Oh, Belize City – a shiny, modern metropolis you are
not. My first thought upon seeing the
bright Belizean sun: “Holy shit, they
still have AIR STAIRS?!?!? Are we in an
80s movie??” Not to worry, the rustic charm
didn’t wear off in a hurry. The taxi that
took me to the bus station looked like a station wagon from the 70s, and when I say bus station? School bus.
Three hours. No A/C. Good times!!!
I was surrounded by locals, drenched in sweat, and transfixed by the gorgeous scenery meandering by my window. Lush, tropical jungle was everywhere, with hills shrouded in a fog-like haze. The bus stopped to pick up people along the road (not necessarily at actual bus stops). At one point, a woman got on with a huge box of homemade bread. She made her way up & down the center aisle selling bread, then was on her way a few miles down the road. There were small settlements here & there, but nothing really even large enough to term a village. We passed through the capital of Belmopan – again, not your average bustling city. When we finally passed the monument of the three drums signifying the town center of Dangriga, I was ecstatic. As I trundled my giant suitcase down the sandy dirt (main) road, I garnered a few odd looks when I turned down the offers of a taxi.
I was surrounded by locals, drenched in sweat, and transfixed by the gorgeous scenery meandering by my window. Lush, tropical jungle was everywhere, with hills shrouded in a fog-like haze. The bus stopped to pick up people along the road (not necessarily at actual bus stops). At one point, a woman got on with a huge box of homemade bread. She made her way up & down the center aisle selling bread, then was on her way a few miles down the road. There were small settlements here & there, but nothing really even large enough to term a village. We passed through the capital of Belmopan – again, not your average bustling city. When we finally passed the monument of the three drums signifying the town center of Dangriga, I was ecstatic. As I trundled my giant suitcase down the sandy dirt (main) road, I garnered a few odd looks when I turned down the offers of a taxi.
I finally arrived at Val's Backpacker Hostel and
settled in. After a nice chilly shower, I
decided that it was time to explore Dangriga (which didn’t take long). I had my first taste of the national drink,
Belikin Beer, at the River’s Edge café, which was virtually empty as it was
still early. I meandered my way to the Pelican Beach Hotel on the other end of town and took advantage of the happy
hour special on their back patio overlooking the beach. $3 BZ, or $1.50 US, for a beer. Score!!
After a tasty dinner of coconut shrimp & a few more beers, I made my
way back to the hostel and collapsed in bed.
I woke up refreshed & eager to continue my journey. I headed out in search of supplies, as I was
planning to do my own cooking during the 2nd week of my trip. At the store in town, I found a bottle of
coconut rum and the weird shelf-stable canned butter I had read about. I wandered through the weekend market on the
riverbanks, but found mostly used clothes.
I picked up a few limes at the produce market, but wasn’t brave enough to
check out the meat & fish section, as the stench was fairly overwhelming. With my shopping out of the way, I decided to
give the infamous “King Burger” a shot for breakfast. Not a fan of eggs, I asked if I could get a
burger for breakfast. Clearly I never
learn, as I didn’t specify that I would like it plain. It came out covered in a mystery orange sauce
that looked like Russian dressing, but it was otherwise pretty tasty. I started chatting with an American couple at
the next table, and they encouraged me to try the Belizean specialty of
fryjacks – bread dough fried in oil, covered in butter and sugar; sinfully
delicious, and just like my grandfather used to make!
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