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After our spelunking adventure we passed up the cave tubing adventure for a somewhat more dry trip.  A two hour drive to Caracol.  Through the Pine Ridge Reserve.  What use to be a deforested area, by the Brits for teak wood.  Now being reforested, and where the US and Brits do jungle survival training.  Perhaps it makes sense, the Brits tear it all down then need a place to train so they build it back up.

Caracol was very secluded.  Being so distant from any main city, having horrible ungraded roads, and requiring military escort to get to…not a lot of tourists running around.  So, had the place pretty much to ourselves.  Well, besides the two Japanese tourists that were in our group and gave Sean a run for his money on the number of pictures taken.  Don’t know if Sean took more pictures of them taking pictures or the actual site.

However, let it be known that this day will be considered my first ”nimrod” day of the trip.  It was a series of events really that led to my pain.   If you recall the snorkeling trip in Caye Caulker…well, what I didn’t say is that I drank a lot of salt water through my nose.  Which, in some way led to a cold/sinus infection.  Nose didn’t really start running until Caracol, a few days after.  Of course, that day I didn’t pack any of the lil’ tissues Faina got me.  So, I was just squeezing the snot off with my fingers and throwing it on the ground…I’m in the jungle after-all.  I’m ok with that, not trying to impress anyone here.  Well, our tour grinds along…coming to a chile tree.  Like a good tourist I take one eat it, laugh at how hot it is in my mouth and move on.  Of course, my nose is running…so, I squeeze the snot off and continue on my marry way of ruin viewing.  When WHAMMO…forgot to wash my frickin hands because…well, I’m the jungle.  So, needless to say my nose is now en fuego because the chile juice is now in my nose.  And I have no doubt there was a Mayan remedy lurking in the jungle but I didn’t think it was safe to go rubbing random leaves all over my nose.  So, I just had to stick out the pain, all five ours of it.  If you’re curious…the chile was the size of my pinky nail.  POW!!  A view of a grown man in pain and the tiny item that caused it:

After the ruins and me coming to terms with my blunder we stopped at Rio Frio Caves and Rio on the pools.  Two beautiful spots.  Sean elected to go swimming while I elected to go rock climbing.  The adventurer.  I left the tour bus to scale the rocks from one side of the falls to the next.  Great until halfway up the falls I realized I’d half to swim or trek through the jungle to get back to the pools where the tour awaited.  So, I had a 100 yard trip through the jungle, wondering if a puma was going to pounce on me.  No worries people, I was covered in snot and chile juice.  NO WAY a puma would want to eat me.

As far as Sean’s ‘’swim”.  Well, you can see from the picture above.  The water was about three inches deep.  That’s him crawling to the water fall rather than swimming.

After arriving in San Ignacio and reading our guide books we quickly learned that the ”must do” trip in Belize is ATM. Or Actun Tunichil Muknal. If I remember correctly, that’s Mayan for ”Cave of the stone Sepulchre”. And I think ”Sepulchre” is Spanish for coffin. Could be way off. But, I’m going off memory and translating a Spaniard speaking Mayan with a Spanish word in there. So, some deviation is acceptable from my POV. We were told, ”as grand as the Pyramids of Giza”.

To get there is a trek. Making the traveler continuously curious if it was worth the $80 US for the guided tour. We left at 0800, driving an hour and a half outside of San Ignacio. Stopping multiple times so the guide could get a Tamale, a coke, and then to leave his key for his Uncle.  The road was paved only part way, very bumpy due to the continuous rain that falls from May through November.  Driving we crossed two rivers, wondering how its even possible to visit during the rainy season.

Once we arrived we set out on foot.  For a 1.5 mile trek through the jungle.  The same trail the Mayans followed.  And, the same trail the locals took the archaeologists on in 1986.  That was the first time it was seen by outsiders.  And, only opened to the public since 1997.  The 1.5 mile trek involved three river crossings.  Thank you white Crocs (that Faina wants to discard but that I love so much), ultimate in amphibious gear.   Besides aqua socks I guess, but, I was already told once by Faina I wasn’t allowed to own a pair.  At the entrance to ATM was a picnic area, where we stopped to eat our provided lunches.  Some type of hummus sandwhich, more dry like stuffing though.  Good.

In the distance you could hear the rushing of water.  The entrance to ATM lie just beyond the picnic area.  Purposely set up to build the excitement of the paying customers.  More like a base camp for the scientists, but worked for the tourists.  Especially when you are the first group going in and you know others hike the trail behind you.  Speeds up your pace, got to avoid the crowds.  Always a good feeling to know your the first ones in that day.  Just like the Grizwalds at Wally World.

To enter the cave was even more extraordinary.  A full swim through the entrance.  No possible way to stay dry.  In amazingly cool and refreshing clear water.  Gently flowing out of the mouth and through the Belizean Pine Ridges.  What a rush to know that you are doing what Mayans did thousands of years ago.  Walking on what  use to be and still is to some, sacred ground.

Further still, an hour of spelunking is required, through small caverns, chest high water, bats, and traversing through pitch black (without our provided headlamps).  Again, the Mayans used flame torches, flickering in the slight breeze.  Believing that the sound of lapping water and reflection of the flame was the voices and visuals of Gods of the underworld.  To the Mayan caves represented the entrance to the underworld.  A sacred place where offerings were made.

Where our spelunking ended our rock climb began.  Scaling 30 feet to a grand cavern open with 30 to 40 foot ceilings.  Exactly where the Mayans would bring their offerings.  Food, drink, blood, and human sacrifice.  The ultimate discovery being that of the ”Crystal Maiden”.  Named so for how she shimmers in the reflection of light.  Created from the water leaving deposits after flowing over her.  The return was continuous reflection.  Trying to grasp how the Mayans possibly brought all those items in there.  I could barely keep myself afloat, let alone carry huge clay pots.  Think about it.

Heading back inland. On the 9th we took the 0830 water taxi from Caye Caulker to Belize City. Catching a local bus to San Ignacio. No Cheetos smuggling this time. Arrived in San Ignacio at around 12:30. A small town of 13,000 in the Belizian mountains, on the west of the country. And what will be our entry point into Guatemala.

San Ignacio is an adventurer’s oasis in the jungle. Filled with activities that could keep you there for days if not a few weeks. If you have enough money to keep you going. Guided tours (which most of them have to be) range from $30 to $400 US per day. Guides are required because much of it occurs in nature reserves or archaeological sites deep in the jungle, requiring a good effort to get to.  More on that later.

All assortments of food could be found. Indian, Chinese, Italian, American, Mexican, and local. Sean and I spread the love around a bit. Doing a bit of each during our three nights in San Ignacio. Lamb with rice and beans, Pork Chops, Shrimp Burgers, Pizza, and the icing…hand made shrimp stuffed Jalapeno Poppers. D, the best ever! They had mozzarella sticks as well, but didn’t get them. Stomach is shrinking a bit. An appetizer and a meal is too much now. Amazing how big American portions are when you step away from them.  Although, I think that’s common knowledge now.

Places to stay were inexpensive as well. We stayed at Central O’tel. $24 Belizian or $12 US. Split two ways, $6 a night US.  Room was decent and the shared showers had hot water.  Although, the guys shower didn’t have a shower head so we both just used the ladies room.  Also, the manager of the hotel was an X-New Yorker.  Use to sell crank, crack, marijuana, speed, whatever in the 70s and 80s.  Said he got out because he wanted a slice of paradise and all his buddies were dead or in jail.  So, he married a Guatemalan and moved to Belize.  Seemed that most people in San Ignacio had some dramatic connection to the states and ended up in Belize.

From San Ignacio we spurred out on two other adventures…

Trevor does the heavy lifting in terms of the blogging for the website.  I figure I’ll add some color commentary from time to time. And that time is now. For those of you that know Trevor, I have found his bizarro other self and what Trevor would be doing if stuck on an island off the coast of Belize.

This man is none other than Jolly Roger that Trevor speaks of in the blog about Caye Caulker.  Jolly Roger is a Gargantuan man of 400 or so lbs who spends his nights grilling shrimp and barracuda all while dancing and singing Reggae.  Jolly Roger stopped us while walking along Front street to a sweet serenade of “No, woman, no cry” and the promise of the best food in Caye Caulker all in the impossible to understand on the first take Caye Caulker [Caribbean] English. But since there was the Australian group in front of us there were no seats left at the picnic tables so Jolly Roger persuaded us with all we could drink Rum and Cokes while we waited. We waited, chatted with Jolly, drank more Rum and Cokes, and watched Jolly grill, dance and sing reggae.  I could see Trevor taking it all in…

I think Trevor has already found his next job…World Famous Jolly Trevor.   Well at the very least I think Trevor might have a whole new bag of grilling tricks when he gets back to SD…No, woman, no cry…

After fighting our “stout” hangover we mustered back to the square. Where we waited for about 20 minutes, hoping to catch an express bus to Belize City. But, no express bus. Just a local. If you ever wondered where our old school buses go, they go to Belize. Like the cool kids we are we sat in the back. Of course, only to remember that its the bumpiest seat on the bus.

The local stopped about 73 times between Orange Walk and Belize City. Turning a 30 minute commute into two hours. Not bad though, when you’re cruizin Belizian style. Letting the wind blow on your face and checking out the country side. A smile graced my face multiple times during the ride. I couldn’t help it. Remembering to my childhood drives from Manhattan to Topeka, KS. Looking across the countryside wondering what was beyond the horizon. Again, the same feeling washed over me. But, this time, instead of my Dad making a bee line to Sam’s for our Bi-Annual grocery trip…I could take the time to find out. All I had to do was go.

From Belize City we took a water taxi to our next destination, Caye Caulker. Pronounced Key Caulker. It was $30 Belizian and took about 45 minutes. Again, no time at all when you have a caribbean breeze encircling your soul.

Upon arrival we cruised the main drag, Front street. There are three main streets, Front, Middle, and Back Street. All dirt, signs stating “Betta No Litta, Streets Made For Barefoot Walkin”. Along with warning signs stating “Weener dog crossing” where sure enough I saw a weener dog cross the street. They try and sell you on renting a bike, saying it will take you only two hours to cruise the island. You can walk it in 30 minutes. So, no sell on the bike. After a block we found our next “hotel”. For $30 Belizian a night we had two beds and a private shower. For you math buffs thats $7.50 US per person a night for a hotel on the beach. In my book, that justified a lobster lunch, for $20 Belizian or $10 US.

During the evening we discovered our first real bummer on the Island. The internet, it cost $15 Belizian an hour. Not very 30casa30.com friendly. But, for our “fans” we pained it out so we could keep you updated. Donations can be paypaled to trevorhague@hotmail.com. ;o) After that we meandered over to Raggamuffin tours where we booked a spot on the next sailboat off the Island. A snorkeling tour leaving the next morning at 10:30 am for $85 Belizian. After which we had dinner with an Australian tour group at “Jolly Rogers”. Our stomachs full we retired for the evening, also in anticipation for our journey the next day.

We awoke in the morning, ate some breakfast, did some emails, and then headed to the docks to board our vessel, “The Reggae King”. Heading to three snorkeling stops on the 2nd largest reef in the world. I for one had never snorkeled before. But, the purchase of my underwater camera case specifically for this trip and the excitement of actually using it for its intended purpose overshadowed any thoughts of drowning. Which, I almost did twice…trying to use my camera case. How in the world underwater divers take the photos they do, I have no idea. I just kept being pushed around everywhere, fish darting off at the last second, me begging them to hold still for a photo. They never listened. Then, while focusing on the fish I would forget I was underwater and suck in seawater.  Having to scurry to the surface to breath…ultimately missing the shot.  Sean kept saying he saw a beached whale sitting on the coral…I never saw what he was talking about…

Sean and I completed our first country on the 5th. We entered Belize through Chetumal. Stopping on the Mexico side to buy a bus ticket for 10 Belizean dollars or 5 US to Orange Walk, Belize. Erp, if you are out there and reading you’ll be happy to know that the border crossing between Mexico and Belize is the Cheeto smuggling route. Our bus, filled with tourists, stopped off multiple times to hand off huge bags of Cheetos to eager addicts. One time stopping at a Casino for the mother of all deliveries. Our driver didn’t even get out. Sean and I watched as several people opened up side compartments on the bus and removed Cheetos from the undercarriage. Not to mention every store had Cheetos (crunchy, puffs, habanero, or twists to choose from).

As far as customs, it didn’t take long.  But, it took us into the night with the bus ride and stopping off for illegal Cheetos deliveries. We were dropped off in Orange walk at around 8 pm. Our first night dropoff. So, we went to the firestation and asked for directions. Assuming firemen in all countries must be trustworthy. We were right…he directed us to our next resting point, Lamanai Riverside Retreat:

We saw the “wild childs” of the Mennonite community during breakfast the next morning. While we were eating breakfast waiting for our tour guide three Mennonites came to the bar. A young man and two women. One with child. It was 9 am. The guy had a beer and watched television while the ladies sat back with a strawberry Fanta. Rebels, watching TV. He momentarily paused on a Spanish channel where a guy was licking a girls face. His wife, I assume, rolled her eyes and he changed the channel. Wonder what their parents would say if they caught them.

After our Mennonite encounter we were picked up by Reye’s tours and headed to Lamanai. Lamanai is another Mayan ruin site. Again, only 1% has been excavated. Why, because it is hard to get to. During the rainy season only accessible by riverboat. Which we took to the site. Seeing crocodiles and doing some birdwatching along the way. We hoped to see a Jaguar swimming across the river but our luck wasn’t with us.

On our river trip we met two Germans, a young married couple. Taking “holiday” in Belize for three weeks. They joined us for dinner at our Riverside Retreat where we were introduced to the local pets:

Sean and I continued to drink the local beer well after the Germans retired, Belikin. Choice of “beer” or “stout”. Stout stuff is right. Stout enough to make us kiss crocodiles, Sean commit to a 0430 run with the owner, and me sell my truck to the owner. Now I just have to drive it down. $34,000 Belizean dollars, ($17K US). Pops, lots of money to be made bringing cars down to Belize. Perhaps the Hagues and Schrams should start a business. They love their Dodges down here. Saw one with 140,000Km, Dodge 2500 for $72000 Belizian. The owner even threw in airfare back to America. Faina, what do you say…we could live on Cheetos and spend our lives driving the Yucatan!!??