Belize without a map
Belize City, Belize
I finally got my oil changed on my last day in Mexico. I rotated the tyres, changed the air and oil filter and had a confusing conversation about the fuel filter in Spanish. I didn’t care I didn’t understand any more, it was time for country number four on my world tour. After 4 months in Mexico it was time to leave. I had a final breakfast at a local cafe and dumped about 40 coins for my 52 peso bill before heading off the to the border. After seeing all the Belizean cars queuing for fuel I thought it best that I get in the line as well, just as well, I would later learn that gas is $11 a gallon over the border. Why do the Americans complain?!?
The guard at the border hit me for $10 to leave and had the gall to suggest other tourist pay him $25 for the amazing “service” of pointing out where the car import office was. I don’t think so. I sorted out my paperwork and headed over into the free trade zone between the borders. I got my $5 wheel spray and waved off the guys attempt to sell me insurance. I couldn’t just drive through though as one of the customs ‘helpers’ was keen to point out. He jumped in and we went back to get my wheels sprayed, at least that’s where we were going until I told him, to his amazement, that I had already done it. He also wanted to sell me insurance but I said I had no cash. We turned around and went back to the immigration place. Somehow I got away without giving him any money.
I was given 30 days and the same for my car. My papers all in order I drove my car to the border where it was vaguely inspected by the disinterested guard. He mostly wanted to know how much my bike was worth. $100 if I was lucky, I didn’t mention the laptops, camera gear and guitar. All of this business was conducted in English which was nice, its always nice to be understood. I was soon through and went to the office over the border to pick up some insurance. Since its $29B for a week and only $60B for a month I went for the longer time*. You never know. Sadly I learned that the disease of speed bumps has spread to Belize too but the roads weren’t too bad, the lack of signs sent me off down a dirt track that I learned would have soon brought me to my destination but taking no chances, and possessing no map, I turned back to seek out the highway turning I had missed.
A hour or so later I was in Orange Walk and with some local currency in my hand happy to be able to buy a drink. I am slightly ashamed to say I was glad to see the Queens face on a bank note. Kinda feels like coming home somehow. Now should I stay or should I go. Accommodation options in Orange Walk were limited, and most people only stopped to go on the river trip to the local ruins. I had just come from 3 major Mayan ruins so wasn’t that bothered about staying. Belize city was only an hour and a half away with more options, certainly for accommodation so I picked up some supplies and got back on the highway. I say highway… it was a paved road. Mostly without potholes.
Outside the SEA hostel I met the Canadian guy I had been chatting to the previous night but some strange force made me keep going to my other choice, the Seaside Guest House. It sounded so tranquil, serene and peaceful. What could go wrong?
The gate was opened by some aging American dude who obviously had had a few too many beers. He was followed by an older American woman who was shouting at him. I had them pegged as other guests and hoped they wouldn’t cause a problem. I stood in the common area trying to get some service for 10 minutes but there was no one about. It looked like a cool hostel though, lots of drums everywhere and a great library. I found some staff upstairs and it turned out the drunk couple were the owners. Seems like they had been at this all week.
I met up with the other guests, got checked in and a group of us headed over to find some Chinese food. We managed to pick up a local bum who I had asked directions from, which ended up costing me a bottle of coke to get rid of him. We were also on the street it says specifically in the guidebooks not to walk down during the night. 6 people shouldn’t cause a problem, right? Belize city is pretty grotty, the roads are in terrible shape, people hassle you for change everywhere and there is too much trash. Shame really, they have some nice architecture and the working people are friendly enough.
Back at the hostel we found there were another group of guests checking in so we all moved upstairs with a few beers in an attempt to be social. Mitch, the owner, brought us up a couple of drums and we started talking about buying a batch of local rum. His partner Diana had been drunk and embarrassing downstairs with the new guests and she soon came up to have a chat. She then started ranting about being mugged at gunpoint and how the Belizean Tourist Board were going to close them down if they had any more complains. It seems the tourists have been complaining about the hostel. We all wondered why. The other guys seemed to find it highly amusing that Diana seemed to take a shine to me, but at least she was being nice.
It started raining outside and we all felt sorry for poor Mitch who was out getting our booze. He came back and we started doing some serious drinking. Everything was fine, we had the guitars and bongos going.
I found out Vanessa had the Canon 40D and we chatted about photography. She said she was a photographer but I soon caught her out on that one by finding out she didn’t know how to set the white balance :p Faker!
Then everything seemed to go wrong. Diana was getting increasingly drunk and shouting about tourists ripping her off. Mitch managed to calm her down and send her back to bed but she was soon back up and not only shouting at poor Mitch but also now accusing everyone upstairs of not paying our bills. We had a tab open downstairs so thought this wasn’t a problem. I got my guitar out too and was trying to teach Mitch a song when she came over, grabbed the bucket of ice and threw it all over him. I didn’t get wet but I moved my guitar into the wall. I wasn’t impressed!
The rest of the evening consisted of everyone else talking to both of them trying to calm them down but mostly just trying to get rid of them. Mitch wanted to stay with us and chill, Diana wanted to kill him. She came up and kicked the locked door in, was screaming and shouting. We wound up retreating to one of the dorms and whispering behind the doors. Even that wasn’t enough and we got told off for that too. It was a very weird night.
Mitch and Diana. More drama than Mexican Soap.
* 1 day – $12.50B / 2 weeks – $46B
oil change/breakfast/getting rid of change/queue at gas station/border/$25 guard/spray/belize border/insurance-12-30-46-60/wrong road-no signs/orange walk-atm/belize city/heat sink paste/chinese directions/meet the canadian outside SEA/finding hostel/bad roads/drunk owners/hangin downstairs/check in.park up/invited to dinner/olly.jo.vanessa./ATM-shower/belgian couple.john-laurie/walk to chineese/pick up bum for directions/coke/peotry back to hostel/new arrivals downstairs/few beers/row/uncomfortable/go up stairs/rain on baloncy/dog shit/bongos-mitch.diana/diana talking to me/rows restart/mitch goes for rum/guitar/throwing ice/vanessa photographer/diana accusing us of not paying/getting weird/kicking door in/hiding in dorm room/3.3-am
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