We’re well into March now, the weather is good, swimming good, food and drink good and my foot is feeling pretty good, too. I admit I’ve been somewhat mischievous about my foot and what happened to it and I promise to tell all at the right time. Suffice it to say that I have had a very unique experience which, as a writer I view as climatic and therefore want to save it to the end; and, because of its very uniqueness, I don’t want it to overpower the narrative of my 2013 adventure in Belize, leaving the rest hum-drum and uneventful.

I will say categorically that it has nothing to do with kicking Evelyn in the ass, as one of my readers has opined. An ass is nothing to be kicked at and Evelyn’s is strictly off limits.

We are looking forward now to our annual visit with our daughter, Rhiannon and her partner, Andrew, and our granddaughter, Clea. Clea is 8 years old and this will be her 4th visit. She has learned to swim in the Caribbean and this experience coupled with swimming lessons at home in Ontario have turned her into a good swimmer. She is confident in the water, even exhilerated by it. She started snorkelling at the split last year and was so proficient at it that Luciana, our host, has a special surprise for her.

We have been able to chart their progress from Toronto to Atlanta to the Goldson International Airport in Belize. Jason, our favourite taxi driver in Belize City, is at the airport to pick them up and take them to the water terminal in the city. Jason waits as they visit the duty free and clear customs. He helps handle their luggage and the 12 bottles of red wine they have purchased on sale at $6 US. Don’t you just love visitors like that?

Jason phones Luciana to tell her what water-taxi they will be on, so we know now where and when to meet them when they arrive.

And there they are. We are standing under some palm trees near the termininal when we spot the water-taxi swing round the tip of the island leaving a wake of white froth behind it as it lunges through the waves towards us.

As the boat docks, we make our way out to greet them, then it is hugs and kisses and hand-shakes all around.

Clea is as excited as only an 8 year old can get but we are not doing badly as decrepit old grand parents either.

We immediately pick up on a routine we have established over the years.

Our cabana or apartment is over their cabana. I’m usually up making coffee by 7, am sitting out on the verandah dunking a ‘hard times’ cookie when Evelyn joins me. We chat and watch life on the road in front of us, the first tricklings of school kids, Belizeans on foot on the way to work, alone, in pairs or in small groups, bicyclists ghosting in and around them, the occcasional golf-cart taxi humming slowly by, headed south to the little Tropic Air airport or north to the village..

Usually the sun is up and shining through the littoral forest across from us. That’s where I take my  ASUS tablet to check up on current affairs as presented by the Toronto Star. We sit people watching and bird watching in the oasis beneath us, listening to the grackles grackling and a few song birds singing, but mainly waiting for the 8 yr. old bird in the nest beneath ours to wake up, spread her wings and fly into the arms of her grandma and grumpa.

The general plan is to be ready to head for the split by 10. We are not regimental about it but usually we are ready to go by then. We all have our bicycles and pedal at a leasurely pace to get there, about 10-15 minutes.

By the time we have unpacked our snorkels and masks and spread out our beach blankets, Clea, in full gear including fins, is in the water. It is a great place for us to swim because it is often glass clear, clean, firm sandy bottom and its bounderies are circumscribed by patches of sea weed.

I’m usually in next, following Clea who is snorkelling ahead of me, diving for shells and occasionally emerging above the waves with a sea star clutched in one hand.

We snorkel together for awhile, then we are joined by Evelyn and we track red snappers and 2′ barracudas through the water.

Then our Rhiannon and Andrew tag-team us and take over in the open sea-ring.

When the four of us are ashore, Clea is lured out of the water with promises of  sea-snacks like sun-chips and popcorn. Then she negotiates more time in the sea.

Sometime after 12, we bicycle back, stopping at shops along the way we need for lunch and supper.

(Special Note. We’ve been in the sun for a couple of hours. We all applied sun screen lotion before leaving. It’s supposed to be water-proof but you can’t be too sure about that. We all wore hats while out of the water and draped towels over our shoulders or put on shirts if we thought we had had enough sun. We were over-protective with Clea who is fair-skinned and our efforts paid off with a golden tan after 6 days. The tropical sun is ferocious on a clear or a cloudy  day. Burn-rays penetrate the clouds. And remember, you are getting direct sun rays and rays reflected by the water and the sands. Be very very careful.)

Then it is lunch time, an afternoon nap if possible, and maybe an afternoon swim in one of the swimming pools at the houses managed by Michael. When the owners are absent and the property has not been rented, Michael opens the gate and lets us in.

Then it is time for a sun-downer and supper preparations. Many nights we barbecue outside under an almond tree and eat our meal under the near-by festivally-lit palapa.

(Two SNAP SHOTS to end this post:

1. Michael takes us out to the Barrier Reef on a snorkelling expedition.  I watch from the boat as the serious snorkelling begins. Luciana, Evelyn and Clea head for the reef. This is Clea’s first real snorkelling adventure and it is on the second longest barrier reef in the world. I watch their fins stir up the water as they leave the boat far behind, headed for the reef. Then they disappear, all three of them, then after minutes of anxiety on my part, they reappear, one, two, three heads bobbing in the water.

Afterwards, by all accounts, it was a fantastic snorkelling experience. Evelyn said they snorkelled in water as deep as 20′ and Clea dove as deep as 8′ to retrieve a sea urchin for examination.

Back on shore, in the comfort of our cabana, with a double rum and water in my hand, Clea describes in detail what she witnessed and pointed out the fish on plastic identification cards.

2. Michael and Luciana bring their scuba gear to one of the swimming pools in an early afternoon. Luciana suits Clea up, explaining the apparatus. They enter the water and after some last moment instructions, they submerge. Clea is breathing air from the tank strapped to her back. She faces Luciana underwater and mimics whatever Luciana does. One arm out mirrored by one arm out. Two outstretched arms mirrored by two outstretched arms. She is totally composed, totally trusting Luciana. They stay under for nearly an hour, emerging from time to time to discuss what they will do next. Clea learns hows to clear her mask underwater. a remarkable achievement for a beginner. We are in awe.)

Next Post in 10 days. Life on the island continues…and the beat goes on

So, we are back on Caye Caulker comfortably ensconced in the second storey apartment at the Oasi, a chic open-concept apartment with a living-room futon and coffee table and T.V., full kitchen with gas range, small fridge, ample counter space and kitchen table with chairs and a roomy bright bathroom and a wrap-around verandah ccomplete with a full-length cotton hammock, a small rectangular table with two stools and a table with two clam chair around the corner.

My foot is still sore, not painfully so, not that I can’t get around, but I have to be careful how far I walk and I don’t even want to start bicycling. We walked up to the small local airport and watched a couple Tropic Airline 12-seater propellor planes fly in from San Pedro and Belize City, and take off again, picking up and off-loading their human cargo.

We walk ten minutes to the sea to check out the abandoned dock we swam and fished off last year but it was in such disrepair we decide to make it off limits for ourselves and guests. When she heard about this, Luciana said we could use the dock next to the old one. It is a first-class dock and she has made arrangements with the owner to let her guests use it.

Now it is time to re-explore the island.

Caye Caulker is approx. 5 miles long and 1.5 miles wide. Check out www.cayecaulker.com for more details. Suffice it sufficient for me to tell you that it has grown increbily from the first time we visited 12 years ago to now. Not in settled population, around 2000, nor in tourists as far as we can tell, but in hotels and restaurants opened we guess on the premise ‘if you build it they will come’. And they probably will but right now it is still under-crowded during the week and it still has it old-time charm.

Come while you can.

We make manageable forays into ‘town’ to get foodstuffs for our visit. We walk to the nearest grocery store to us, the China Town Super Market. Most grocery stores in Belize, Chinese or not, claim Super Store status. Don’t get your hopes up. China Town provides us with most of our needs, canned and dry goods, rum and miscellaneous items.

We  lug our stuff back.

For baked goods there is a great bakery not far away (nothing is) with fresh breads, buns and sweet buns and pastry-wrapped sausage and ham and cheese.

For chicken, there is the store next to the bakery that sells whole chicken and  cut -up parts.

For vegetables, there are kiosks specializing in vegetables and often offering fresh juices like orange, lime, pineapple, papaya and watermelon.

For fish and meats we visit Land and Sea for pork chops, pork roasts, breakfast sausage, hot italian sausage, shrimps and fresh catch if we can get it.

We shop them all, one by one, stocking up, but knowing that we don’t have far to go to replenish our stock.

In a few days we are back on our bikes transversing the island from end to end.

Except for the incredible surge in construction which has been going on for 6 or so years, nothing much has changed.

The roads are a mixture of sand and pulverized coral and shell which when levelled and rolled are very good. When not regularly cared for, however, what with some heavy rains and heavy-duty trucks brought in to haul cement and such-like, the roads get pitted and pot-holed, making for some bumpy bike rides. We are lucky this trip because a municipal election is coming up so  a grader and huge roller have been brought in from the mainland and the roads have been levelled. What’s new?

The people are mainly Mestitzos, a creole mixture of Spanish and Mayans, plus every other racial group in Belize, plus a goodly number of Chinese entrepreneurs,  plus a cadre of Jamaican rastafarians, plus a burgeoning number of North American ex-pats who are changing the landscape of Caye Caulker, plus tourists and travellers from around the world. It is a friendly and fluid society that by and large gets along very well with one another.

We swim daily at the split, a popular swimming area on the north end of the island unencumbered by the docks that spike out from the sea shore and attach to the prolifigating number of hotels.

Where we swim it’s almosts a cul de sac of sea water, safe and clean and beautifully coloured with many-nuanced shades of blue and green, interupted from time to time by  frothy white caps as the tide rolls in.

We snorkel there just for fun in water not much over our heads, snatching shells from the  sandy bottom and sea stars that we touch and release, often watching  young barracuda or silver snappers glide beneath us.

Afterwards, towelling off and catching some rays, we watch athletic wind-surfers and kite boarders decorate the skyline with the wild colour of their sails.

Later, after a shower to wash away the salt, we lunch in or lunch out, read a little, maybe write a little, sudoku, crosss-word puzzle, maybe nap, and then, before you know it, it’s time for a sun-downer before the sun goes down, and, remember, the curtain in the tropics comes down fast. It is dark by 6:30.

Supper? Sometime we eat out, more often we eat in. With a full kitchen, we can create extraordinary dishes and we do, but we also have the option to use the communal barbeque and eat our dishes under the lighted palapa in the front yard.

But don’t get me wrong. I’m waxing eloquent in a post-card kind of way and of course reality ain’t always like that. You drag your same sorry-ass carcass with you no matter where you go, your own ups and your own downs, your skits and your git-arounds. There is no place on earth is going to sort all that out. That’s something you’ve got to do yourself.

Truth be told, I think we’ve sorted a lot of that stuff out over the years.

Maybe the post-card scenes I describe are reverse snap-shots of what’s going on inside of me.

Maybe I’m getting closer to where I want to be.

Feb. 26

On the road again. Greg takes us into Dangriga after heart-felt goodbyes to Rita. We get the express from Dangriga to Belize City with a quick stop at Belmopan. The bus has seen better days but at least it is not a rickety old Blue Bird. Lots of luggage room  in compartments under the seats so we don’t have the hassle of trying to get our backpacks in the racks above us. Only downside is that the large windows are tinted so you don’t get the full colour of the trip up the Hummingbird Highway. On the upside, however, the trip only cost 16 bze each or 8 usd and it takes 1 1/2 hours instead of the normal 3 hours on the milk run.

Cutting through the city to the Novello Bus Station on Canal Street we notice a lot of construction on the infrastructure of the city, canals being widened and sanitized, sidewalks and roads being dug up to lay new water lines and plastic piping stretched with cables, but all the buildings look dirt poor and the store fronts are covered with red dust.

Now if all the bad boys would stop killing themselves and co-incidentally stop killing innocent bystanders maybe something likeable would happen to Belize City.

At the bus station, we are last off the bus on purpose, last to fetch our luggage, last to exit the station and by that time the frenzy for taxi fares has just about ended and we easily grab a cab for the water-taxi terminal. This time we choose the San Pedro Water Taxi over the Caye Caulker Water Taxi because of its schedule. It will get us to Caye Caulker faster.

We get return tickets at 32 bze or 16 usd each and after a 25 minute  wait we are sitting at the open back of a water-taxi powered by 3 200hp engines, skimming over the waves of the multi-shaded blues of the Caribbean Sea, sea-froth sprinkling us as we shift and turn under the Captain’s control.

45 minutes later we see the shoreline of Caye Caulker come into view, and as we get closer and closer we can identify the hotels and restaurants that lay claim to the beach front.

Nick of Nick’s Taxi Service, proud owner of a brand new battery-driven golf cart, is there to greet us when we disembark and ten bumpy minutes later he drops us off at the Oasi, a veritable oasis on Mangle Avenue, one block away from the Caribbean.

It is great to be back on Caye Caulker after being away for nearly a year. CC is a mid-sized island, south west of its big sister Ambergris Caye and its capital San Pedro, 1/2 an hour away by water-taxi. Over the 10+ years we have been visiting CC, it has changed dramatically, not always for the better, in our opinion, but you can’t stop change. You don’t have to embrace it but you have to accept it. Or not visit it. As we bump along on our golf-cart taxi, I feel elated. The colours and textures remain the same and the vibe is up-beat.

Luciana, the Italian owner/manager of the Oasis Apartments has been waiting for us and we are welcomed home. Her Belizean partner, Michael, owns and  operates a landscaping business and also manages properties and residences when the owners have returned to their country of origin. Together they make a formable couple, a dynamic duo.

We settle into the cabana or apartment above the cabana below. It is spacious and beautifully appointed, an open- concept room with a queen- size bed,  a large orange futon with sturdy wicker ends, a coffee table reminiscent of the tables Judd in Waterford used to make, a tv, a large armoire, a kitchen table and a full kitchen, and, of course, a full bathroom, which is not open-concept.

It is very hot on the island when we arrive. The Oasi is a block from the sea so we don’t get the constant sea-breeze to refresh us. But upstairs in our cabana we get a steady breeze when we sit on our rap-around verandah.

We are hungry and walk up Mangle Ave to the nearest local restaurant where Evelyn orders quesidillas and I order a red-snapper burger which arrives with a mountain of salad on top of the fish. It is delicious. Evelyn says her cheese quesidilla is good too.

On the way back from lunch, I admit to Evelyn that my right foot is hurting. Before we left Hopkins my foot was cut in an incident that I will describe in a later blog. Because it was still hurting quite a bit, we didn’t wander far from home and didn’t even take our bikes out (provided courtesy of the Oaisi) for several days.

But not to worry. We were able to shop for groceries. Michael  picked up a case of Belikin beer for us prior to our arrival and I bought a 60 oz bottle of One Barrel Rum from the Chineses Super Store for $30bze which translates into $15cdn. Not bad for an old man with a sore foot, eh?