Our check-in time at our hotel in Punta Gorda was to be after 2 p.m. and we were arriving around noon so we exited the bus and found our way to a small restaurant open to the sides called Snack Shack. We had noticed it when we first arrived in PG and it seemed a popular and busy place. We walked into it and wandered up to the ordering window. Only burritos were available since it was past their breakfast time so John and I ordered each one. I had breakfast sausage (chicken) and he had beef. The tortillas were extra large and the fillings were tasty and took care of us in nice order. We saw also brownies under a glass cover and a pound cake which caused some interest. We topped off our meals with a piece of cake each and coffee/tea.
While we were eating we noticed a fairly young mother who wandered in and out of the kitchen. She had three children and we could hear only the Mayan language being spoken by here to her children. But, when other folks wandered in speaking English, she switched to an unaccented American dialect of English. Not only was she speaking those two languages, we caught her speaking the English Creole to the blacks who were working in the kitchen. And here I struggle to speak a little Spanish aside from English! Our curiosity got the best of us and we simply asked her about herself. She responded that she was born and reared here in Belize. My next question then was about what were her parents up to at the time of her birth. She responded that her folks were missionaries and had completed approximately 43 years in an independent mission here among the Mayan people. She stated that her dad at first used a motorcycle in order to get around to tend his missions throughout the south of British Honduras (now Belize). What an interesting coincidence in that John had booked our stay in a hotel in PG which was owned and run by a missionary couple. We would be staying in her parents' hotel. And this woman and her Mayan husband were the owners of the Snack Shack. As a matter of fact, we smelled muffins being baked and I asked if they were available in the shop. She said that they were for a hotel in the area (which turned out to be her parents'.)
It was nearly 2 now so we walked the four blocks to the hotel. Her parents were not there as they were in the USA. But, the person running the front desk showed up at about 2:20 so we were able to get into our rooms, turn on the air conditioning and hang up some of the sour, mold-infested clothing. There was no restaurant in the hotel but there was to be a breakfast in the top-most portion of the hotel. We showered with pressurized hot and cold showers and there were large fluffy and thirsty towels. There were even wash cloths provided for us. We put the window unit air conditioner on full tilt and the two overhead fans a twirling and situated the sour clothing such that it got full benefit of the dry air. We caught up on Internet, watched the foolishness going on between the political folks in the USA and finally drifted off to sleep. All without supper. I honestly do not think that either of us had one iota of desire for nourishment.
We awakened in the morning and went up to the breakfast room. We were the only occupants of the hotel that night. There were a couple of bananas, two banana muffins, margarine (ugh!), powdered milk, oatmeal, Cheerios, coffee and tea. Not exciting but it was just okay. We descended to our room, packed up our clothing and I finally was able to wear my Levis again. But, if any of you has ever caught the odor of a sour and moldy mop, that is exactly what I smelled like as I was wearing my perennially moist Levis. Now, this does work to one's advantage when entering a bus. One might have had a seatmate for a spell but suddenly one has more room to "spread out". We checked out of the hotel but were sure to wrap our electronics and passports in water-proof baggies. We had learned. Or, at least I figured we had learned and applied our knowledge. We walked down to the custom and immigration point and I saw the pilot of the boat that had taken us here a couple of days before. I knew he had the Punta Gorda to Livingston run so I asked him where the pilot was for the longer crossing over to Puerto Barrios. He pointed his chin at a young lad standing not far away. We went over and made arrangements to be aboard the 9 a.m.
Since it was only 8 in the morning and since we really did enjoy the environment at the Snack Shack, we decided to wander over that way for our last cup of tea and coffee in Belize. We entered and saw the mother getting two of her three children ready for school. We ordered coffee and tea and I let my eyes wander to the glass covered pastries and there appeared some fabulous caramel rolls. I ordered one to split and we sat down to await our launch. The rolls were made by a friend of the owner's and they were first-class, A-1. Simply wonderful. Now, you know that I had some misgivings about the launches outlined in the previous postings. This one was going to be over an hour and on fairly open seas. And, just the day before we had received word that the crossings were rough! Add the fact that I do not do well on the water when it is rough. Forget about getting wet.....I do not want to get sick! But, the roll was far too good to waste and I consumed it with delight.
The owner was very helpful to us and suggested that we would most likely get wet but there are options in the launch. If one sits in the middle front, the ride can be very bumpy but chances of getting drenched are far less than if one is planted in the back and on the sides. The owner assured us that this would be a far larger launch than the ones we had taken before. She told us that there would be room for about 30 passengers. That gave me some assurances since we would be in open waters which only yesterday were very choppy. I decided that if possible, I would select middle front. Forget my coccyx.
We finished our treats and wandered over to Immigration and Customs where we cleared passport control and paid our exit tax (USD37.50) and were pointed towards Immigration. Nobody there so we just waited in the shade for somebody to appear. Soon a large black man asked us which launch we were going to catch. We told him the 9:00 a.m. and he answered that there was nothing until 9:30. So, he cleared us and we waited for our delayed departure. We kept our eyes focused on our launch and when the first passengers began to head for it. we dashed ahead and situated ourselves in our priority places. Our bags were placed on a black plastic sheet and covered securely with another sheet folded over at the front and pointed back towards us. At least our luggage should arrive safely and maybe dry? We were joined by perhaps another dozen or so folks and were soon ready to be on our way.
We circled out towards the deep but before we went further, the helper handed each of us a life saver! Oh boy, what is ahead for us? Additionally each row was given a large, black plastic sheet which should help us keep high and dry during our crossing. Because inquisitive minds want to know, I turned around and asked a lady passenger how long the crossing should take. She answered one hour. I can take that! While this might be the end of water journeys for us, it was not to be for her as her final destination would be Honduras which was another hop by boat. It was rough and it pounded our tails often and without mercy. The tender and high-maintenance need not apply. It was only five minutes before I realized that if I were going to be dry (on my last dry digs), I would need to make a tent of my portion of the black plastic. I did that and stayed relatively dry. For all my misgivings, this crossing was the best of all. I might consider taking it again some time. The tail was sore but I will anytime take that to wet clothing.
The motor slowed and I emerged from my tent intact. Yea. My hand finally was at ease and I released my grip on my salvavida (lifesaver) and passport. We edged up to the dock, emerged from the launch and were met by a handful of men all offering to help us in varying ways. We knew what to do so walked straight up the street to Immigration where we had our passport stamped for another ninety days and then headed in the rain to the bus depot. Our next leg would take place in under one hour.
We awakened in the morning and went up to the breakfast room. We were the only occupants of the hotel that night. There were a couple of bananas, two banana muffins, margarine (ugh!), powdered milk, oatmeal, Cheerios, coffee and tea. Not exciting but it was just okay. We descended to our room, packed up our clothing and I finally was able to wear my Levis again. But, if any of you has ever caught the odor of a sour and moldy mop, that is exactly what I smelled like as I was wearing my perennially moist Levis. Now, this does work to one's advantage when entering a bus. One might have had a seatmate for a spell but suddenly one has more room to "spread out". We checked out of the hotel but were sure to wrap our electronics and passports in water-proof baggies. We had learned. Or, at least I figured we had learned and applied our knowledge. We walked down to the custom and immigration point and I saw the pilot of the boat that had taken us here a couple of days before. I knew he had the Punta Gorda to Livingston run so I asked him where the pilot was for the longer crossing over to Puerto Barrios. He pointed his chin at a young lad standing not far away. We went over and made arrangements to be aboard the 9 a.m.
Since it was only 8 in the morning and since we really did enjoy the environment at the Snack Shack, we decided to wander over that way for our last cup of tea and coffee in Belize. We entered and saw the mother getting two of her three children ready for school. We ordered coffee and tea and I let my eyes wander to the glass covered pastries and there appeared some fabulous caramel rolls. I ordered one to split and we sat down to await our launch. The rolls were made by a friend of the owner's and they were first-class, A-1. Simply wonderful. Now, you know that I had some misgivings about the launches outlined in the previous postings. This one was going to be over an hour and on fairly open seas. And, just the day before we had received word that the crossings were rough! Add the fact that I do not do well on the water when it is rough. Forget about getting wet.....I do not want to get sick! But, the roll was far too good to waste and I consumed it with delight.
The owner was very helpful to us and suggested that we would most likely get wet but there are options in the launch. If one sits in the middle front, the ride can be very bumpy but chances of getting drenched are far less than if one is planted in the back and on the sides. The owner assured us that this would be a far larger launch than the ones we had taken before. She told us that there would be room for about 30 passengers. That gave me some assurances since we would be in open waters which only yesterday were very choppy. I decided that if possible, I would select middle front. Forget my coccyx.
We finished our treats and wandered over to Immigration and Customs where we cleared passport control and paid our exit tax (USD37.50) and were pointed towards Immigration. Nobody there so we just waited in the shade for somebody to appear. Soon a large black man asked us which launch we were going to catch. We told him the 9:00 a.m. and he answered that there was nothing until 9:30. So, he cleared us and we waited for our delayed departure. We kept our eyes focused on our launch and when the first passengers began to head for it. we dashed ahead and situated ourselves in our priority places. Our bags were placed on a black plastic sheet and covered securely with another sheet folded over at the front and pointed back towards us. At least our luggage should arrive safely and maybe dry? We were joined by perhaps another dozen or so folks and were soon ready to be on our way.
We circled out towards the deep but before we went further, the helper handed each of us a life saver! Oh boy, what is ahead for us? Additionally each row was given a large, black plastic sheet which should help us keep high and dry during our crossing. Because inquisitive minds want to know, I turned around and asked a lady passenger how long the crossing should take. She answered one hour. I can take that! While this might be the end of water journeys for us, it was not to be for her as her final destination would be Honduras which was another hop by boat. It was rough and it pounded our tails often and without mercy. The tender and high-maintenance need not apply. It was only five minutes before I realized that if I were going to be dry (on my last dry digs), I would need to make a tent of my portion of the black plastic. I did that and stayed relatively dry. For all my misgivings, this crossing was the best of all. I might consider taking it again some time. The tail was sore but I will anytime take that to wet clothing.
The motor slowed and I emerged from my tent intact. Yea. My hand finally was at ease and I released my grip on my salvavida (lifesaver) and passport. We edged up to the dock, emerged from the launch and were met by a handful of men all offering to help us in varying ways. We knew what to do so walked straight up the street to Immigration where we had our passport stamped for another ninety days and then headed in the rain to the bus depot. Our next leg would take place in under one hour.
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