Part 5: Winding Down
Today, Friday, Rick will embark on his journey into the expensive hobby of scuba diving (I guess owning a sailboat makes us uniquely qualified to support such a habit). Rick will be taking a "resort course" with Elbert Greer, the divemaster at Innovative Watersports; I am invited to go along on the boat ride and snorkel if I wish, and Judy will be joining us as well. Today dawns breezy with a lot of clouds; welcome relief from the fierce sun.
We arrived at Innovative Watersports at 8 am. While Elbert gave Rick the first part of his lesson in the water, Judy and I claimed some chairs on Ramon's beach, chatted and read. At 9 am, they called us over, and we took a boat ride to Hol Chan. We were joined by Manuel, the boat driver, and Pat, another novice diver. All of the moorings at Hol Chan were taken by other boats-full of snorkelers and divers taking advantage of this spectacular nature preserve, so we dropped the hook.
While Rick, Elbert, Judy and Pat dived, I chose not to snorkel with Manuel (who was reputed to be a fantastic guide) because the wind and the chop were too rough for my taste. Instead, I focused on my book, risking seasickness. After about 45 minutes, we headed back to San Pedro. Instead of laying out on the beach until lunch, we went into town to pick up some munchies to get us through the rest of our stay. On the way back, we stopped at the Cannibal Cafe for lunch and then went to Amy's place, where I bought a ceramic pot with a frog climbing over its side. Amy had other enticing ceramic creations, but it would be too hard to hand carry them all back to the States.
We laid under the shade of the palms until about 3 pm, then took a long walk south along the beach, getting as far as Mata Rocks, more than a mile away. By the time we got back, our poor bare feet were raw. We sat outside a bit longer, and then Rick brought out a round of rum punches.
For dinner, we were both longing for pizza. Our guidebook assured us that we could have some at Fido's Courtyard, but once we got there, found no such thing on the menu. So we settled in for yet another beachfront dinner of lobster and red snapper, and closed our meal with an awesome frozen key lime pie.
Fido's Courtyard featured a number of unusual shops, including a gallery called Belize Arts which showcased pots and vases, ceramics, paintings and other local handcrafts. I would have loved to take all of it home, but reason and forbearance won out. We returned to Ramon's for the night along the beach and were "serenaded" to sleep by a bad reggae band playing at the Purple Parrot.
Saturday is our last full day. We woke more slowly than usual and watched a few heavy but brief showers bless the beach and our deck. When things dried off, we checked in with Elbert, who said that Rick could tag along on today's dive, a return to Hol Chan. While Rick went diving, I sat on the beach, getting my fill of the tropical sun. We have already booked a sailing charter in the British Virgin Islands for June, so I know it won't be long before I return to the Caribbean, but 4 months can pass very slowly when you are cold. After Rick came back from his dive, we had lunch en suite and laid on the beach some more.
Late in the afternoon, we decided to take a walk into San Pedro so I could finish off the rest of our film. Two young San Pedrans stopped us to take a survey about our trip, and we were happy to oblige. After a little while in town, we turned around and headed south along Coconut Drive. After our walk, we drank the last of our rum punches, showered, and did a bit of packing so we could enjoy more of our last day, Sunday. Just before 7, we walked down to Ramon's pier, where we were met by the water taxi which would ferry us and another party from Ramon's to Capricorn, about 4 miles north, for dinner. Capricorn was widely recommended as a romantic spot for dinner, particularly for Americans pining for steak and potatos. Though it was windy, it was a warm night and the boat drivers were skilled enough to keep us from getting sprayed. Nevertheless, by the time we arrived and were greeted by co-owner Annabel, my hair was a rat's nest, since I had neglected to put it up.
Dinner was in a cozy corner of Capricorn's porch. We did our best to ignore the two couples at neighboring tables playing "been there, done that" with each other, and were largely successful. The Capricorn Punch (rum punch featuring banana flavors) did a lot to blunt their obnoxious effect. We had a pretty nice dinner: I had escargots with mushrooms, and seafood in a sherry and mushroom sauce served in a clam shell with mashed potatos piped around it, and Rick had a mozzarella and tomato salad (the best he's ever had, he said) and the same seafood concoction in a crepe. We both had chocolate rum cake for dessert. Although the meal was awfully nice, it didn't quite live up to the billing it had received. Those guests who've eaten the filet mignon had more superlatives to offer, but we tend to shy away from steak when we are on island vacations. After all, how many fat, happy cows have we seen hanging around Ambergris Caye?
We didn't have a very long wait for our water taxi after dinner. We had another smooth ride back, so I leaned into Rick's arms and enjoyed the star spangled sky (was that the Southern Cross I saw?) and watched the phosphorescent glow of the surf crashing on the barrier reef out on the eastern horizon. Our last night was like the others. Balmy, breezy and perfect for sleeping.
Sunday is our last day on the island. We woke well before plan by our neighbors' 5:30 a.m. wake-up call, which kept ringing and ringing and ringing. They must have been on the 6 a.m. dive excursion to Lighthouse Atoll or Blue Hole, a long way off. We dozed a bit longer, til the now-familiar drone of small aircraft taking off and landing, and the whine of dive boats, coaxed us out of bed at 7. We pulled ourselves together, applied our daily annointment of sunscreen, and headed for Ramon's famous Sunday breakfast buffet. For about $10 per person, we had a basic American-style breakfast (aside from the re-fried beans), accompanied by live music. But we didn't linger long, wanting to get in another beach walk and some quality sun time.
After strolling and basking, we cleaned up, packed up, and checked out. A Ramon's golfcart dropped us at the Maya Island Air office and we took off for Belize International about 10 minutes early. When we arrived at the big airport, we reclaimed our bags, re-checked them with Continental, and had lunch upstairs. We sat outside in the "waving" lounge for a while, watching jets take off and land in the balmy air, but soon the noise and smell of jet fuel got to be a bit much, so we went to the departure lounge to wait for our flight to Houston and reality. The flight to Houston and Baltimore were unremarkable, and soon we returned to our daily routine.
So, how does this trip measure up to others, viewed from a distance of time and geography? What impressions linger? What do I tell others?
I am drawn to return, and we'll probably do so soon on a bareboat charter. We have traveled the islands extensively over the last 10 years, and a very few places pull us back. This is one of them, at least as long as it doesn't become more popular and commercial. I am attracted to the offbeat and laid-back, to places that people I know have never been, to destinations untrammeled by the tourist hordes (other than us, of course), and Ambergris Caye fits the bill.
I actually got over the fact that there wasn't an awesome swimming beach (a la Grace Bay on Providenciales) outside my front door. There was so much else going on here that I only missed it a little. The warmth and friendliness of the people, both native and expatriate, is one of the principal attractions. The wealth of natural attractions, especially the reef, is also appealing. But most of all, its the devil-may-care laziness that makes Ambergris Caye the perfect escape from civilization.
