Roadspill

More from Saturday:

Spent more time hanging out with Heather, Elaine, Neno and the woman who looks like Joan. We bake in the sun and then head off to the local grocery, Chan's, for fresh fruit juice. Mango, papaya, watermelon... amazing. Tastes nothing like the dreck back home.

For lunch we hit a place called the roadside and enjoy some tasty fried chicken. Actually, it was from the roadside, not THE ROADSIDE.

At the Split, things are heating up: bikini contests. Okay...

For dinner we hit the place across from the hotel, but it is far too expensive. Entrees are like US$8!! Cha!!! We wander down to a place that is owned by a woman named Barb. Great beach bar. No food. Grr.

Back to the split where we learn that people in Belize who have killed people show it with a tattooed teardrop on the face. We meet a guy with two. And are careful what we say. And then bolt for safety to The Oceanside for what we had hoped would be Karoke and dinner. And maybe another Maurice fight. But it was just dinner. I watched hockey on TV while my toes played in the sand floor. The food was great: garlic pasta for me. Lots and tasty. And my innards are working fine. No you-know-what that usually occurs on all my trips.

We try some other Belize beer: Premium. Yeech. More expensive, less taste.

Wandering again, we come across some Garifuna drummers, doing a traditional dance making fun of white slave owners. Its not a great time to be white.

Caulker is so hard to explain: it is like the best of cottage country in Canada, with the best of Jamaica, with the best of... lawlessness. It's so great that I want to just stay. Lots of changes from the visit in 2000, but we discover that the Vancouver women were here then too. We don't remember each other which is probably a good thing!

Lots of short pixie girls dot the island. Those of you who know, know of what I speak. I was thinking who I wish were here with me. But I will keep that silent. No point pissing people off. But Janis gets a 4 star grade for her giving me the Pete McCarthy book on Ireland. It has been the best companion.

Easter Sunday:

Up early, but not early enough for the pre-sunrise swim. Made coffee and read the above mentioned McCarthy book. GREAT! Lunch was at a small bar that was under construction when I arrived on Wednesday. The jerk chicken was jerkless.

We went to Heather's and took kayaks out. We went to the other part of Caye Caulker past the split and hooked up with Maurice and his Eurowoman. It was totally Beverly Hillbillies: no lights, no phone, no motor car. We hang out for a while and then head back to the split, pull up the kayak and have a beer. On the way, we beach ourselves several times, and Brent tells me about the crocs that inhabit this part of the island. At one point we had to get out of the double kayak and push, but the mud was so deep that we sunk to our knees. Strange ocean!

The Vancouver women at Heather's are less friendly each time that we see them. Is this because they're from Vancouver? It's really weird. Brent and I head back to the hotel for more drinks and discuss travel, buying land in Belize, and citizenship here. Hmmm. Roh is out with her band buddies.

Buying land here is cheap and easy.... and it makes lot of sense as a 20 year investment. Just then, a fat pink guy drives by in a golfcart. Maybe this isn't the place to buy. And then an American helicopter flies over -- making sure that no communist stuff is happening on Caye Caulker. Being so close to Cuba, Belize is always under suspicion.

As I finish this, I am at the internet cafe and the Canucks have just won -- and there were 5 of us watching/listening to the game who call Vancouver home. Though not the Vancouver women. They were being bitter somewhere!

Go Canucks Go!