Monthly Archives: April 2011

Please, Don’t Be A Pretentious Traveler

28 Thursday Apr 2011

Posted by in Guatemala, Opinion Articles

≈ 101 Comments

Tags

Undoubtedly one of the greatest joys of travel is meeting like-minded people along the way.  I would even venture to say that whether one’s recollections of a particular place fills you with warm fuzzies or a sense of indifference has more to do with who you spent time with while there than with the location’s inherent merits.

For instance, I had an incredible experience trekking through Patagonia because our five-person team gelled so cohesively.  I can no longer separate my memories of that trek from the people who I shared it with. Likewise, sad to be parted from my new little group, I was in a bad mood for the following week that I spent in Buenos Aires on my own.

 

My awesome trekking team in Torres Del Paine, Chile

That being said, sometimes the characteristically negative interactions one has with other travelers can be equally memorable.  The loud, disrespectful guy who turns on the lights in a dorm room after coming home from the club at 3am.  The backpacker who complains about spending the equivalent of 30 cents more than the locals, on a purchase at the market.  Or, the pretentious traveler who exudes superiority whenever she opens her mouth.

I met the last example during my stay in Lanquin, Guatemala.  There was an American girl there in her mid to late twenties, admittedly very attractive, who always wore cowboy boots paired with a mini-skirt and rapidly batting eyelashes when she spoke.  She had a rather hairy, pony-tailed English guy traveling with her on a motorcycle, and they struck me as a rather mismatched couple.

George, the English guy (I have somehow blocked her name from memory), explained how they had met up in Nicaragua and how he had invited her to join him traveling the rest of Central America with him on his motorcycle.  He was very down-to-earth as he explained that they were enjoying their slow travel style, and he was obviously completely enamored, with an “I can’t believe she’s with me” look on his face as he talked about her.

I should mention that I was in a typical Mayan stone sauna at this moment, and that George and his travel companion had an audience of about eight others.  The conversation was proceeding as typically as you’d expect in a hostel full of strangers meeting for the first time: Where have you been traveling? How long are you traveling for?  Where are you from? Etc.

Meeting fellow travelers on the hike to San Pedro

I addressed the American girl with the typical latter question.  Despite her strong East Coast American accent, she nonchalantly replied “Oh, I’m a citizen of the world”, while running her fingers through her black wavy hair.

Stifling my desired response of “Is that what you tell immigration authorities when you cross the border?” I replied asking, “Ok. But what part of the States are you from originally?”

“Oh, I was born in Boston.  But I don’t consider myself American anymore.”

“Really?  Why’s that?”

“Well, I haven’t lived there in so long. I’m location independent.”

“I see. So, how long are you traveling for on this trip?”

“Oh. I’m traveling indefinitely.  For example, when I met George I’d just finished six months in the Darien.  I never know where I’m going next. That’s why I’m a citizen of the world”.

This girl had such an air of conceit in her voice that I felt like punching her in the face but instead I just swallowed and smiled.  And then came the punch line, when someone asked her how she liked traveling by motorcycle.

“Oh, it’s so much fun and unpredictable.  We just go wherever we feel like whenever we feel like it. The only difficulty is bringing my hula”.

“Your what?” I ask.

“My hula-hoop.  I hula everyday when I travel.”

No-one likes a know-it-all show off.  Even if you’ve visited over a hundred countries and have been on the road for the last ten years, it doesn’t make you better than anyone else.  It makes you privileged. Travel should enlighten, build confidence and a sense of tolerance and community.   So feel free to share your experiences, your wisdom and your stories with those less ventured,

but do so to encourage, not to impress.

Otherwise you’ll be shunned by others and some blogger will write a nasty post about you when they get home.

From that point on, whenever I would see this girl, I would avoid engaging in conversation.  The next day when I spotted her and George inside the Lanquin Caves, I really wanted to ask her where her hula-hoop was.

Advertisements

Actun Tunichil Muknal: THE Cave To Visit In Belize

14 Thursday Apr 2011

Posted by in Belize

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

, ,

Crawling through a tight squeeze in the cave

Belize is a great place exploring caves.   And I had not received enough punishment the day before when I swam instead of tubing through a set of caves the day before. I was ready for the next challenge: Actun Tunichil Muknal, dubbed The “ATM cave” about 45 minutes from San Ignacio.

My lovely tour guide actually ended up driving me to San Ignacio, so I thanked him by buying him dinner at a street side BBQ stand.  He then dropped me off at the cutest little colonial guesthouse called Hi-Et (which I thought sounded hilariously similar to Hyatt) where I rented a room for $20 BZD from a ninety year old man who instructed me to call him “Junior”.  It was the cutest little place with two corgis named Princess and Duke (mother and son) who sat next to me on the porch swing while I watched the sunset.  I felt right at home.

ATM cave was only discovered in 1989, but the archaeologist in question decided to keep it to himself until he’d had time to map the cave and assess the many Mayan artifacts contained within.

Speaking for myself, I thoroughly enjoy a caving adventure on its own merit.  I love venturing into the dark underbelly of the world, especially if its journey is through water, marveling at the formations and experiencing the genuine creepiness of it all. This particular cave had even more going for it than its flowing river, stalagmites and stalactites.

It was the location of many ancient Mayan ritual human sacrifices.  It contained many very well-preserved artifacts which included skeletons, parts of skeletons, and rather less exciting: ceramics.

I was excited.

After what was described as an hour-long hike into the deep jungle, and turned out to be a flat meander along a well-beaten path to the cave’s entrance, we arrived.

Stalactites

Annoyingly, there were several tour groups ahead of us.  Silly me: when I’d read that only two companies could take up to eight people per group, I had booked online thinking that I had better reserve my spot on the tour since I had only one day allotted to going. I didn’t realize that between the two companies , there were 18 guides allowed to take 8 people in EACH.

Ugh.

There were several groups crowded at the cave’s entrance making cheesy smiles and chanting “you won’t Belize it” for their photo, and it felt more like Sleeping Beauty’s castle at Disneyland than the jungle.  I could tell patience would be in order for the rest of the tour.

It got even more annoying when our guide explained that he would be pointing out potential hazards to us inside the cave and that as we passed them ourselves, we should repeat the warning to the person behind us so that we could all stay safe as a group.  This works in theory, however in practice, all it accomplishes is hearing “there’s a big rock to your left” shrieked 8 times when the last person in line is far behind the obstacle being warned about.

This is not to say that the entire experience was irritating.  Far from it.  I really enjoyed the cold short swims followed by the bodily contortions and squeezes that you had to make to get through the cave.  I wondered what the tour guides did to the fat tourists who couldn’t make it through the tight spots.  Did they refuse to sell them the tour?  Were they sent back to the entrance on their own?  Or made to wait in the cold water for two hours for the guide to return?

I was relieved that neither I nor anyone else on my tour was tubby enough to find out.

After an hour or so of horizontal exploration – we were told we had to climb up into the main cavern referred to as The Cathedral – where all of the artifacts lay.  It was not too difficult of a climb as long as you had shoes with grip and a fearless attitude.  Up, up, and up we climbed, sometimes using the guide as a human step-ladder, sometimes over a strategically placed metal alternative.

Inside "The Cathedral"

When we reached the main chamber, the guide launched into his long, serious, and how-many-times-must-I-hear-the-same-speech lecture about Mayan history.  Don’t guides ever stop to think that perhaps some of us had racked up a few Mayan sites and already learned the basics?  That maybe some of us would be more interested in the geological significance of the cave instead of the year Mayans first began construction on their elaborate pyramids?

However, I must say that the information presented concerning the human sacrifices was interesting.  For instance, I knew that sometimes babies of the upper classes had their skulls bound with a wooden board in the front to make it more angular, but I didn’t know that their teeth were also filed into sharp points.  It has been suggested that this was done to resemble the jaguar – an animal revered by the Maya.

The majority of remains in the cave, 14 persons in all, belonged to children as their sacrifice was considered more valuable to the gods.  It is believed that if a person belonging to the upper echelons of society were chosen for a sacrifice, it would be considered an honor for the victim and death would occur voluntarily.  Not so for the lesser in society who were brought to the cave to be sacrificed against their will.

Ceramic Artifacts

I couldn’t actually believe that tourists were allowed to walk so close to the artifacts and bones.  Even only being permitted to wear socks is not going to preserve these relics from further damage in the future.  There were even a number of skulls that we were told had been punctured by tourist’s dropping rock or their camera lenses on them.  As such, I highly doubt that tours will be allowed to continue here for much longer.

The Crystal Maiden

The final relic is a fully intact skeleton known as “The Crystal Maiden” whose bones have been calcified leaving them with a sparkling crystallized appearance.

By this point, I was ready to get out of the cave.  I was shivering, and starting to feel a little claustrophobic. At least I could count my blessings: I wasn’t brought here as a sacrifice to the gods.

Cave Tubing The Anita Way

07 Thursday Apr 2011

Posted by in Belize

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

,

Entering the Cave System

Belize is known for its abundant limestone caves; formations that are a continuation of the systems also found in Guatemala.  One of the methods for exploring these caves that Belize is marketing primarily to cruise ship passengers is floating through them in the safety of an inner tube.

Cave Tubing: it’s what all the cool people are doing!

Did I want to be one of the cool people?  Hells yeah, I did!  However, as cool as they are- I did NOT want to share this unique experience with 100 buffet-fed, visor-clad, fake nailed cruise ship passengers.  That would make it very un-unique.  So I took the advice of the locals and booked the trip for a Saturday, when no ship is docked in a Belizean port.

In fact, I think that what I ended up doing, transport-wise, was rather ingenious, and I highly recommend it to any traveler who is visiting Belize and taking a Western-bound route.  As I’d mentioned in my previous post, I had taken a shuttle directly from Flores to Belize City, stupidly believing that Belize didn’t have much to offer the visitor along the way.  How wrong I was!    In order to visit the caves of Western Belize, I was going to have to back-track from the Cayes, and this was at least a two hour bus ride.

So here’s what I did: I booked a cave tubing trip through cave-tubing.com, and asked to be picked up at the water taxi terminal in Caye Caulker.  Then, since I knew that Nohoch Che’en Caves Branch Archaeological Reserve was already at least an hour west of Belize City, I asked if they could possibly drop me off in Belmopan in the afternoon so that I could transfer to a bus heading west onward to San Ignacio: and whether I could safely store my backpack in their van while tubing.  This way, I killed two birds with one stone: the tour was cheaper out of Belize City, (it was offered in San Ignacio but was outrageously expensive, like $95 USD), and I got to complete this excursion and get to San Ignacio in the same day.

This plan worked out even more perfectly than I could have imagined.  I was emailed a confirmation of pick-up by a guide named Erskin, and I was to pay $60 USD to him when he dropped me in Belmopan. What I didn’t know, was that I was going to be the only one on the trip!  When I arrived at the terminal in Belize City, Erskin was there- in a beat up old Mazda.  I hesitated: As a single woman, do I really want to get in this man’s car in one of the most dangerous cities in Central America, and let him drive me into the jungle?

I checked my intuition: He had a guide’s license, he knew my name, and he had the same name as was promised me by the owner of cave-tubing.com.  I decided it would be ok.

How it is on the Cruise Ship Days: Avoid Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays

Erskin turned out to be a wonderful tour guide, and certainly gave me the VIP treatment.  He talked to me FOR HOURS about life in Belize, including lots of almost-too-personal information about his life.  This would require an entire post to cover, so that will be coming!

We arrived at the Archaeological site: the caves here contain lots of Mayan artifacts.  As I would also discover the following day, the Maya liked to use cave interiors for their religious ceremonies, leaving behind pottery remnants, bones, and even skeletons of those sacrificed to the gods! We got our gear which included a life vest, headlamps, and inner tube and started to make out way through the jungle.

It was a 20 minute walk to the opening of Cave Number Four.  The water was a crystal clear emerald color and you could see it darken to black in the distance of the tunnel.  I jumped in and began to float leisurely along.

I really wanted to enjoy the peace of the cave, but Erskin kept talking non-stop about Maya history.  Which, incidentally I’d heard countless times before.  When you visit a lot of Mayan ruins on a trip, you tend to hear the same stories over and over and I sometimes wish tour guides would realize this.  Ah, well.

The caves were enormous and full of beautiful formations that were mostly very dimly lit from either the entrance or exit to the caves themselves.  The caves had a wonderful echo and I had fun singing a few songs to Erskin when we had the place to ourselves.  A couple of times we passed other tour groups of four or five people all in a long tubing foot-to-shoulder embrace.  I was happy for the luck of my private tour.

At the Crystal Cave, Erskin was nice enough to let me jump out, swim over to the waterfall and get out exploring further. He showed me some artifacts and other little viewpoints that he said few got to see.  After twenty minutes of scrambling we made it back to the water, and I suggested that we swim back to our tubes instead of walking.

“Really?” he asked

“You want to swim?  Damn, girl!”

“Yes, of course I want to swim, it’ll only take a few minutes!”

Throughout the rest of the day, Erskin kept saying “Damn, girl!”- Every time I exhibited any non-Belizean female trait.  Though to be fair, he told me that even a lot of the GUIDES on this tour didn’t know how to swim!  Hard to believe, but apparently true.

The entire float took about an hour and a half to complete.  As we emerged into the sunlight, I couldn’t help but reflect on the trip and mention to Erskin that I wished they’d let persons who wanted more of a challenge, to be allowed to swim through the cave.

“Ha ha! Damn, girl!” he responded.

“Do you want to go back and do it again?  I challenge you!”

“Are you kidding?!” I replied, incredulous.

“You’d let me go back and swim through?”

“For sure, if you want, but I don’t think you have the nerve for it!”

“Damn straight I do! Let’s go!”

I couldn’t believe it!  I was going to get to do the entire cave system again, but this time without any life vest, tube, or headlamp.  How many people got a chance like this?!

Erskin and I enjoying dinner at a streetside grill

I must admit, I had a few nerves- especially about my decision to complete the task without a headlamp.  There were going to be some “blind” pitch black sections where I was going to have to control my fear and simply follow Erskin’s voice.

It was fantastic!  The whole thing took us just under thirty minutes and I got a good work out at the same time.  The dark passages were a little unnerving but I was so thrilled at the chance to do this totally on my own merits that I pushed through and suppressed the fear.

Erskin laughed at me the whole way.  He claimed that I was the first person he’d heard of swimming through this system solo- other than the guides, who were once “challenged” to do this by their boss.  Only a few complied.

So, the moral of the story is this.  If you ever get the chance to go cave tubing in Belize, see if you can try out the experience without the tube.  After all, this is the way the Mayans would have had to explore, right?

Then again, they probably had canoes.

Where: Nohoch Che’en Caves Branch Archaeological Reserve, between Belize City and Belmopan

When: April 2nd

How: with Cave-Tubing.com, on an innertube, and then by swimming! Private transfer from Belize City Water Terminal

Snorkeling With The Sharks, Hol Chan Marine Reserve

06 Wednesday Apr 2011

Posted by in Belize

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

,

Nurse Sharks in a feeding frenzy

There are several reefs on Caye Caulker that are just too shallow to dive, so they make great snorkeling spots for a diver like me.  Plus I had heard rave reviews of a particular spot known as Shark and Ray Alley in the Hol Chan Marine Reserve, where nurse sharks and stingrays congregate everyday around lunchtime because fishermen have been feeding them for years.

I’m not sure how I feel about feeding the fish and making them dependent on humans.  I also don’t know how I feel about going on a sailboat which is packed to maximum capacity such that there really isn’t much space to stretch out on an all-day sailing trip.

But I do know that all of that becomes far less important or irritating when there’s all-you-can-drink rum punch available on tap.

Seeing the nurse sharks practically jumping out of the water to munch on the fish being thrown overboard was quite a sight – almost more for observing people’s reactions to the sharks than the sharks themselves.  “Oh God!  I can never get in the water now!  Look at how many sharks there are!”, “What if they start feeding on me?”, and “What if its not safe?”

Please. Nurse sharks are bottom feeders.  They don’t even have sharp teeth!

Getting in the water was a bit of a cluster, people everywhere splashing creating lots of commotion.  I swam to the other side of the boat and calmly watched from a distance.  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone grabbing a stingray and practically pulling it out of the water. On a reflex, I surfaced and started yelling “what the hell do you think you’re doing??!” – although with more colorful language.  Turned out, the guy that was wrestling the helpless giant fish was one of the guides and felt that it was his prerogative to do as he pleased with the marine life.

I decided to choose my battles more carefully.

Later came the highlight of the snorkel trip for me: a spotted eagle ray gliding gracefully beneath me. And did I mention Rum Punch?

The boat ride back “home” was definitely more pleasant than the journey here.  I think that might have something to do with the fuzzy haze that came over me as I sipped from my filled Nalgene bottle.

Chilling on the Blackwater

I was feeling the reggae beat through my body, I was gleefully aware of the bobbing waves and the glorious afternoon sun on my skin.

And I’d found myself a little corner to chill on at the front of the boat, happily heeding Bob Marley’s words and not worrying about a thing.

Where: Hol Chan Marine Reserve, Caye Caulker

When: 31st March

How: BlackHawk Sailing

La Isla Bonita: Cycling in Ambergris Caye

05 Tuesday Apr 2011

Posted by in Belize

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Susi and I heading out on our rental bikes

When Madonna sang “Last night, I dreamt of San Pedro” in the late eighties, she was referring to the town of San Pedro on the island of Ambergris Caye off the coast of Northern Belize. After having enjoyed two incredible days of diving on Caye Caulker, I decided to head over to San Pedro, rent a bike, and see just how Bonita La Isla was.

I went with my new British Pal Susie who has a very strong head on her shoulders, a wicked sense of humor and an equally vibrant sense of fun. We hit it off immediately when we met in Flores at the Los Amigos Hostel. Susi had just taken a fall outside on the street and was icing her leg as I came in looking like I’d had the blood purposely drained from my body after my bus ride from Rio Dulce. Perhaps it was the shared sense of suffering. In any case, Susie’s Spanish was limited and she needed help re-booking a bus ticket to Belize City. I offered to make a call for her using my iPhone and Skype (which is a Godsend when you’re traveling I have to say for cheap calls on the go wherever there’s wifi!). The kinship was then solidified over a Chocolate Banana Smoothie.

So Susi and I headed off on the water taxi to San Pedro, a jiffy 30 minutes ride. On arrival, we talked with the most amazingly helpful hotelier who told us where to eat, rent bikes, and catch the boat home. She also suggested that we cycle all the way out to Captain Morgan’s Resort and rest up there while taking a dip in their pool.

Sounded like a stellar suggestion to us!

Riding along the beach

We feasted on Shrimp tacos and Banana Pancakes (sounds like an odd combination but it was the perfect marriage of yummy let me tell you) at Estel’s By the Sea, fuelling up for our mini-adventure.

After generously giving Susi the pink ladies’ bike and saying a little prayer for my girly bits, I mounted my oversized man’s bike and headed north. Susi cried out something about never having driven on the right hand side. I giggled to myself: it wasn’t like we were navigating four lanes of traffic.

Having said that, Ambergris Caye is by far noisier, and busier than Caye Caulker, and there are several vehicles other than golf carts on the streets. There is also a lot more construction going on, with one ugly condo complex after another going up for North Americans wanting to buy a slice of paradise.

The perfect hammock

After ten minutes or so, and cleverly out-peddling the sneaky bridge toll for bicycles (how ridiculous is that? To charge to ride a bike on a bridge??), we veered right to the beach path which was nothing more than hardened sand.

Or at least, mostly hardened sand.

At the Swim-Up Bar, Captain Morgan's Resort

These were not state-of-the-art mountain bikes and at times the sand got rather deep and I would hear Susi shrieking as she lost control. The upside of the difficulty of the trail was the combination of stellar ocean views to one’s right, and real estate-gazing heaven to one’s left. Mansion after mansion after beach villa unfolded before us with some of the most painfully picture perfect beach views I’d even seen, including what Susi and I dubbed “THE Perfect Hammock” which we photographed about a dozen times from different angles.

We finally arrived at Captain Morgans and sheepishly approached the pool bar with its “Resort Members Only” sign. Carlos, the bartender, warmly welcomed us and suggested we take a dip and order a cocktail at the swim up bar. There was no-one else around.

We were moved to tears.

Enjoying myself a little too much

After a fabulous hour of sun, swimming and “Sea Breezes”, we headed back to our water taxi via the main road singing the Island theme song at the top of our voices.

Yeah. Madonna had a point.

“Tropical Island Breeze, all of nature wild and free. This is where I long to be…La Isla Bonita.”

All my photos from The Cayes can be viewed here.

Where: San Pedro, Ambergris Caye, Belize.

When: 30th March

How: Caye Caulker Water Taxi to San Pedro, Joe’s Bike Rental, Drinks at Captain Morgan’s Resort

Caye Caulker Belize: The Ultimate Chill-Out

04 Monday Apr 2011

Posted by in Belize

≈ 2 Comments

Front Street in Caye Caulker

If Caye Caulker were any more laid back time would pass in reverse.  Streets are made with sand, there are no cars, and locals sit outside their shops and stalls passing the day by chatting with each other and the tourists as they stroll by, grooving to their Garifuna reggae beat.  The men seem to enjoy direct and often suggestive comments/questions, undeterred each day by the fact that you’ve ignored them the previous ten times you’ve passed.  “Whatcha doin’ girl? D’ya wanna come home wit me woman? Yeah, I’m talkin’ to choo girl!”

Swings instead of seats at Bambuze Happy Hour

One can walk from the south to the northern tip of the island in a half hour, passing white coconut-palmed fringe beaches dotted everywhere with inviting hammocks swaying in the breeze.  Of all the tropical islands I’ve visited- this is the closest I’ve been to a place that really looks like a postcard at every turn.

My favorite little touch here is the swings that they have in place of bar stools/benches.  When will that idea catch on back home?  I love it!

Turtle at Hol Chan Marine Reserve

One very easily falls into having the loveliest daily rituals here.  Activities during the day like kayaking, snorkeling or diving, followed by happy hour at Bambuze at 4pm. Then a slow meander north towards the Lazy Lizard, stopping along the way to buy cream cheese frosted fresh banana bread from “Cake Guy” Lloyd, who hangs out on the main street with his basket every after

The cake here is good and allows me the opportunity to use my rarely uttered word moist in its description.  A vestige from the British Empire, I am sure, as nowhere else in Central America have I tasted cake this good.

Then one settles on the beach at the Lazy Lizard, enjoying a two-for$7 “Panty Ripper” while groovin’ to the music as you watch the sun setting for another day.

Girls in their school uniforms

What’s for dinner? Fresh Snapper from the grill at Franz?  Fish kebobs from Rubies? Maybe stew with rice and beans from Sid’s.  The food has really been delicious here with a good Caribbean kick to it.

It’s really good for the soul to be somewhere with so few distractions.  A place that is just so small. I found it oddly mellowing.

At Half Moon Caye

Within just a few days, you start to recognize the locals’ faces and your fellow backpackers.  Any walk results in several stops to chat and get the details on someone’s coconut shrimp lunch, or their dive at The Blue Hole. After singing about twenty songs at Karaoke night, the locals stop to high-five me as they pass sayin’ “Damn, Girl!”

My hostel is one of a kind.  Where else can you get a shared dorm for $12 US a night that is directly on the beach, with a private dock containing hammocks swaying over the sea?  Yuma’s is run like a tight ship by Suzanne, the German owner who is much invested in her guests’ having an enjoyable stay.  I’ve met three other travelers here who have fast become my little island family to drink, eat, and share stories with.

Next door to Yuma’s there’s a cinema screen in a garden overlooking the beach that shows movies three times a week.  Entrance is free as long as you order a Belikin.

Sunset at The Lazy Lizard

Life is good on Caye Caulker.  I will definitely be back.

You can view the rest of my photos from Caye Caulker here.

Where: Yuma’s (previously Tina’s) Backpackers, Caye Caulker, Belize

When: 27 March – 2 April

How: Caye Caulker Water Taxi from Belize City to Caye Caulker. Shuttle from Flores dropped us right at the ferry terminal.

Diving The Blue Hole: Descending Into The Pit Of Hell

03 Sunday Apr 2011

Posted by in Belize

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

The Blue Hole as seen from the air

I had heard mixed reviews from people who had dived The Blue Hole, the dive site made famous by Jacques Cousteau.  An ancient cenote that was filled in by ocean that plummets over 450 feet to the ocean floor: a giant hole a quarter of a mile across in the reef, a massive underwater cave.

Some said that it was the best dive of their lives.  Others said it was nothing special: so dark that you could barely see anything and not much in the way of sea life. And another who described it to me on the night before my own experience, as “descending into the dark pit of hell.”

Foreboding words.

One thing I knew for sure.  This dive was deep- 45 meters or 145 feet at its maximum.  So deep that our total bottom time would not exceed 8 minutes.  The descent and ascent takes the majority of the dive to complete and therein, as I later found out, lay the real thrill of The Blue Hole.

Reef Tip Shark

I didn’t sleep well that night.  I dreamed that my climbing buddy came over to my house in Seattle and told me it was time to get up for my summit attempt of Mt. Everest, and I kept replying that I couldn’t go today because I had to dive The Blue Hole.Two of my passions that I both fear and love combining in my subconscious.

We set off at 0530 (what does the 0 stand for? Oh My God its early!), our coffee and cinnamon bread being denied the opportunity to digest as we launched over waves in a spine-battering two hour boat ride to the dive site.

My fear was dissipating and was being replaced with excitement.  This was going to be a day to remember.

Stalagmite formations inside

We were given the dive plan and advised that its best to try and descend as quickly as possible to allow for the most bottom time.  A “Freefall” descent was how it was described, equalizing constantly as we plunged 145 feet down through the blackness.  We were warned that many divers get “narc’ed” at this depth: essentially having too high a concentration of nitrogen in the system which can lead to nitrogen narcosis, and the giddy, irrational, and slightly high feeling it can produce.  He showed us the signal for warning our dive buddies that we were getting loopy in the head.

But what if our buddy was equally loopy?

That's me on the far right

We’d all heard the stories of people so “narc’ed” that they removed their regulators and tried to feed the fishes with it.  And there’s only one way to find our if you’re susceptible to it too.

Feeling a bit jittery in the water, my dive master was kind enough to hold my hand on the descent.  He raised his BCD hose in the air, asking if I was ready.

Now or never.

Down, down, down we went.  So far, so good.  No issues with my ears, which gave me a great sense of relief.  The only other battle was a mental one.  Fighting your brain that’s telling you you shouldn’t be underwater, let alone falling into the blackness of a submerged giant cave.  Fighting it’s interpretation of the visual information on your retina.  And trying not to think about the eerie feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Once at maximum depth, I will never forget what I saw and experienced.  Giant 30 and 40 foot stalagmites that reached up forming a tunnel attached to the outer wall of the Blue Hole.  Swimming through the tunnel, with other divers up ahead, clearly visible, but darkened by shadow.  Looking off to the right and seeing nothing but the chasm of water below, and…if you looked closely, the figures of seven or eight reef sharks circling the void expanse.

Ascending The Blue

This was unreal.

After what seemed like only a brief moment, my dive master gave the thumbs up to signal that it was time to start ascending the wall.  I really wanted to linger, but I knew that I was getting low on air.

Up, up, up I kicked, this time focusing my attention on the reef sharks circling me below and off to the side- trying to keep aligned with the wall at the same time.  This was just incredible.

At 30 feet we took a five minute safety stop in a shallower part of the reef that had some smaller fishes to enjoy and observe.  I had done it!  Almost at the surface now.

Time to breathe real air.  I came up, inflated my BCD and removed my mask to reveal a giant grin on my face.

Where: The Blue Hole Dive site, about two hours east of Caye Caulker, Belize

When: March 29

How: Frenchie’s Diving, Caye Caulker

Cost: $350 BZD (includes 3 dives, lunch, and transport, 530am-4pm

Tikal: Making The Most From Your Mayan Ruin

02 Saturday Apr 2011

Posted by in Guatemala

≈ 1 Comment

At the famed Jaguar Pyramid, Grand Plaza, Tikal

I took the bus from Rio Dulce to Flores and opted to make it my base for a visit to the famous Tikal ruins, about an hour and a half away by bus.  I had considered camping at Tikal itself, but felt that Flores offered more in terms of setting for activities before and after Tikal.

Overlooking The Grand Plaza

I am glad I made this choice.  Flores is a delightful little town on an island facing Lake Petén Itza, with cobbled streets and colorful houses that reminded me of a mini-Antigua.  Granted, it is very touristy, but the requisite swim and cool down by the lake in the hot afternoon sun was as memorable as it was needed.

Steep staircases make climbing the Pyramids a little safer

For Tikal itself, I recommend arriving there as early as possible, for a number of reasons:

1-      Seeing the majority of the site before the brutal heat of the afternoon

2-      Escaping the crowds that inevitably arrive on tour buses later in the morning

3-      Getting the chance to see the wildlife that makes the visit to Tikal that much more special. Our guide even “woke  up” the Howler monkeys by imitating their call, and it was amazing to listen to their cacophony in the canopy overhead.

I left Flores at the crack of dawn, after having only slept a few hours due to the noise in my hostel.  Nevertheless I thoroughly enjoyed my tour of Tikal, which was truly made special by a wonderful tour guide named Luis who appeared on Survivor Guatemala.  He had quite the character and really painted a picture when it came to giving us the history of Tikal, “The City of Voices”.

Nearing the top of the ladder

Here are some of the fascinating things I learned about Tikal that stood out and will stay with me:

  • Tikal has no natural water source, such that the Mayans created an elaborate drainage system to collect rainwater amazing when you consider this was once a city of over 100,000 people.
  • Each block of limestone used in Pyramid construction weighed over a hundred pounds, and was carried on the back and foreheads of the lower classes for several days after the river veered away from their destination.  Overland, in the intense heat.
  • The acoustics of Tikal are very impressive.  Standing in precise points before the pyramids, you realize that each structure is designed in such a way that a person’s voice and any music being played are naturally amplified across the complex in such a way that the need for microphones would be obsolete.  In this way, Mayan festivities and celebrations could be enjoyed by all.

Sunset at beautiful Lago Peten Itza

  • The Jaguar complex and each of the pyramids are aligned with the stars in such a way that the sunlight at noon on the spring equinox casts a shadow that points directly to the exact center of the Grand Plaza.  Being there only a few days afterwards, you could see the shadow was already a few degrees off.
  • Tikal is on a precise trajectory with all of the other Mayan sites to the north, south, east, and west, in such a way that you could draw a straight line, once again, through the sun’s path and its shadow from, for example, the top of El Mirador, directly, once again to the center of the Grand Plaza.  The scientific, and astronomical precision that this requires is mind-boggling even in light of today’s technology.

Where: Tikal & Flores: Hostal Las Amigos

When: 25-27 March

How: Local bus from Rio Dulce to Flores/Santa Elena, Tuk tuk to Flores. Private shuttle to Tikal.

How NOT To See Livingston In A Day

01 Friday Apr 2011

Posted by in Guatemala

≈ 1 Comment

Lillipads over the lovely Rio Dulce

Deciding whether you should stay a night in a place you haven’t seen yet can be difficult.  Especially if you’re short on time and you need to come back to the point of origin anyway to get an onwards bus. I knew I would be experiencing lots of Garifuna culture and cuisine in the Cays of Belize, and the only other attraction I was interested in was the Seven Altars: a series of 7 freshwater pools cascading through the jungle into the ocean.  I decided that the extra 60 quetzales for two one-way tickets might not be worth it.

Turtle sunning itself

I opted instead for the return day-trip which gives you just over three hours to explore Livingston.

The boat ride itself along the Rio Dulce was far more interesting than I had imagined.  We saw abundant bird life, turtles and thousands of lilies decorating the river’s inlets where locals still had their homes built on stilts.  On the approach to Livingston, the river narrowed with 800 foot cliffs covered in lush vegetation stretching up from the river’s edge on either side.  The brisk wind as we sped along on the power boat made the journey very refreshing and enjoyable.

Once in Livingston, knowing these vital facts would have allowed us to actually enjoy the Seven Altars in the limited time that we had:

  • Getting a box lunch the night before and taking it with us.  Even a “quick lunch” took over an hour to serve, eating into our three hour window.
  • Making sure we had enough cash withdrawn from the ATM in Rio Dulce, as the ones in Livingston were not working.
  • Knowing ahead of time that the Seven Altars is privately owned and therefore cost 15 quetzales per person entry fee.  Not having any money after paying for lunch left us with only enough to pay for the taxi ride there and back!
  • It’s a 45 minute walk each way, NOT 20 minutes as we were assured by our taxi driver, from the furthest point out of town that a taxi can take you on the way to the Seven Altars.

Finally at The Seven Altars

Needless to say, we didn’t get to enjoy the Seven Altars very much.  Arriving breathless, with barely 5 minutes left before we had to turn around to make the taxi back in time for the boat, I tried to explain how we didn’t have any money because the ATM’s were broken.  The entry guard did not buy our story and refused us, until we started walking away dejected and he realized we were telling the truth.

We dashed in to see the pools and were sadly denied the chance to dip in the inviting cool water because of time, being left only the chance to snap a few pictures.  Practically running back along the, I hate to say, litter strewn beach path, we arrived about 20 minutes late at the taxi awaiting our return.

Incredulously, the taxi driver was irate with us, berating our tardiness and complaining how long he’d had to wait.  Explaining that it was he who had given us inaccurate information with which to base our time estimate of the walk upon fell on deaf ears.  I was seething silently on the drive back to the boat which we made just in time.

However, getting out of the cab, I really lost it when the driver insisted we pay him more because we had taken 20 minutes longer than we should have.  I couldn’t believe it, and unfortunately my mouth let fly with the best Spanish expletives I could muster to sum up just how I felt about paying more because of his error.  I suggested that he go and take the walk himself and time it, because we would have had to do 7 minute miles, across trash mind you, for it to have taken what he’d said.

Awful litter situation all along the beach in Livingston

With a slam of the door, I was happily back on the boat, resolved to write this post to save future day-trippers from having the same experience.

Where: Rio Dulce to Livingston for the day

When: March 24

How: Boat