Part Four

December 5 / 1998
Cancun - Belize

I am again trying to play catch up from our trip notes as we find ourselves in a very quiet (except for the barking dogs, continuous noise of firecrackers and Rastafarian music), tropical campsite in San Ignacio, Belize, a small town just a few kilometres from the Guatemalan border. But, back to Cancun and where Part Three left off.

Last night, on our way back to the campsite (which turned out to be home for a few days) we stopped off at a little bar/restaurant on the waterfront of Puerto Juarez. There was a large troupe of Cubans putting on a floor show which was fantastic. For the price of a drink we were entertained for over an hour by the large band, various singers and scantily clad dancers. The Mexican tourists (all males) seemed hypnotized by the floor show and we were treated to seeing them join the show on the stage. It was a good laugh.

That night we had the usual heavy rains sporadically throughout the night but the days always were sunny and warm. We took the ferry over to the Isle of Mujeres for the day, to have a day off from the van and to enjoy the beaches and small town on the island. It was really a laid back place compared to the rush of Cancun. Most people rented golf carts to get around for the day as the island is only eight kilometres long. We elected to walk.

The next day we relaxed for the morning, walking the beach, doing computer work and Diane writing postcards and letters and then headed into town to do some shopping and send some things on the Internet. We mingled with the tourists in the "Hotel Zone" (which is immense, it stretches for sixteen kilometres along a sandy spit. There was malls there that were nicer than most in Canada, and priced accordingly. We treated ourselves to supper at the Pizza Hut (which shared a space with KFC). The pizza was excellent but the service was poor so we didn't feel that it was much of a treat.

Cancun was becoming a bit much for us after that night so we took of the next morning to drive south and do some exploring, checking out possible camping sites on the way. We came upon one called Paamul RV Park that was so wonderful that we set up camp immediately and went for a great swim and walk on the beach. It was the first good snorkelling area we had found as it had a small reef several hundred yards out in the bay. In the days to come we were to spend many happy hours paddling around the warm waters gaping at all the fish. We were treated to stingrays, barracudas, squid and of course the great variety of colourful tropical fish. Our camp spot came complete with a little palapa wired with lights, power for the fridge, hot showers, clean washrooms, beach chairs and umbrellas, security, and an open air restaurant. There were many semi-permanent RV set ups, each under cover of a palapa.

The next day we headed up the road to Playa del Carmen, a small touristy town just sixteen kilometres north. Most of the resorts there were all inclusive and catered to the European market. It was fun to wander the beach and town just being another tourist among tourists. I found an English speaking AA meeting that evening and it was an end to a wonderful day. The only burr was driving back to the campsite in the dark. The road was under construction, it was raining, and traffic was hurried and abundant. Until you have experienced driving at night in these countries you cannot believe how draining it can be. There are so many hazards!

We had scheduled a time with Pat Beach to take me out diving and Diane snorkelling for the next day. The weather seemed threatening but we went ahead anyway and the sun came out just in time. Diving is always better with good light. The ride out to the reef was wonderful, Pat's sturdy boat and competent captain lessened our fears of the giant swells. The dive went well except there was a lot of surge, this made it not as clear and made me work a little harder. Diving is wonderful once you get comfortable with all the gear but I don't do it enough so that it is always a challenge.

Back on shore, we went for a drift snorkel (a strong current carries you down the beach and when you have seen enough you just walk back on the beach) that was full of fish, coral heads, and sponges that looked like nuclear power plants. The numerous barracudas finally made us edgy enough that we sought the shore.

We chatted for a while and then headed back to Cancun to send some email, post some letters, go out to a Mexican restaurant, and resupply before heading south. By now we knew our way around Cancun better but I still wished that we had either an old beater or an armoured car to negotiate the traffic. All drivers were very alert as the only rule was that the person in front has the right of way. Nobody would let you in so you just drove in (you are in front so you have the right of way) and they had to slam on their brakes to avoid hitting you!

Anyway, we found our way back to the familiar camp at Punta Sam where the owners greeted us like long lost friends. The owner's wife had decorated up their little yard with Xmas decorations and a tree that sang Xmas songs and Diane really admired it and let them know it. We were also welcomed by hordes of mosquitoes. It made us think of home!

We were up early and on the road before seven, wanting to get out of the city before it got too busy and also to allow us enough time to make to Chetumal, the town on the border to Belize. The drive down was pretty routine, the Yucatan terrain is pretty basic, flat, with low jungle on either side, and few towns.

We took a small scenic detour along Lake Bacalar (Lake of Seven Colours) and walked around an old Spanish fortress. Chetumal was a surprise. It was a well laid out modern city with a wonderful waterfront boulevard that wound for miles. We had arrived early than expected because of the good road so we had time to walk around the city for a few hours and to relax. We got to our campsite (previously reconnoitred) just before dusk. It wasn't much now, but once had been a wonderful place. Perhaps there wasn't enough business to keep it up. The setting though, was superb and we had the place to ourselves and we had everything we needed. We parked right above the ocean (protected by a retaining wall) amidst swaying palm trees. It had been an extremely hot and humid day and the ocean breeze was wonderful! We sat in our chairs, hand in hand, and watched the full moon rise in the ocean, the rustle of the palm trees our only company. The next morning we were treated to a sunrise in the same spot. Now we know why the place was called the Sunrise on the Caribbean RV Park!

Our time had come to leave the now familiar routine of Mexico and strike out into new countries. I have always found that moving onto new territory was fraught with fear and anticipation. We had tried hard to mentally prepare ourselves for the transition, to look for the good instead of fearing the bad. It is hard to explain the emotional turmoil one feels but it is very much a part of travelling.

Being calm, well rested and not being in a hurry is the way to arrive at any border. We arrived at the crossing by eight o'clock, the crossing was open but they informed us that the office that processed the exit papers for vehicles would not be open until nine so we began the waiting game, being hustled by money changers and chatted up by others in the line. It was hard to get across to them that we were not coming back into Mexico but were carrying on and had to turn in our vehicle permit. Finished Mexico, into Belize where we were greeted by a semi-official guide who spoke English (what a treat!) and guided us in the appropriate order to the various officials (five in all). Finished trading money and paying the commission to the guide (well worth the $2.50 US) and suddenly we were in Belize driving down the highway greeted by signs in English. Like so many other crossings, it was anticlimactic.

Belize was a surprise. It was a very laid back, quaint, British based country. Many of the people were "Blacks" and the houses (many on stilts) were neatly kept. We saw lots of manicured yards and many people out cutting them! In Mexico we could never even remember seeing a lawnmower. The roads had few vehicles (we surmised because of the high cost of gas, about $4) and the surface was in good shape. It even had shoulders and a maintained right of way that wasn't filled with garbage! Most of the people we met spoke a little English and the countryside reminded us strongly of rural Mauii.

Before we knew it we were entering Belize City. Here was a different side of Belize. The city was very old, with extremely narrow, undeveloped streets that were crowded with more people and bicycles than cars. We bumped around for a while looking for the waterfront in hope that it might be a little more serene but were disappointed when we finally found it. It was hot and humid, in the early afternoon and we both got the impression that we did not want to be anywhere near that city when it got dark.

Places seem to give off auras to me and this poor place was not a happy place. The positive side was that it was intriguing to see the different people, my internal compass was working well, gas stations were just like home (they even took Visa) and we got good music on the radio. The road west was beautiful, gradually climbing from the flat sugar cane fields to the more lush hilly interior. Ecotourism was big here and well advertised. There were only a few small towns along the way and very little traffic.

By the afternoon we found ourselves in the town of San Ignacio. It was smaller than expected, wedged in a small steep valley with a river running through it. We easily found a campsite by asking at a gas station (life is so much easier when English is spoken by most people). This left us time to explore the town on foot, getting quite worn out climbing the steep hills. There was a distinct Carribean flavour surrounding the town with reggae music booming everywhere. The buildings were all old, the streets narrow and our the impression was of decay (we found this to be the case in many of the humid, tropical areas we visited as it takes considerable effort to maintain anything in this climate). Our campground had suffered the same fate, and was very wet and humid with the expected contingent of insects. The owner told us that "Mitch" had altered the weather patterns and they had rain daily for several months, leaving not enough time for things to dry out as usual.

We had the place to ourselves except for a German fellow who was living there in one of those expedition vehicles with the giant tires. He was not too friendly and we got the impression he was burned out and was now just passing time. The night seemed long with the high humidity, barking dogs and firecrackers going off all the time. The surrounding vegetation was a treat though, with lots of flowers and a variety of birds sang to us during the daylight hours.

Early the next morning we rumbled up the steep cobblestone streets to get on the road to the Guatemalan border crossing.

Part 5

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