abundance

This is going to be a long post. I have 10 days worth of catching up to do, starting with Amigo’s Bar in Belize…

Actually I’ll get to that in a second. I picked Ben up in Cancun. And at this point I need to give big props to Ben’s wife for letting him join me on my adventure with a 6 week old at home. My laundry wasn’t done yet so we spent some time in the hotel parking lot organzing the truck and we stopped to eat lunch. Once the laundry was packed (have you ever seen a pair of gramici quickdry shorts pinned to a hanger? Odd) we set out for Chitzen Itza. We arrived in Villadolid after dark, found a cheap hotel and crashed. Spent the next morning wandering around the ruins and chotchke vendors. The ruins themselves were very impressive but the site had a very sterile feel to it. I don’t want to use the term Disneyland but it wouldn’t be entirely inappropriate. I didn’t want to say anything and ruin it for Ben but on our way to Tulum I mentioned it and he said he felt the same way. Both sort of disappointed. Tulum was cool, got there at sunset and the light was perfect. Crowded but cool.

I fixed my headlight and after a nice dinner we set out for Chetumal where we would sleep before crossing the Belize border. Border was a bit nuts trying to track down cash but the crossing itself was a piece of cake. Easiest of the trip so far. We stopped in Orange Walk for lunch. Fresh bananas, bbq chicken, red beans and rice. The central square was full of life until the rain hit. Then everyone bailed for cover except the two of us and crazy single tooth man who felt like ben wanted to talk to him from a distance of 6 inches. I ate my food, drank my coke and laughed at the scene. 2 white guys and crazy man alone in the previously bustling square soaked to the core. We set out for Belize City. The roads in Belize were excellent, even the dirt ones, and the country side was beautiful. Belize has a far more Caribbean than Latin feel. Both in the people and the architecture. Sugarcane farms broken up by the occasional village of pastel colored homes and vibrant colored laundry on the clothelines. Felt like a place where we could spend a few days. Then we got to Belize City. Ben was driving, I was navigating. Figured we head to the waterfront as in most costal towns it is heart of the city. A few miles of filth and squalor and we reached the dirty ocean. Nothing there. Ben didn’t want to ‘run the gauntlet’ back out of the city but we had no other choice. The streets were small and crowded and we laughed all the way through them. The juxtaposition of Public Enemy playing as the locals all stared and pointed at the gringos was just too surreal. Once out of the city we stopped to replace the pillows left in the hotel in Chetumal then back out to the country side. We set up camp at a butterfly farm in central Belize. Clean, safe and with showers it was a comfortable place to open up the tent and wander around taking pictures. I really like the rural areas of Belize. Belize City was gross, dirty and felt very unsafe. A huge contrast to the rest of the country. After we found our campspot we decided to head up the road to grab some food at Amigos. (the only restaurant for miles)

As we pull into the parking lot we realize it is happy hour. This should be fun. Climb out of the truck and hear someone slaughtering ‘honky tonk blues’ on a karaoke machine. I’m already laughing. We walk in and the room is a square bar, surrounded by black Belizeans, one family in a corner at a table and karaoke on the tv. We choose a table next to the bar and sit down. We order some more chicken with red beans and rice. I’m sitting nearest the bar. I hear people behind me arguing. I can’t tell if they are serious or not. Ben is just staring at them. The mix of English, Creole and Spanish makes it hard to understand what is going on. The girl gets her food and heads out. The voices get louder and this exchange occurs as she is walking out the door..

“I know what you are”

“oh yeah, oh yeah”

“I know what you are”

Door shuts

“you’re nothin but a whore”

Door opens

“what did you call me, you didn’t’ call me a whore”

“you’re nothin but a fucking whore”

By now the girl is back in his face and they are yelling at each other. She is dressed to the 9s for Saturday night, gold shorts, tight tank top showing off her “trust no one” tattoo on her back and big gold earrings. He is a large man, 6’ 4” or so looks like a construction worker. They shove each other a few times. I am not ‘looking’ but can tell what is going on over my shoulder. I see Ben flinch to stand up. I think he is going to intervene since the other 15 patrons are just going about their own business. I say ‘don’t.' He looks at me with fear in his eyes. The girl has a beer bottle and is threatening to crack it over the bar to use as a knife. Someone finally steps in. Some more yelling and pushing and finally she is escorted out. Everyone settles back in. And for the most part start laughing. Then the guy takes out his knife and starts flashing it around and yelling at the whole bar ‘you don’t think I can cover my own ass.’ Ben comments “Trust No One” is out getting her gun and on the way back to finish the fight. I say no matter what happens the 2 white guys are going to jail and getting blamed for it. Our food shows up and we eat as quickly as possible. No more than 5 mins later karaoke is back up and I find myself clapping for one singer after finishing off a rousing version of All My Love. The songs went on and on. Neil Diamond, the Bee Gees, Elvis. Duets, solos, our waitress, patrons. Just nuts. We paid our bill and went back to camp. Laughing the entire time about how unbelievable the last 2 hours had been. I’m still pretty sure “Trust No One” is out looking for a gun.

Next morning we crossed into Guatemala. Met some fellow Overlanders on bikes from Canada. The first 20miles of Guat was slick slimy mud. A Snickers bar and a Coke from a roadside stand hit the spot just right. Peanutopolis is what I tasted. We arrived at Tikal about 2 in the afternoon. Tikal was amazing. The only reason we left was because of darkness. The jungle, the lack of people, the ruins, the views all incredible. Our hopes for seeing a Puma was the only expectation unsurpassed. We ran into some more people on motorcycles. They told us about the town of Flores being nestled onto an island near Santa Elena. It looked like a perfect place to crash. It was. Felt like an Italian city far more than northern Guatemala. Narrow one way streets that were more like alleyways. Buildings stacked on top of each other. Abundant restaurants and nice people to talk to. We had dinner on the edge of the lake and crashed in our cheap hotel. In the room next to ours? The Canadian couple from the border crossing earlier.

And I’m going to break this into 2 posts. For my benefit and yours. I need to go eat breakfast. More to come this afternoon.

Dave Connors

Lead - Expedition Americas

http://www.expeditionamericas.com/