Part 2: Ramon's Village and San Pedro
Upon picking us up at the airstrip, the cart driver expertly navigated the bumpy sand street, riddled with puddles from recent rains, around the airport and then about 1/4 mile past it, through the gates of Ramon's Village, into a quiet, lush tropical paradise. We stepped into the air-conditioned office, ran a credit card, and collected our keys and a ticket for a free welcome drink. Our driver then took us back out the gates, to the back entrance, and dropped us in front of our building. The building consisted of a two-story palmetto-framed building with a palm-frond thatched roof. The first floor was two units, separated by a breezeway; the second floor, with private outside staircases leading to each suite, also had two units.
We climbed up the stairs to our second-floor suite. Our driver showed us around, and promptly cranked up the A/C. (As soon as he left, I turned it off, opened the windows and door, and turned on the fans.) Our white-tiled suite had a king-sized bed, sitting area, and kitchen area, as well as a well-appointed bath. The 20-foot ceilings were framed with exposed palmetto beams and thatch, and the shared wall sported a mural of parrots and Mayan pyramids. Beyond sliding glass doors was a red-tiled balcony overlooking the beach and the sea . We were only one row of huts back from the water. Within minutes, I was enjoying the feeling of the tropics: soft breezes ruffling the sheer curtains, and palm fronds clattering outside my windows.
We rid ourselves of our too-warm travel clothes and headed for the Purple Parrot bar, which is located at water's edge next to a large deck and meandering pool (generally empty). With coupons in hand, we ordered the "special," the eponymous Purple Parrot, a frozen concoction of rum, Bailey's, cream of coconut, and pineapple juice. Very easy going down. We chatted with one of the other bar patrons; he was one of a convention of optometrists staying at the resort until about Tuesday, so we had a sense of who our fellow travelers would be for a few days.
After getting properly fueled-up, we wandered down the beach. As beaches go, this one is not very impressive. The beach is narrow, and the water edging it weedy and murky. Not particularly inviting for a swim. But, as we learned later, this is the trade-off that is made when the Western Hemisphere's longest barrier reef is just offshore. The reef keeps the waters inside it still and conducive to plant growth, which feeds the burgeoning sea life in its protection. Piers punctuate the shoreline; it seems every hotel, restaurant and dive shop has its own, and there is lots of attendant small boat activity. Hotels and restaurants sit on the beach, shoulder to shoulder, some tacky, some charming. Most of all, lots of people walk along the shore. The beach is, in essence, the main street of San Pedro. But rather then feeling congested, the beach has an air of lively sociability.
After walking a way's down the beach, we cut between two buildings and find ourselves on Barrier Reef Drive, where barefoot is clearly the order of the day. We noted a number of little shops, restaurants and adventure outfitters, as well as a few galleries. Music pours out onto the street. Soon, we find ourselves back at the Purple Parrot, downing Belikin beer and watching the start of the Super Bowl. I had little interest in the game (who was playing, anyway?), so we went to dinner.
Not wanting to wander too far afield our first night, we opted for dinner at Ramon's restaurant, a tile-floored thatch-roofed building adjacent to the Purple Parrot and a large deck for dining on nights when mosquitos are not an issue. Although it was early,
there were other diners, so I didn't feel like some geezing early-bird diner eating at 6 pm (which was really 7 pm according to our EST body clocks).
I decided to try conch ceviche as my appetizer, which Rick stuck with black bean soup. The lime-soaked conch morsels were tender and tasty, not at all raw and slimy like I expected, but the remaining ingredients included too much cilantro, a flavor that makes me cringe. For dinner, I enjoyed the first of many red snapper meals, while Rick had conch stir fry.
We went to bed early; it had been a long day. But around 1 am, I awakened to find mosquitos biting every inch of flesh not hidden under the top sheet. The itching drove me mad, so I took some Benadryl, applied insect repellent, and was able eventually to fall asleep.
On Monday, we woke, as we would the rest of the week, to the sounds of small planes taking off and landing, hammering and sawing (the docks are being repaired after the damage wrought by Mitch) and an occasional motorboat. Our ambitions for today are modest: to go grocery shopping and otherwise take it easy. Who knows what the rest of the day will bring.
I had packed a box of Pop-Tarts, a vacation staple, so we did not need to go out for breakfast. Shortly after breakfast, we headed out to the dusty, sandy streets of San Pedro. We found ourselves at Rock's on Pescador Drive which, in typical island fashion, had a limited selection of foodstuffs. Nevertheless, we would make do with what we could find and/or recognize. We got tortillas (fresh and warm, they would do for "sandwiches"), cereal, Parmalat milk, salami, tuna, Pringle's, a can opener, cinnamon rolls. These fine breakfast and lunch selections set us back less than $40 U.S.
After this excursion, we settled into beach chairs, watching the construction on Ramon's docks and pier, as well as the passing parade of schoolchildren, locals and tourists. After a few barely noticeable sprinkles, the sky cleared and a waitress from the Purple Parrot came by to take a drink order (Purple Parrots, of course). Around 11:30, we took a quick dip in the pool and then a stroll south along the water to a sandy village square with soccer goals, a private school and a cluster of time share condominiums. When we returned to Ramon's, we made ourselves a makeshift lunch of salami and mustard wrapped in tortillas, chips and pink lemonade.
Our beach chairs beckoned us back to an afternoon of catching rays, reading, snoozing and people watching. I most enjoyed the troupes of uniformed schoolchildren, jockeying for positing with clearly beloved teachers. I was reading A Civil Action, while Rick tackled A Man In Full. We made plans to visit the Mayan ruins at Altun Ha on Tuesday, took another dip in the pool, and had some more cocktails and Belikins before returning to the suite before sunset.
As became our daily routine, we showered, put on fresh clothes, applied bug repellent, and enjoyed a few drinks and munchies while sitting on our balcony reading, before deciding where to go for dinner. Initially, we followed our noses (barbecue) and ears (live music) towards Ramon's restaurant. Tables had been set up on the beach, but it looked like a private party; more than likely, a farewell dinner for the optometrists. Rather than crashing their party, we got drinks from the bar and sat on a beach chair, looking out to sea.
The breeze became a bit brisk, so we strolled up the beach towards Rasta Pasta at the Sunbreeze Hotel, which was nothing more that a large deck with a roof strung with red, yellow and green lights overlooking the sea. A live reggae band accompanied our meal of conch fritters, jerk chicken and grilled grouper, with Belikin to wash it down. Although we had been warned that Belizean dining could be pricey, we were not prepared for how WRONG that warning was. Our tab was $38. This was moderate by any measure, but a REAL bargain when you consider that it was $38 BELIZEAN, which, at an exchange rate of 2:1, added up to a very modest $19 US. We returned to our hotel via the beach, all the while enjoying a full yellow moon over the Caribbean.
