down the road that looked really breezy and quaint for
supper. It was... okay. The view is great, but the food is so-so.
I don't know if I had eaten something that was making me just a
bit uncomfortable or if it was all the worry, but I decided on a
really light supper of just appetizers: tortilla chips, hummus and
garlic bread. And Belikin beer. Since Kat's was going to be closed
the next day, we went to the happier grocery down the street and
got cheese, meat, chocolate milk and other things for breakfast
and, potentially, to settle an upset stomach the next day. I also
bought a hat from a roadside seller as we walked back - I had
forgotten to bring one, and a hat is essential in Belize. We spent
that evening again on the Crash Pad rooftop patio listening to the
cacophony of sounds - cars, music, arguments, laughter - and
talking to other guests and playing on our phone (excellent
Internet access!).
As a person who is devoted to sleep, you might think that I would
have trouble sleeping in Hopkins with all the noise. But I never
did. I attribute it to both how tired I was absolutely every day
and to the lack of bass in the music all around. I can fall asleep
to the call to prayer, or to somewhat distant music and laughter
and talking, or to traffic noise, but I cannot sleep if there is a
loud bass - it pierces my soul. No bass piercing my soul in
Hopkins this night or any other.
A word about the dogs of Belize: the circumstances are not easy to
see. Dogs in Hopkins and other small towns have it better than in
Italy or Romania or Afghanistan. The vast majority of dogs in
Belize are handled by humans as puppies and are therefore most are
not aggressive - none ever chased our motorcycles. But the dogs of
Belize are underfed, they roam the streets, they get hit by cars,
many have horrible skin conditions that go untreated, the females
are perpetually pregnant... it's not easy to see and I wish it was
different and sometimes, I had to look away or walk quickly away.
But I've seen so much worse, so for the most part, I was okay. And
in Belize, I saw many more cases of people loving their dogs than
people harming them (and I cannot say that for Italy or Romania).
The reality is that the dogs of Hopkins are treated like dogs were
when I was growing up in Kentucky, when people just let their dogs
run loose or chained them in a yard with very little room, never
put them on leashes for walks, didn't bring them into the house,
etc. And that was horrible and I'm so glad that it's changed so,
so much in Kentucky. I hope it does everywhere else too.
The next day, we got up early per a set alarm and ate our
makeshift breakfast on the Crash Pad rooftop patio, which has a
refrigerator for guests. Just after 8:30, Alice's WhatsApp message
came in: we would be delayed on the snorkel trip because of a
choppy sea, but we would try at 11. That was fine. I don't
remember what we did in the meantime, other than me taking a
generic version of Dramamine and trying to eat as many crackers as
I possibly could. Later, we put on our bathing suits and clothes
over them, filled our cloth shopping bag with provisions we
thought we might need, put on our hats and walked down to
Noawel's.
We got our briefing about snorkeling and how the day would go from
one of the Noawel family as we sat in front of their home office
on a picnic table under an awning. When no one was looking, I
tried to put the snorkel mouthpiece in my mouth. And I immediately
started to gag. I didn't say anything. We crossed the street and
walked to the boat at the shore and I was thinking, well, at least
I can take photos of Stefan if I really can't do this, or just
hold my breath instead of using the snorkel as I swim. But if I
can't do this, this experience is going to suck eggs. And I'll
probably be violently ill 60 seconds into the boat trip anyway.
It was fun to help put the small boat in the water - Stefan
pointed out that they were doing it exactly like the Romans did,
rolling it down to the water on logs. It was a small boat
completely open to the elements, with seating for maybe six people
total, including
our
two person crew. Our provisions and those they brought for
us were tucked into the hold at the front of the boat, they had us
sit in the middle seats because of the waves, and off we went!
The waves were intense but, surprise, I did not get sick! I
attribute it to the boat hitting the waves dead on in the front
(no side-to-side stuff), that I always faced front, that we
weren't inside and that it wasn't hot yet. I made sure to never
turn to the sides or look behind me, no matter how badly I wanted
to. The ride not only didn't make me sick - it was fun! Every time
we would hit a particularly high wave and smack down into the
water, I would squeal loudly. Stefan and I had to yell at each
other, back and forth. I said, "Can you imagine our motorcycles in
this!?" referencing
Itchy Boots crossing the
water to avoid the Darian Gap where Central and South
America come together. No, we could not.
It took longer than usual to get to "our" reef. It's between two
very small islands: South Water Caye, a small island with a few
bars and restaurants (no roads) and the island where Carrie Bow
Cay Field station is located: it has just one large permanent
structure on it and its where our guide said university research
students come to "study marine biology and drink beer." Sounds
good to me! Just after we stopped in the water and were preparing
to go in, a manta ray eel went gliding under our boat. Had we been
just 5 minutes sooner, we could have seen it under the water
ourselves! But it was still a thrill.
We stripped off our clothes, tied the life jackets around our
wastes and jumped in the water with our guide - the other stayed
in the boat. It was not a calm ocean, but with those life jackets
strung around our waists and Stefan and I both being good
swimmers, we were fine. I put on my goggles and then the moment of
truth came: I made sure the snorkel mouth piece was plenty wet and
put it in my mouth AND I DID NOT GAG. I don't know if it because
of the adrenaline or that it was all hydrated but it was in my
mouth and I immediately pushed my face into the water and HOLY
MOLEY THERE'S A WHOLE WORLD DOWN THERE!!
I was not prepared for the absolute shock of bright colors under
the water. The fish are so beautiful! Everything was beautiful! We
would lift up our heads and our guide would tell us what we had
just seen or what he was about to do so we would see something.
Then down our heads would go back into the water to watch the
show. I was a little panicky at first with breathing through the
snorkel but a friend had told me, just be calm, tell yourself to
be calm, and just keep breathing. And fairly quickly, with such
compelling images before me under the water, I was breathing fine
and totally digging it. And the flippers fit perfectly - no
cramps. I was a mermaid in the water!
Sadly, all that bobbing up and down on the water's surface after
several minutes did, eventually, make me sick. But by the time I
puked, our time in the water was done, and I was facing away from
everyone. No one even knew I had done it. If I had to get sick, it
was perfect timing.
We got back in the boat (no idea how those skinny young men got
this big fat white whale back in) and headed to South Water Caye
and I sat in the shade and drank water and a Coke, and then moved
on to watermelon. That and pineapple are better than sports drinks
for me when I get sick like this - they restore all the nutrients,
give me the good sugar, and within 20 minutes, I was absoluteyl
fine and ready to get back on the boat. Though
I
did stand in the water for a bit. The shallow blue water is
fascinating and was an entirely new experience for me.
There were groups of tourists getting in or out of boats all
around us, almost all white people. Most had been, or were going,
to snorkel. A few were fishing. I was happy to see a group being
lead by a Garifuna woman. Every guide not only knew each other and
talked for a bit - our guide said they are all related.
After checking to make sure I wanted to keep going, our guides
took us to
Bird
Island - NOT the exclusive private island near Placencia
but, rather, a small island thickly and completely covered with
mangrove trees that are all
filled
with Magnificent Frigatebirds. That's their name - they are
also quite magnificent. And Magnificent Frigatebird males inflate
red throat pouches to attract females. It was a fascinating thing
to see for ourselves! Added bonus: our guides spotted
a
really large star fish in the water and got us out to handle
(and we safely returned it to the water) and later, saw yet
another manta ray eel gliding by and double backed in the water so
we could see it too.
We headed back to Hopkins, passing closer to islands covered in
what looked like very expensive bungalows far out of our budget.
We were bouncing off the water less this time, and I never got
sick again. Once we were back on shore, Stefan and I were still
pretty bouncy. What an adventure! I was so, so happy at what I had
seen and that the only time I'd gotten sick had been brief and
hadn't ruined the trip.
But we'd made a huge mistake: after we had gotten out of the
water, we had put on our clothes and our hats, but we hadn't put
on sunscreen on our faces or hands. And I severely paid the price:
my face was not only turning red, it was swelling. I have avoided
getting any sun tan whatsoever for many years. Damn. It. By
evening, my face hurt so, so bad. I was miserable. I didn't want
anyone to see me, but I had no choice: after a nap, I went up to
the roof, embarrassed and in actual pain from my extremely red and
swollen face. Of course all of the Crash Pad guests were on the
roof. But we did have a nice chat with the others - a couple from
Australia that had been out on one of the bikes, two up, and a
couple from Cologne, Germany, and our Finnish friend again.
Another setback, more permanent: the photos I'd taken during our
snorkeling trip were gone. We don't have an underwater camera, and
I forgot to ask the guy that stayed in the boat to take photos of
us in the water, but I did take photos from the boat. And they all
disappeared. My smartphone was no longer saving photos to my SD
card. My photos from the day (but not before) were gone. I
switched to saving photos on my phone and uploaded my photos every
evening, without fail, terrified of losing an entire day's photos
again.
Emma suggested we get all the paperwork and briefings on the
motorcycles that day, so we could just load up and take off
whenever we wanted the next day. We stood in the garage while she
went over various aspects of the bikes and the rental agreement. I
was nervous again. I did not want to drop the bike. Not ever. But
we would be going over some REALLY challenging terrain sometimes.
And we hadn't spent much at all on main roads - what if drivers
were crazy here, like in Eastern Europe? And Emma Cases-Moller is
an off road Queen.
Have you
seen her Instagram account?! Or
this
profile in Daughters of the Road from 2017? I was trying not
to fan girl every time I saw her. She would see me on a motorcycle
and think, oh, geesh, what have I done? After her briefing on the
bikes, about all we would be responsible for and all she could do
for us if something went wrong, and after all of Stefan's
questions, I sheepishly asked if we should take photos of the
bikes before, like at a rental car company, and then again after
we were done? She said, "Jayne, Jayne, come here" and pulled me
into a hug and then said, "Just don't be an asshole, okay? It will
be fine." I giggled.
Night was falling and Stefan and I walked all the way down the
main road to the main intersection in Hopkins. We ate at
another
family-run restaurant, this one across the road from the
police station, rather than the other place nearby, full of white
tourists and not run by a local. To be clear, I have NOTHING wrong
with foreigners moving anywhere and opening businesses. None. We
were staying at a place run by a Swedish-Spanish woman. We later
stayed at a place run by Canadians. And I don't mind going where
other tourists go - there's a reason such places are popular. But
this particular place looked too much like a place for fans of
Jimmy Buffet. And I'm not fond of fans of Jimmy Buffet. It looked
like a place where we could hear Baby Boomer rock music and do
shots. And I am just not in the mood for that ever.
The place we chose instead was like an extended shack. The food
was good and, as always, the Belikin beer absolutely hit the spot.
We always try to stick with the local brew, if it's any good, and
both the regular Belikin and the dark version were quite tasty. It
was dark inside the restaurant and
I
was hoping most people couldn't see my red, swollen face.
I was getting worried yet again. On top of all of my anxieties for
riding a motorcycle that's not mine, I was going to have to put a
motorcycle helmet over my monstrously painful face.
We went to sleep on our third night in Hopkins, wondering what our
first day on the motorcycles would be like...
Part two, about
our first day on the bikes, for a motorcycle ride to San
Ignacio and visits to St. Herman's Cave and the
interior blue hole.
You can
read the
introduction to this travelogue here, which lists everywhere
we stayed in Belize and every service we used, with links, and can
easily be used to put together your own itinerary.
You can see
my
favorite photos from our trip here (there are about 500 and
most are taken by me or feature ME). You can
see Stefan's
favorite photos from the trip here (there are about 800 and
most are taken by him or feature him).