April 14 - 16 - Back to Oaxaca

It’s time to return to Oaxaca. I had considered taking a plane, but it would have cost over $600 American, and would have taken twenty-two hours. I didn’t have a clue how long the bus trip would take because the tickets would have to be purchased separately.

Brenda Lea, my almost personal cab driver since business was so slow, was late. As I sat on the steps of my hotel waiting, several cabs stopped and asked if I needed a taxi, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. To say the cab business in Belize City is competitive would be an understatement.

I thought one of the taxis that stopped told me Brenda Lea couldn’t make it and had sent him. I misunderstood, he said, “I’m here now,” which to him meant exactly that, to me, once I figured out what was going on, meant he was stealing her fare.

The clue to what he was up to came after I was in the cab and he had driven a hundred yards or so, when he asked me where I was going.

“Stop the cab,” I said

“Where are you going?” he asked again.

“I want out, stop the cab.” He slowed to a crawl, but didn’t stop. “I’m getting angry, stop the cab!”

He stopped. As I was pulling my bag out of the back seat, thank goodness it wasn’t in the trunk, he began moving again. “Let me get my bag out of the cab.”

As he drove off he used words too vulgar for me to write in this blog meant for general reading.

By now it was about 10:40, and my bus was leaving at 11 am. Brenda Lea should have been at the hotel at 10:30. I called her cell. “I’m coming, I’m coming she said in a frantic tone and hung up. She was caught in traffic.

The bus from Belize City to Chetumal, which is a point of entry into Mexico from Belize, took about four hours. I had to wait until mid-night to catch the bus from Chetumal to San Cristobal. Since I had so much time to kill I took a cab to Chetumal’s Mayan Museum.

The bus from Chetumal to San Cristobal broke down, and bus terminal staff gave differing times when a bus would come that could take me, and two other stranded passengers to San Cristobal. Eventually I caught on, no one knew when a bus would come. At 3 am a bus going to San Cristobal arrived, but for some reason the other two stranded passengers and four Europeans who were trying to get on the bus got into an argument with a bus terminal employee. Since I had been told I could get on the bus I stored my duffle bag in the under compartment and began to board. My fellow stranded passengers protest. I couldn’t board, they said. I had to stand in line. I stood, listened, waited and knew full well I would be boarding the bus. The bus driver came, we all boarded the bus, and there was plenty of room for everyone. Sometime around 3 pm we arrived in San Cristobal. This time I had only a two hour wait. The bus arrived on time. I went to sleep, didn’t wake up very often and was very surprised when I woke up as the bus was turning into the Oaxaca bus terminal. It was 6 am April 16.

April 10 -From St. Ignazio to Belize City

I took a public bus from St. Ignazio to Belize City. It stopped an accountable number of times along the way, and sometimes it was so crowded it was standing room only. It was hot, humid and took about three hours. I didn’t have a clue where I was going to stay once I arrived in Belize City.

When I got off the bus and made my way outside to the taxi stand there were too many cab drivers searching for fares. A woman named Brenda Lea with twenty years of driving experience took my duffle back. As we stood beside her old beater of a taxi I explained I didn’t know where I was going but that I wanted a hotel beside the ocean, with air conditioning and I didn’t want to pay more than about ninety dollars a night.

The first places she took me to cost too much. I settled on the Chateau Caribbean. The hotel is sixty years old, needs painting and new flooring but it had a bath tub, which is a rarity in Latin America, air conditioning and overlooks the Caribbean Sea.

I settled in, found the boat taxi service, and bought a ticket to Caye Caulker for the next day.

(The photo is of my hotel. It has an interesting 60 year history, and has been many things, including a hostpital.)

April - Arrived in Belize

At 7 a.m. I was picked-up at my hotel. The car that picked me up was falling apart and I wondered if it could make it to the border. I thought perhaps this car and driver were just driving me to meet up with a mini-bus, but I didn’t ask. I enjoyed the uncertainty of the journey.

I was delivered to a sort of bus terminal where one of the mini-buses, which was almost the size of a regular bus, had Melchor painted haphazardly on the front My bag is carried to this not quite as run down vehicle and I hop on.

We were quite full, but I suppose not full enough, the bus driver kept shouting Mel ----e---chee, Mel--e--chee. After a while we moved on.

We didn’t go very far, I then found myself sitting in this rattle trap of a vehicle stopped in middle of a very busy market where the driver had the help of another man. They walked around this market while cars, buses and people hustled and bustled in a most chaotic fashion. Mel--e--chece, Mel--e--chece the men shouted.

They picked-up a few more passengers for the journey. We’re all stuffed into the collective and off we went. We stopped and started many times along the way to the border. People got on. People got off. Everyone except me were Latino.

At the border the bus driver told me I owe him money. I showed him my receipt because I’d already paid for my trip He tells me he is with another company.

I’ve been put on the wrong bus Now I have to pay twice for my trip to the border.

Two of my companions felt I was ripped off by the agency I bought my ticket from. For me it was not worth the effort to try to get a refund, in fact I suspect impossible unless I returned to Flores.

After the difficulty over my double payment my compañeros felt the need to look after me, and so the explained how I could reach the border to cross into Belize. Leaving Guatemala and entering Belize took a while because there were line-ups at both counters.

When I entered Belize I took a taxi to Midas Resort, and arrived to discover I was booked in for three nights and had no idea why I had planned to stay for so long. I was at the point in my trip where nothing was unplanned. I scout around for a guide. In Belize nothing can be visited without a guide. Ecotourism and protection of their patronage and jungle terrain is big in Belize.

John is a full blooded Mayan who has been guiding for sixteen years and was busy setting up his office, gift shop and carving workshop. He’s a wood carver and licensed guide

I wanted to visit the Mountain Pine Ridge forest reserve, but he doesn’t have anyone else booked for the trip and wasn’t profitable to take one person, unless I paid a whole lot extra. We agree to go to the Barton Lake Cave tomorrow.