When the roar of the engine morphed into a kitten purr and our boat approached the Caye Caulker pier, we did a quick inventory check. Palms dancing, tic. Beach bleached by the sun, tick. The island’s motto, “Go Slow,” lazily painted on a sign stuck in the sand, marks. I gave my partner in crime a private smile. This was the place. We had escaped … for now.
Going up and down against a small island of Belize in the Caribbean Sea was not in the original script. The plan had been to fly to Belize to try a quick eco-adventure before crossing the border into Guatemala. But we had gotten greedy, and four days later, we were still there with our hands trapped in the action flask. Jungle walks, eco-tours, jaguar watching, cave tubing, Mayan ruins and mountain bike treks. Where would it end? The equatorial heat was on. We needed a place to hide for a couple of days. Somewhere a man might find a secluded beach and lie back and think of England, or any other place he would rather not be. After doing some discreet inquiries, we learned that there was only one place to hide, and only one man powerful enough to help us get there. The man known only as “The boy at the ticket office at the maritime terminal.”
So we paid for our ship’s passes with small, unmarked bills, climbed aboard the first island-bound ship, and left the spoils of our onshore adventure in our wake. Not that the warm blue waters off the coast were fooling us. Home to more than one hundred and seventy islands, or cays, and the world’s second-largest barrier reef, it wouldn’t be easy to keep our hands off a wealth of water fun that has tantalized travelers since Blackbeard and his gang of Buccaneers they crossed these waters. In XVII century. However, as we stood on this modest dock and watched our escape ship leave the dock, the captain turned to us with a reassuring advice: “Relax, mon. You are now in Caye Caulker.”
If Gilligan had ever been in real estate development, the city of Caye Caulker would have been his Big Apple. Sleep peacefully on this slip of an island, the cluster of brightly painted ramshackle beach hideaways, deserted beach lots, scattered fishing boats, palm trees, sand-floor restaurants, dive huts, and salty old sailors holding bars to 11am in the morning, makes for the perfect getaway retreat.
Caye Caulker’s crown jewels are minimalist pleasures. There are no international resorts, flashy nightclubs, or rush hour traffic. Do you remember the motto? Go slow. Our mission – and yes, we decided to accept it – was to find a bungalow for as little as $ 40 a night on a quiet stretch of squeaky white sand, delight our palate with a variety of seafood delicacies, and then talk over a drink. in a beach bar watching the sun slide under a sheet of blue Caribbean sea. This message will be pleased in five seconds.
Before long, we put on the “no shoes, no shirt, no fuss” dress code and “sarong, bathing suit, smile”, and we were immersed in the welcoming band of eclectic castaways. It soon became clear that local beer from Creoles, Central Americans, and Europeans posed little threat to our relaxation plans. However, we would have to keep an eye on American retirees wandering the streets in old, rickety golf carts, sending dogs, children, and tourists prowling for shelter.
For three perfect days we hid behind sunglasses, cocktail umbrellas, and lobster menus, wondering if maybe, just maybe, there would be no more calls to action, and life really was a beach after all. Then one night, while we were minding our own business with a pair of tall Panty Rippers at Popeye’s Bar and Restaurant, the waiter told us that a man had been asking questions. “Did you know someone who would like to explore the reef?” “Have you ever seen a tourist dance so badly with the reggae band that they couldn’t show their faces around the island?” The next morning, we went to see a man on a snorkeling tour.
While seasoned divers prefer the more exciting spots in the waters of Ambergris Caye, the beautiful and calm reefs of Caye Caulker provided the ideal setting for novice divers like my nervous companion, a Canadian mountaineer, much more at ease in a game of ski than a pair of fins.
After the initial disappointment of knowing that this was not my chance to wear a tight-fitting rubber suit in public, the reef snorkeling trip turned out to be a fantastic experience. We were in awe of the incredible variety of fish, eels, and spectacular coral formations. The highlight of the three-hour tour was Shark Ray Alley, where nurse sharks circled our wary group from a distance before entertaining themselves to get a closer look, and southern stingrays glided their expansive wings over our bodies. They both turned out to be fairly harmless, though perhaps a bit cool for a first date.
For the rest of the day hardly a word was spoken. The mountain girl and I moved to our secluded spot in oceanfront paradise, soaked up the afternoon sun and flipped through the back issues of discarded Mexican celebrity gossip magazines in our room, anything to keep us going. Away from the fact that our lazy days were numbered. . Back in the bungalow we hatched our plan. We weren’t giving up our life of leisure so easily. We would go down to party. Ambergris Caye was waiting for me and I had a birthday to celebrate.
Ambergris Caye, the largest, most developed, and expensive of the Belizean islands, is well suited to the first-class vacation seeker, with a variety of villas, luxury home stays, and resorts to choose from. To prepare for our last stop, we checked into the mysteriously named Sun Breeze Beach Hotel, near the main town of San Pedro, to enjoy some amenities and pampering. The spacious rooms, resort-style pool, hot tub, massage studio, chic outdoor bar, and world-flavored restaurant were a world away from Caye Caulker’s gilliganism, but for just $ 125 a night, my intern Thurston Howell, the third, was calling.
Pampered, indulged, and fed in ways only money can buy, we climbed to the gazebo above the hotel bar. Sliding into the hammock, we witnessed one of the most beautiful sunsets the Caribbean has to offer. Swinging back and forth with a birthday cocktail in hand, I could really appreciate how delightfully removed we were from anything that resembled an office cubicle. The contemplation over, I made my final charge in the evening. Crazy Canucks Bar, crazy Canadian in tow, we drank, laughed and shamefully danced to reggae music until dawn.
The following days we gorged on water sports as fast as Ambergris Caye could deliver. There was scuba diving among some of the most beautiful coral reefs in the world, sailing tours of the island, deep sea fishing for sailfish and barracudas, water skiing and paragliding on the sun-drenched beaches. Oh how we celebrate!
Our hunger for aquatic adventure was finally satiated, we hiked around town, put our butt on the nearest bikes for rent, and headed to the far reaches of the island. Crossing a small river on a very hard-powered ferry pulling a rope to the less populated north island, we pedaled along remote dirt roads lined with wide palm trees. Stepping out of the brush to the beach at the edge of the blue Caribbean, it was a leisurely stroll along long stretches of squeaky white sand to the “monetary” end of town.
The north beach is home to luxurious bungalows and private beach villas. I reflected ambitiously on the For Sale sign outside a particularly hedonistic abode. Apparently the former owner wasn’t happy about driving his 80-foot cruise around all that coral nonsense to moor in front of his beach palace. Being the enterprising type, he had used some sticks of dynamite to blast a neat little driveway straight through the reef. Unfortunately, the government did not see him that way and sent him a fine large enough to pay off Belize’s national debt. He was last seen paddling a canoe in the direction of Cuba.
A little further on we come across Captain Morgan’s Retreat, the scene of the original Temptation Island show. While we were out of the Mecca of televised drama, many poignant memories came pouring in. Amber and Troy whispering under a palm tree, probably discussing the effects of global warming. Shawana got rid of Gary and confessed to Chad ‘that you had me in’ are those things real? ” At that moment, I couldn’t help but appreciate the truly important things in life. I turned to the ski bunny and told her she had such a beautiful smile that it could almost pass as cosmetically enhanced.
Pedaling down the beach into town one last time before heading back to the mainland, we said goodbye to all the things we love about the keys. The lazy palm trees, the ivory white sands, the aqua blue waters, the hammocks swaying in the breeze, the friendly faces, the plastic fountain of whales and dolphins splashing water on Jesus outside the pink mansion of Jehovah’s Witnesses. . the fact that? Regardless, for a couple of repeat offenders on adventure travel, it sure was a good place for a day or two pass.
Some have said that I spend too much time living in a fantasy world, that I need to control reality. Sometimes I think they are right. But then again, they have probably never been to the Belize Keys.