I (very) briefly got (very) frustrated with backpacking recently. (Yes, on about Day Five.)(Of Six weeks.) With the no electricity and the darkness and the damp and the sand and the thatched huts leaking in thunderstorms and beds that aren't just damp but sodden and the lack of organised luggage compartments and the never being able to find things in my pack. And then to top it all off a mosquito got under my net. I just...... well suddenly a couple of lazy weeks on the French Riveria somehow seemed like a nicer holiday option. Somehow, without full consent or even knowledge, I had become a bit of a princess. For the record: I am not okay with this.
I got over the princess-ness. I am grimy and perpetually covered in at least 2 layers of insect repellent, but I am never bored. I have swum in the Caribbean more times than I care to count, debated tax reform over mojitos with new-found Nordic friends, survived an entire breakfast service without using English, re-read most of To Kill a Mockingbird, done a lot of lying in the sun and played a lot of volleyball, and used 'estupendamente' once in its correct adverb form. I have sat on the beach and listened to Fleet Foxes while watching a thunderstorm gently march across the Caribbean towards us for about an hour before it hit shore. I thought the skies just opened here, but it's a long and beautiful process watching a storm move. I may have been rained on in bed during the night, but I've also seen a newly-hatched baby turtle, smaller than the size of my palm, scamper across the beach and into the surf to begin her life with her first ever swim. Pretty. Damn. Awesome.
I got over the princess-ness. I am grimy and perpetually covered in at least 2 layers of insect repellent, but I am never bored. I have swum in the Caribbean more times than I care to count, debated tax reform over mojitos with new-found Nordic friends, survived an entire breakfast service without using English, re-read most of To Kill a Mockingbird, done a lot of lying in the sun and played a lot of volleyball, and used 'estupendamente' once in its correct adverb form. I have sat on the beach and listened to Fleet Foxes while watching a thunderstorm gently march across the Caribbean towards us for about an hour before it hit shore. I thought the skies just opened here, but it's a long and beautiful process watching a storm move. I may have been rained on in bed during the night, but I've also seen a newly-hatched baby turtle, smaller than the size of my palm, scamper across the beach and into the surf to begin her life with her first ever swim. Pretty. Damn. Awesome.
I have been tempted, in the last 24 hours, to suspect I've landed in paradise. Turns out I am in Belize, which may well be the next best thing. I am on a small strip of sand in the middle of the Caribbean where life is perpetually laid back. The rum actually tastes as though it was made from sugarcane, the lobster is fresh from the sea, and Bob Marley really is constantly playing. Even better, there is functioning roofs and electricity. It is just so awesome.
I spent most of today in the sea, on the world's second largest coral reef. It is manatee mating season, and we dived to hang out out within 10 feet of a lazy, giant manatee, who occasionally surfaced for air, showed a little curiosity in us, then kept on going about her business. I swam with massive fully-grown turtles. And to top it all off I managed to swim amongst a large shiver of sharks. (Secretly, I have been waiting my whole life to accurately use that collective noun. This is just one more treat that Belize has given me.) In short, nautical activities ahoy. And..... I am about to literally sail into the sunset. Life is not bad.
It all seems a little cliche for me to blast Marley here, besides, everyone else is doing it for me. Instead I have been listening to Bedouin Soundclash. It has enough of that perfect calypso vibe that is so appropriate for this place. It's laid back and it sounds like happytimes. Which this most definitely is.
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