In the Land of the Mayans

This guest post is by Dave Tindell.

    Over her years in the travel industry, my wife Sue had befriended many colleagues who, like her, own agencies in this part of the country, and I had also gotten to know many of them. At some point early in 2019, somebody suggested that we all take a trip together. Now, giving a travel agent a suggestion like that means you have to just sit back and watch them work their magic, and before I knew it, we were booked to spend a week in the Central American nation of Belize, a place I'd never visited. Sue, of course, had been there before, inspecting properties. This time, all of us would just be going there for the relaxation. No business, all play. 
    So that's exactly what we did. Little did I know that before the week was out, I would have gazed upon Mayan skeletons deep inside a cavern, rappelled down a 250-foot cliff, chatted with fascinating expats over smoothies, dined on delicious Italian Bolognese sauce, and found out what a "gibnut" is. When you go to Belize, fascinating things happen. 
    All photos by Dave and Sue Tindell unless otherwise credited.

Saturday, October 19 -- Minneapolis to Belize

    Like so many of our trips, this one began with a drive through western Wisconsin into Minnesota for a night at a Twin Cities hotel. With an early-morning flight, that's the only practical option when you live a two-hour drive away. So after a (too-short) night at the convenient and comfy Best Western Plus-Bloomington, we hopped aboard the shuttle bus at 3:30am and headed to the familiar Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. When we got to our gate, we were joined by several other members of our 20-person traveling party: Denise and John Petricka from Eau Claire, Wis., Laurie and Charlie Larson from Grand Rapids, Minn., Sara and Chad Butruff from Apple Valley, Minn., and Kim and Glenn Gorres from New Richmond, Wis. The rest of our group would be taking different flights: Bonita and Mark Haley from Grand Forks, N.D., Margo and Tim Kennedy from Charleston, S.C., and Dale Rauwerdink and his friend Christie from Sheboygan, Wis. 
     We would be flying to Atlanta and then on to Belize City, the largest city of the Central American nation. Formerly known as British Honduras, Belize has been independent since 1981, following a nearly half-millenium period of colonial rule, first by the Spanish and then the British. Before the Europeans arrived, Belize was home to the Mayans, who also spread into what is now Mexico and Guatemala, the two nations that border on Belize in the north and west, and much of the rest of Central America. Mayan culture is still very present in Belize, in their native cuisine and art, and we were looking forward to getting a taste of both. 
     Belize is small, less than 9,000 square miles in area, a bit larger than New Jersey but with a population less than 1/20th of our Garden State. But Belizeans are trying to do something about that; their rate of population growth (2.05% per annum) is the highest in the Western Hemisphere, according to the UN. (Ours is 0.71%.) It's a diverse society, with just over half claiming Mestizo heritage, which is a mixture of Spanish and indigenous. Just over 11% are Mayans. Included in the overall population are about 3,000 American expatriates, who come for the low cost of living and general tropical ambience. (Over 900,000 American retirees are now living south of the US-Mexican border.) The major language in Belize is English, and one US dollar will get you two Belizean dollars. Most businesses will gladly take American cash, although travelers are advised to check price stickers carefully and inquire if they're listed in Belizean dollars (usually) or US. 
    We flew from Atlanta into Philip S.W. Goldson International Airport in Ladyville, just outside Belize City, the nation's largest with just over 52,000 inhabitants. It was the capital of the colony under the British, but after independence the seat of government was moved inland to Belmopan, the smallest national capital on the mainland of the Americas (16,451). Like our arrival in the Turks and Caicos Islands a few weeks earlier, we deplaned by staircase down onto the tarmac, and the heat hit us like a blast furnace. 

Here's Sue, waiting patiently for the rest of our group to assemble for our ride to Sleeping Giant. When you're
suddenly exposed to 90-degree heat and high humidity, you have to really work at patience. 

    The leader of our group was Cindy Tyo, who owns Travel Leaders agencies in Fargo, N.D., and Moorhead and Detroit Lakes, Minn. This past June, Cindy was bestowed with Travel Leaders' highest honor, the Golden Legacy Award, so we knew we were in good hands. She'd brought along her right-hand woman, Debbie Bailey. They had made all the arrangements for our stay in Belize, beginning with our transportation from the airport to our first lodging location. We would be staying our first three nights at Sleeping Giant Rain Forest Lodge, in the interior of the country. We would be along the Sibun River, on the edge of St. Herman's Blue Hole National Park, and it would be a visit we wouldn't soon forget. 
    All members of our group arrived on schedule and with luggage intact, so it wasn't long before we were aboard small buses (thankfully, all air-conditioned) for the 90-minute ride to Sleeping Giant. We would go southeast from Belize City, which is on the Caribbean coast, swing south around Belmopan, and crawl up into the Maya Mountains. The highest point in Belize, with the intriguing name of Doyle's Delight (3,688 feet), is about 60 miles south and west of Sleeping Giant. (The mountain got its name from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's novel, The Lost World.) 
    Only a few years old, Sleeping Giant is beautifully landscaped and designed to blend in with the jungle. Whoever their architect was did a terrific job. 

The view from the open-air second-story restaurant at Sleeping Giant, looking west. The mountain ridge you see in
the background is what gives the place its name: the "giant's" forehead is at the right, and as you trace
it to the left, you see his nose, lips, down into the throat, then up with the rise of his chest.

Our "mountain view" lodge, five rooms (two on each level, plus a penthouse).
Laurie and Charlie had the first-level room you see straight ahead, with ours just to
the left (obscured by the tree). Kim and Glenn were in the penthouse. (Laurie Larson)

Every room had its own hammock with a beautiful view of the Sibun valley. (Laurie Larson)

Traveling makes you hungry, and so most of us had lunch upon our arrival. 

    The heat was pretty oppressive, at least as far as us northern Wisconsinites were concerned, and combined with the humidity it made things more than a little uncom-
fortable. It would take some getting used to, but for now, we unpacked in our room and quickly donned our bathing suits for our first trip to the pool. Each room had its own small plunge pool, which we would sample later. For now, the inviting water of the big pool was a great refresher for a bunch of weary Americans. 

With the Sleeping Giant in the distance, the resort's pool
was beautifully-placed, like everything else. And once
we got here, the pool wasn't this quiet. (Laurie Larson)

     Later in the evening we gathered for our first dinner of the trip, and started getting to know each other better. The women had generally known each other for years, but for us guys, most of us were fairly new to each other's acquaintance. We were all in the same age bracket and pretty soon were telling each other about our kids and grandkids, talking football (the group was about equally divided between Packers and Vikings fans) and speculating about what we'd do tomorrow. As for me and Sue, we'd already decided that. We were going to start our exploration of the resort with a climb to its highest point. 

    Soon we retired to our respective rooms. At Sleeping Giant, none of the guest rooms--many of them separate cottages--have TV or internet WiFi. (Hardcore internet users could avail themselves of WiFi in the open-air reception center near the pool, or at the bar/restaurant.) It was quiet, that's for sure. We're used to that up here in northwest Wisconsin, but for many of our city-dwellers and suburbanites, it was a welcome change indeed. We hit the hay, tired after a long day of travel but glad to be here. The next day, we'd start really getting to know Belize.



Sunday, October 20 -- Central Belize

    The day dawned hot and humid. Like every tropical location, Belize has a rainy season and a dry season. The worst of the rainy season, they told us, ends in August. Humidity generally tops 85% during the monsoons, and goes down slightly during their drier winter. Our phones told us the temperature was up into the low 90s by mid-day, and I'd have to guess the humidity was at least 80%, both marks considerably higher than what we were used to. 
    Sue and I decided to climb up to the resort's mountaintop observation gazebo before going to breakfast, so we were up and dressed by 6:30 and hit the trail. It was only a short walk along the dirt road running through the resort property till we got to the trail entrance. Once we got onto the trail, it was immediately apparent that this was indeed jungle. Serious jungle. The trail was clearly marked, but it was not easy going. When we got to the top and ascended the three-story wooden gazebo tower, it was worth it. 

The Muscovy duck, quite common in Belize, was much in
evidence on the grounds.

Belize is home to over 4000 species of flowering plants and 700
species of trees, more than the continental U.S. and Canada combined.
This is the fruit of the cohune nut palm tree,very common in Belize.
The Mayans would use the tree for many purposes, including
the leaves for thatching and the nuts for oil.

Sue gets up close and personal with a ceiba tree, which was sacred
to the Mayans. This type of  tree can grow to 200 feet.

It became quickly apparent that summoning one's inner
Indiana Jones is necessary to get through the Belizean jungle. 

From the top floor of the observation tower, looking south, with orange groves in the distance and then the mountains. 

To the west, the Sibun flows from the mountains, where the Sleeping Giant lies. 

To the north, more forest, with groves on the valley floor. 

It was already hot and still early morning, but two intrepid Wisconsinites were happy to be there. 

    We made the trek back down from the tower and then up the 75 stairs to our building, took a much-welcomed shower and got ready for our day. Nothing else was on the schedule except for breakfast and then relaxation. Many members of the group, hearing our story about the gazebo climb, declared they would make the trek the next day. We already had something more strenuous planned. It would be my birthday, and my lovely bride's gift was an adventure trek that would turn out to be the highlight of the trip. 
    In the meantime, we would relax around the pool, enjoying the company of our traveling companions and getting to know each other better. We enjoyed a fine dinner and eventually retired, Sue and I before anybody else (a common occurrence as the week progressed). The next day we'd be up early to meet our guides at 8am for the start of our excursion. 

In the foreground, Christie from Sheboygan, Wis., lathers on the sunscreen. In the background, Sue (in the black hat) chats with Charlie and Laurie from Grand Rapids. Bonita Haley from Grand Forks, N.D., is behind Laurie.

Since I burn even if I'm dipped in a vat of powerful sunscreen, I tried to keep to the shade as much as possible. Here, my feet get into the picture as the rest of the crew enjoys the pool. 

The open-air restaurant was one of Sleeping Giant's many attractions. 

On our last night, a party in Kim and Glenn's
mountainside penthouse attracted this native visitor.
He was a big guy, about the size of my hand from
tip of the middle finger to the wrist. 

Monday, October 21 -- In the steps of the Mayans

     We were up early, had breakfast and were in the lobby at 8am to meet Rose, one of our guides. We would actually be combining two tours: a climb up to and inside a Mayan cavern complex, and then a short ride to another mountain, where we'd climb to the top and then rappel down to the base. Our invitations to other members of the group to join us resulted in only one taker: Sara, from Apple River, Minn. She'd actually done the cavern tour on a previous visit, but it had happened right after a heavy rain and she was hoping for a better experience this time.
     It was a few miles from the lodge to the first trail, and we got there aboard a two-horse cart, meandering through orange groves. Belize's tropical climate is a big help for agriculture, but working against it are the relative lack of irrigation and modern equipment for planting and harvesting crops. Sugar is the number one agricultural export, followed by fruit, including oranges. Agriculture employs one-third of the country's workforce and accounts for 22% of Belize's GDP. 

As we set out, our two-horse cart was behind a more modern vehicle. It wouldn't take long for us to
lose not only the vehicle, but the actual road, as we made our way through the groves into the mountains. 

Along the trail, Belize's great variety of flora and fauna was
very apparent. This is one of 700 butterfly species.

Rose frequently stopped the trek, not just for rest, but to point out plant species that were used
by the Mayans for medicine and other purposes. 

Arriving at the cavern, we had to clamber down steps carved in the rock and then go hand-over-hand, up
into the entrance to the cavern, from which Sue took this shot, looking back toward where we'd entered the grotto.

Sara and Sue were all smiles as we climbed up to the cavern entrance. Little did we know what was to come. 

Rose pauses to give us a little talk about how the Mayans used these caverns. The Mayans considered them to be
home to various spirits, and to appease them, sacrifices had to be made. Sometimes it was pottery and other
valuables, sometimes animals, sometimes people. As she talked, the sound of her voice alerted the bats,
who began soaring around our heads, sometimes quite close. 

Inside, the display of stalactites and stalagmites was impressive,
and never-ending. 

The difference between the two? Stalactites (with the letter c in the
middle of the word) come from the ceiling, while stalagmites
(letter g) come up from the ground. They are formed over thousands
of years by the constant drip-drip of mineral-rich water. These
caverns also contain helictites, which grow sideways. Nobody
is really sure how that happens. 

One of the many indoor pools. They're actually home to living creatures, from bacteria up to small crabs. 

Sue observing another pool. The only light was provided by the battery-powered headlamps on our helmets.  And the
going was very tough, frequently requiring hand-over-hand climbs to go up and slides to go down. 

Although many Belizean caverns have been looted by robbers looking for rare artifacts, this one has largely been
spared. This is one of the human skeletal remains we came across. 

     The cave exploration was very eerie. At one point, Rose brought us to a location where we could all sit and turn off our lamps. Within a split-second, the darkness was absolute, and so was the quiet. It was disorienting, to say the least, and we didn't want to think about what would happen if the lights on our helmets all failed. 
     Finally, after about an hour, we emerged and made our way back through the grotto and down the mountainside to our waiting horse cart. It was around 11am, and we were promised lunch as part of this tour. First, though, came the rappelling. For this, we rode another 15 minutes or so through more orange groves to another mountain. To get to the trail up the mountainside we had to traverse what was called the "hammock bridge."

With the cliff we would rappel down in the distance, we
walked across the hammock bridge. Sue and I had
done a similar bridge in Peru, so we were prepared for the
shaky crossing. Rose assured us the bridge would
hold up just fine, and it did. 

After a tough climb up the mountainside, with some switchbacks that were pretty precarious, we made it to the top.
Sue and Sara were happy to be there, until they actually started contemplating the way down. I volunteered
to go first.

     Like everybody else, I'd seen rappelling in the movies, and occasionally in documentaries about mountaineering and military training. It looks hard, but exciting. Now having done it, I can testify that those words are perfectly adequate in describing the experience. Rose was very thorough in making sure we understood how it would work, and then made sure we were properly suited up with harnesses and helmets. She asked who wanted to go first. The women were notably silent, so down I went. 
    I discovered immediately that the way it's done in the movies--pushing off the mountainside with both feet, propelling yourself outward and downward--is not nearly as easy as they make it look on the screen. (Big surprise.) I swung over to one side and raked my left arm against the rock, but only suffered a few superficial scratches. Then I got my bearings, so to speak, and the rest of the way was fine. Another discovery is that just as you don't want to look down when you're at the top, waiting to descend, you don't want to spend a lot of time just hanging there, looking around. You have to make steady progress. Within a few minutes I was at the bottom, where Rose's assistant was waiting to unhook my lines and signal up to the top that the next one could start her descent. This would be Sue.

As the lightest of the three of us, Sue had to work her ropes
more than usual. But thanks to the upper body strength she
has developed through martial arts training and uncounted
trips to the gym, she had no trouble. 

    Sara was last, and also made it down without incident. During the climb up the mountain the fatigue of the trek, combined with the ever-oppressive heat and humidity, was starting to take a toll. But once we were down, we were all exhilarated with our accomplishment. Another bucket-list box had been checked. Now it was off to lunch, so we boarded our cart for another location, this one along the stream that fed into the Sibun. Unfortunately, the stream was too shallow for safe wading; it would've been great to at least take off our shoes and socks to cool our feet. But the lunch was ready and very inviting.

The stream was tempting, but too shallow and rocky
for easy wading, so we passed. 

Our lunch, prepared by the resort, really hit the spot. Major points for presentation, too.

     After our final horse-cart ride of the day back to the lodge, we walked over to the pool, where the rest of the gang was well into another day of lounging, with plenty of sunscreen and adult beverages to be had. When they saw this dirty, sweat-soaked trio approaching, hearty greetings and cries of amazement erupted from poolside. We stayed a few minutes to chat, then repaired to our rooms to clean up. Sara and her husband Chad had a cottage on the floor of the valley, near the river, but Sue and I had to climb up those 75 stairs to ours. Nevertheless, we made it, and after cleaning up we decided to spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing up there, enjoying the air conditioning and then the open-air patio with its hammock and bed. 

The view from the hammock, as I enjoyed a book on my Kindle and all the water I could drink. 

Sue chose to stretch out on the bed with her tablet, expressing the satisfaction of a day well spent.

    The day was my 63rd birthday, and a good one it had been (other than realizing that I was now just two years away from Medicare). We joined our group for dinner and a few of them said they were envious of our experience, but nobody wanted to replicate it. They got a break due to the schedule: the next morning, we would be checking out of Sleeping Giant and heading to the Caribbean coast for the second stop of our stay in Belize. All of us were looking forward to getting some relief from the humidity that was promised by being on the coast, but Sue and I especially would miss the beauty and the challenge of Sleeping Giant. 




Tuesday, October 22 -- Sleeping Giant to Villa Verano

    We checked out of Sleeping Giant in mid-morning, after one final breakfast in the lodge's beautiful open-air, second-story restaurant. Although somewhat sad to be leaving this exotic place, we were all anticipating the cool Caribbean breeze that awaited us at our next stop. For four nights, we would be the sole occupants of Villa Verano, on the coast just south of the village of Hopkins.
     The villa was built some years ago and now is available for guest rental. We had the place booked for four nights, just down the road from the Lodge at Jaguar Reef, to which Sue had sent several clients in recent years. Before checking in at our villa, the Jaguar Reef folks gave us a tour of their property, which is almost done with a nice renovation. Although eager to get to our lodgings, we were enjoying the cooling sea breeze, and so the wait was more than tolerable. 
     Finally, we got to the villa, and it was well worth the wait. 

As we strolled Jaguar Reef's beach, Denise and Laurie
decided to do a little swinging. (Laurie Larson)

The entrance to the villa was very inviting to us after a day of overland travel
from the jungle to the coast. (Kim Gorres)

Outside, facing the Caribbean, the pool awaited us, and it didn't take long for it to get busy. 

The villa's second-floor library was popular on Thursday night, when the group's Vikings fans
gathered to cheer on their team. 

The second-floor dining area, looking toward the kitchen. A larger table, behind the photographer, seated a dozen. 

Looking down at the pool from the second floor. 

The second-floor dining area, with the main table to the left and the lounge area in the middle, equipped with a
bar that was fully stocked and regularly replenished by the group. 

On the top floor, a well-equipped fitness center, which Sue and I attended regularly. (Kim Gorres)

The lodge at night, from the beach. (Sara Butruff)

   Another day in Belize soon came to an end. The bad news for the next day, our first full day at the villa, was that rain was in the forecast. The good news was, nobody really seemed to care. 



Wednesday, October 23 -- Villa Verano and Hopkins

    One of the things I like to do when visiting a foreign country is get to know the locals. So, the next day when rain poured down, it didn't look like a proposed trip to nearby Hopkins (pop. about 1500) was in the cards. A few intrepid members of the group braved the intermittent heavy showers anyway, going down the road to rent a couple golf carts and go exploring. Around noon, it seemed to be letting up, so a few of the rest of us, me and Sue included, availed ourselves of a pair of carts and headed into town. 
    Our first stop was at a roadside cafe known, for some reason, as Thong's. 

With the rain letting up, the gang opted for lunch at a Hopkins open-air cafe. 

When the girls proposed getting a photo taken in their thongs, the guys wondered exactly what they were
talking about. Then we found out. L-R: Cindy, Denise, Sue, Bonnie and Kim. (Kim Gorres)

    Back at the villa, we had time for a little relaxation around the pool, then dressed for dinner. We would be going a couple doors down to a unique beachfront place known as Love on the Rocks. It turned out to be a great meal, and the rather prodigious quantities of wine consumed helped to set up the nightcap of the evening back at the villa. 

One of the two tables our group occupied at the dinner. To say a fine time was had by all would be an understatement.
But that was nothing compared to what was awaiting us back at the villa.

The lobster served at the restaurant had
a very unique presentation. 

After dinner, it was time for game night! The previous evening we'd played "Cards Against Humanity." I was asked to come
up with something for Wednesday night, so I suggested "The Not-So-Newlywed Game." The pressure was on, so I spent
a good part of the afternoon coming up with questions. Most of the couples participated. Above, L-R: Chad and Sara, Bonita
and Mark, with Cindy, our moderator, behind them. (Kim Gorres)

Laurie helped out as Cindy's assistant. Here I am with Sue, talking about one of the questions,
which ranged from the rather innocent ("What is your wife's shoe size?") to the rather
bold ("Who does your husband think he resembles in bed: Brad Pitt, smooth and sexy;
Arnold Schwarzenegger, powerful and dominant; or Robin Williams, funny, cuddly and a little furry?")
Denise and John are dreading their turn, which is next. (Kim Gorres)

    The game provided the perfect cap to our first full day on the coast. The next day, most of the group would be heading out onto the water.



Thursday, October 24 -- 

    Thursday was a day scheduled for a snorkeling expedition to one of the many islands, or "cayes," off the coast. The skies were clear but winds were fairly high, creating some rather challenging wave action, so a few of us, yours truly included, opted to stay on shore. Most of the group, including Sue, voted to brave the surf. It turned out to be a fine day for all concerned. 

Braving the surf, the snorkelers sallied forth. (All photos in this sequence by Kim Gorres.)

The caye turned out to be a rather primitive but welcome place to snorkel and relax. 

Pelicans were doing their thing in the waters near the caye. Sue got this
shot just as one was taking off. 

    Back on the mainland, I decided to take one of the villa's bicycles into town. I was shown to a rack of bikes that looked like they'd been waiting there since about 1950. Undeterred, I chose the biggest one available and set off on the mile and a half ride into town, the first part over a red dirt road, and then onto pavement. I wanted to get a smoothie for lunch at Thong's, and see who might be hanging around today. 

That's my borrowed bike leaning against the tree. Just across the street and to the right is what passed for a
supermarket. Shortly after taking this shot--and enjoying a really good smoothie--I struck up a conversation
with two other diners. The gent was about 65, an American who'd lived here as an expat since 1981, except for
a brief period when he'd returned to Miami. ("Hated it, had to come back.") His luncheon companion was
a woman who hailed from Russia, by way of Australia. And the waitress who served us was a woman from Germany.
It was like a Hemingway novel coming to life.

On the way back to the villa, I stopped at a large gift shop and made a friend (and recruited a new Badger fan besides). 

    Around 3pm, the snorkelers came filtering back. They'd had a fine time, and only a couple were touched by seasickness. Our evening meal was on our own. The villa provided us with chefs for breakfast every day (and pack lunches for the snorkeling group today; the landlubbers who stayed behind had the same lunch, served indoors) and dinner on our first and last nights. For tonight's dinner, some of us chose a charming little Italian restaurant a short walk down the road toward Hopkins. La Trattoria was its name, and our host was an authentic Italian, who had emigrated here from Rome not too long before to start a restaurant. Joining me and Sue were Laurie and Charlie along with Bonita and Mark. You can see photos on the restaurant's TripAdvisor page: La Trattoria Hopkins. I gave the restaurant a 5-star review, based on its atmosphere, extensive wine list, stellar service and the absolutely terrific pasta Bolognese I dined on. 
     It had been a pretty full day for everyone, and we had one more day to go. Nothing special was planned for Friday. The weather promised to be great, and the pool was already calling us. 



Friday, October 25 -- Poolside at the villa

    This morning, Sue and I started the day with a workout in the fitness center. Our breakfast was once again fantastic, and we settled in for the day. Later on, we would get a couple bikes for a visit to Hopkins, but most of the day was spent poolside. A few of us went into the ocean, some visited the nearby end-of-the-pier bar; a handful of the most intrepid (or inebriated) in the group launched themselves into the Caribbean from the bar's second story. I chose a lounge chair poolside, a good book and an occasional dip into the pool itself to keep from overheating. But with the breeze off the ocean, it was very pleasant. 

Poolside at a resort on the Caribbean coast of Belize? Well, we won't say what it cost.
Poolside anywhere with my lovely bride? Priceless. (Laurie Larson)

Poolside on Friday was the place to be. 

Some of the ladies decided it was time for cards. (Sara Butruff)

The toasts were plentiful at poolside. (Sara Butruff)

Unlike some resorts in the Caribbean, which own their beachfront and restrict access, Villa Verano and its neighbors front
on public beach. Occasionally the locals would show up to hawk their wares, like these two ladies, but
for the most part we were left alone. 

Charlie finally found a bicycle that was older than any of us. (Laurie Larson)

One of the ladies relaxes on the beach. In the background is the two-story bar at the
end of Jaguar Reef's pier; the diving platform proved irresistible for some of us. (Kim Gorres)

On the roof, an extra dining area beckoned as sunset approached. (Kim Gorres)

The rooftop hot tub proved to be popular, and not just for photos. (Kim Gorres)

    We had one final dinner with the group, served by our talented Belizean chefs. The next day we would be returning home, and we were all sort of sad to see the trip end. By now, those of us who had not known each other well at the start were fast friends. It was a very mellow evening indeed, and it had to include a group photo.

The ladies, L-R: Debbie, Kim, Annette, Sue, Bonita, Margo, Sara, Laurie, Denise, Cindy.
The gents, L-R: Glenn, Jim, yours truly, Mark, Dale, Tim, Chad, Charlie and John. (Denise Petricka)

Saturday, October 26 -- To the airport and home

    Our trip home would be like the rest of the trip: memorable. It started right after breakfast, as we checked out of Villa Verano and boarded a pair of vans for the first leg of our journey. It was about 90 minutes by road to Belize City and the airport, we were told, but we would be cutting that time considerably by going to nearby Dangriga and flying from there. 
     The airport in the city of Dangriga (pop. 9593) was rather small, to be kind. The Wisconsin town of Rice Lake, where Sue works, is similar-sized, but its airport is rather more advanced than this one. Still, the staff at the Tropic Airlines "terminal" was helpful and we waited for our two separate planes to come in.

The baggage handlers had their hands full with our stuff, but they were used to it.

The first plane that came in was one we thought we'd be on, but after several of our group boarded, they had to
get off--wrong plane! But the ones that wound up taking us to Belize City were very similar.

Once we boarded, Sue got up front next to John, while I stayed in the back row to get some legroom. 

The Belizean countryside rolled underneath us rather quickly once we got airborne.

When we landed at Goldson International, the Marines were already there. Our Marines frequently train in Belize,
often alongside British troops. Belize's former colonial rulers were asked to keep a military presence in country
due to nervousness over neighboring Guatemala's demand for some 60% of Belize's territory, a claim that
goes back to a mid-19th century treaty. The dispute has gone to an international court. Nevertheless, the Belizean
government, which maintains a "Defence Force" of about 1500 men, figures it's a good idea to allow a couple of
its powerful friends to hang around. 

At the airport, the group headed for Jet's Bar, where the proprietor
showed some photos to Laurie. 

    It was at Goldson that the group's members started to go their separate ways. Most of us would be flying into the States to Atlanta, but some went to Houston. I had about $30 in Belizean cash left, so I bought a couple things at a gift shop, figuring that merchants back in Wisconsin wouldn't be crazy about taking Belize dollars. 
    Within a few hours, we were back in the States. Several of us caught a connecting flight to Minneapolis, while others went their separate ways. It was around 9:30pm local time when we landed in Minnesota, and about one in the morning on Sunday when we entered our driveway a few miles south of Birchwood. It would be a short night; we had to pick up our pets at their respective kennels at 8am and then head to church, where we'd be singing in the choir for the 9am service. Needless to say, we were a little weary. Even so, we stayed up to watch the Packers battle the Chiefs that night. Well, I did; Sue went to bed at halftime, while I stayed up to the end, a successful one if you were a Packer fan.
     During much of our time in Belize, especially while we were in the jungle, the heat and humidity had occasionally made me long for the cool autumn weather of Wisconsin. What we found out quickly upon our return was that our home state was entering a very cold period, with overnight temps soon dipping down into the single digits. The heat of Belize suddenly didn't seem so bad. 
     This was my first trip to Central America, a region that until a decade or so ago was in the grip of political violence and revolution. Things have calmed down considerably since then, thankfully, to the point where thousands of Americans not only visit the region but retire there, as noted. Not only do Belize and its neighbors provide resort locations that are sometimes outstanding, like the ones we visited, but their native cultures are fascinating to explore. I was able to add to our household art by bringing home a knife with a scabbard featuring Mayan leather work, a very pretty piece (for a very reasonable price). 
    There's a lot more of Central America to explore, though, and so I'm looking forward to going back. On our last day at Villa Verano, many of the group suggested that we should get together again next year. Maybe it will be Belize or one of its neighbors, or maybe a different region entirely. But based on our experience here, it will be fun, no matter where we go.