Up River To Las Marias

Day three and we are off in another small boat to go to Las Marias, a community on the Rio Platano. The boat was basic to say the least, another dugout type boat with a few holes stuffed with rags. We sat on wooden chairs – one behind the other – and the driver at the back. Luckily we had a motor for this trip as it would be long.

The first part we went through the lagoon, then a series of creeks before we hit the river. The whole area is so beautiful and feels very untouched, save the odd family living here or there.

It was going to be a much longer trip going this way as we’re going upstream the whole way and the river gets quite strong in parts – and it is surprisingly shallow in many parts.

Before too long we were seeing all sorts of birds and the odd turtle, sunbaking on a bit of wood, stuck in the middle of the river. There was an incredible amount of debris in the water too, the river banks are eroding and as they do the trees collapse into the river, making it very tricky to navigate as you’re always winding around the trees in the water. Sometimes we would hit a branch or something that we couldn’t see below the water.

At lunch we stopped to eat at a family’s house with the food Mario had prepared for us in Belen. The people were friendly although they set up a table for us then left us to it. Our company was the dog who was definitely the skinniest I’ve ever seen, and that is really saying something after spending a decent amount of time in Central America. Luckily we were served about four times as much rice as we needed so the dog did well. She had a litter of small puppies to take care of too and they didn’t look the strongest creatures I’ve seen. Then one of them fell down a 3-4 metre drop and into the river – poor thing. It was saved though and a little shaken and upset but okay.

A few more hours to go before we hit Las Marias and I was starting to get quite sunburnt but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I was covering my head with my jacket but no matter what I did the sun would find its way straight onto my face.

It was about 4.30pm when we eventually arrived at Doña Rutilia’s place on the river. An idyllic spot with chickens, pigs and dogs all wandering around the place, some orange trees and coconut trees and a happy family.

We thought it would be nice to relax and have a beer while the sun was setting after seven hours on the boat but the only beer they had was warm – that would do we said and it really wasn’t as bad as you’d imagine – warm beer in a can.

Belen

We were meant to head to Las Marias today but we said we needed a quiet day and another night in Belen – Mario was more than happy to oblige. So after a late breakfast of fried fish, mashed beans and fried breadfruit, we all went back to bed and woke up in time for lunch.

In the afternoon Mario took us on a walk around the villages. There are small communities of Mosquito and Pech people here and it is difficult to tell one from the other as they are all along this one road we walked along last night.

The beach is one one side of the peninsula and the lagoon on the other. Most houses are timber, some on stilts, with the occasional concrete house.

The main work here is diving for lobster which the men do so most of the women and children seem to spend the day hanging around, obviously once they’re done with their domestic duties. The kids are really cute and ask you to take their photo so they can have a look, then all the pushing, shoving and giggling follows, everyone trying to see themselves tiny screen.

But today mostly involved rest as we are all phenomenally tired after yesterday and there will be a six hour boat ride upstream tomorrow.

Beached As...

It was an early start, Matilda and Christer picked me up at 5.20am to head to the bus station. It wasn’t a long wait for the bus but just enough time to drink a coffee and eat an empanada for breakfast. Then the two or so hour journey to Tocoa. The bus was meant to drop us at the market there and the bus guy said he would but when we got to Tocoa he said no and we ended up walking ten minutes or so to the market.

There we met Eddis who was organizing our pickup to Batalla. It would be 7-9 hours along a mainly dirt road – depending on the condition of the road. By this time it was about 8.30am and we were keen to go. Eddis asked if we wanted to eat, no we were ready to go, it would already be a long day. He packed our bags in the back and there was some discussion with him and his friends. They then loaded four bags of frozen chickens in the back. Then they got in and took off. Twenty minutes he said. So we went across the road and had a coffee while we waited, all a bit confused by what just happened. Twenty minutes passed, an hour passed, soon enough we were beginning to panic. I had my passport and credit card locked in that bag and there was no sign of Eddis or the pickup.

We tried to call Claudia who was organizing everything but she didn’t pick up her phone. Eddis wasn’t answering his either. Tocoa is not really the kind of place you want to hang around at any time and there was a lot of police and military men milling around with large guns and other weapons attached to them. By now we were getting cranky and quite concerned that they’d never come back – and if they did, god only knows what time we’d get to Belen.

Finally Eddis picked up his phone – cinco minutos he said. And sure enough they arrived a little while later with the pickup packed up to the wahoo with all sorts of cargo. So by 10.30am we were finally off. Six of us in the car and three on top of all the cargo.

When we stopped for lunch just before two they said it would be only two and a half hours more and we thought the roads seemed to be pretty good. It would be nice to be able to get the boat from Batalla to Belen in daylight we thought and on this timing we could manage it.

Not long after lunch we stopped at a river crossing which was just a timber pontoon that was pulled across the river by rope. The car boards by driving up on some strategically placed timber slats, not much wider than a car tyre. The driver told us it was best if we stood outside the car, just in case he said. We were a little nervous but it all went smoothly, thankfully.

Another hour or so later and we hit sandy terrain, right by the beach and soon enough we were driving on the beach. It felt a bit like being in the Darien Gap – the roads just end so you have to drive along the beach. I thought it was quite a cool thing to do until we got bogged. They told us this is one of the dangers and can happen occasionally. We spent a bit of the time laughing at the situation – I could not see how we could possibly get the car out of here and it’s not like there’s loads of passing traffic. I had visions of the car getting washed into the surf.

They tried to get some wood under the worst tyre but there was too much cargo and nothing was moving. Eventually they unloaded most of the cargo to lighten the load. This was not an easy process. There were 22 50kg bags of rice alone. I estimated about 3 tonne of cargo. The stock of an entire mini-supermarket – everything was on board.

It took a good half hour to unload then the task of finding wood to put under the tyres started. We got involved to rock the car and help lever the wheel up to get the wood underneath. But just as we got them set a wave would come up and ruin all our good work. Talk about mission impossible.

Finally after over an hour, another car came down the beach and was getting ready to pull us out with rope but just at that moment, with a good push, the car came out. We were hoping we could get a ride with the other car, but no. So then the job started to reload the pickup again, another twenty minutes or so. Finally, an hour and a half later, we were off. The rest of the drive was pretty much along the beach and we were all a bit nervous about it now, particularly as it was now high tide and waves were splashing against the side of the car.

We came to another lagoon crossing involving the pontoon. This time we stayed inside the car. The sun was just setting and it was quite beautiful. Not too long later we hit another pontoon crossing, and shortly after that another one. Talk about the road less travelled.

Unfortunately on the final one the car missed one of the timber slats and got stuck. Unbelievably, we went through the entire process again of unloading everything off the pickup. By now it was dark and it was intermittently raining and quite cool.

About an hour later we’d sorted out that disaster and finally arrived in Batalla around 7.30pm. The three of us were sitting in the pickup wondering what was happening as the motor was still running (as it had been all day, even when we stopped for lunch and got bogged) but the others all got out. Finally one guy was coming past and I asked him where we were and what was going on. This is Batalla he said, the last stop. Yes I see you need some information. No Kidding! Eddis wasn’t really being the heroic figure we’d hoped for in this wilderness.

Much confusion ensued. We would have to stay in Batalla for the night as there were no boats and it was too dangerous. Then we were told that we could get a ride with the Pastor so it would be safe. This yes/no situation went on for a couple of hours so we had some dinner at Dona Pati’s and she gave us a bottle of apple wine called Night Train that you drink mixed with Coke – not bad and we really needed a drink.

We thought in the absence of anyone caring less about helping us, we’d just have some drinks until someone told us what to do. One of the other drivers who’d come in from Tocoa earlier was generously encouraging us to enjoy his Guarita (local moonshine) mixed with pineapple juice – not bad but you don’t feel so good later.

Eventually at around 9.30pm they told us the boat was here but don’t worry we’re not going yet. After a while we went down to it and they were loading the contents of the pickup on this longboat. Somehow we managed to squeeze on and by 10.30pm we were off.

We didn’t arrive to Belen until 1am and it was quite a cool ride but a perfect night with millions of brilliant stars. Our understanding was that we would be dropped at the lodge where we were meant to stay – but no. One of the guys on the boat, after some encouragement, walked us up to the “road” and said walk along it for half an hour. Great.

Okay so its now one in the morning, pitch black and we have no idea where we are going, the only thing we could do is walk for half an hour and then knock at someone’s door.

Luckily Matilda and Christer had torches so we bumbled along, avoiding cow patts, barking dogs and many puddles. At one point my thong broke but we got it back together again.

After about 40 minutes some barking dogs woke a family and they came out with torches to see what was going on, we asked them for help. The said we’d gone too far and tried to help us with directions. But it was impossible to know one place from another and there were no signs anywhere, not even so much as a light on in the entire place. A few houses we went up to and tried to get some help but couldn’t manage to wake anyone.

I was ready to sleep anywhere, by now it was about 2.30am and we’d been walking aimlessly for an hour and a half. Finally Matilda and Christer went off and I stayed with the bags and they knocked at someone’s door and it turned out he was Mario’s neighbour so he took them over.

Mario had called Dona Pati earlier in the evening but she told him we were having dinner now and would stay in Batalla for the night so he wasn’t expecting us.

You could imagine the state of us, mud covered feet, all messed up from the beach experience and nearly 23 hours of travel. We were completely exhausted and hit the pillow at 3.20am with very weary bones.

Yes, it was an adventure.

An uneventful couple of weeks

Well I'm sorry to report that the past week and a half has seen me doing not too much at all. I have kept on moving and everywhere I've been I've been commonly referred to as the sick girl or coughing girl.

I spent a couple of days in Placencia in Belize before getting the boat across to Honduras. One thing that constantly surprised me in Belize when on buses was the cultural mix. Yes, there are plenty of Mayan, Spanish, Garifuna, Caribe, Creole in Belize - to be expected. But every time I got on a bus in the mainland, I would always see Mennonites. The plainly-dressed white skinned, blonde haired and blue eyed Mennonites always beckoned a second glance. There is quite a large community of them here in Belize.

The boat ride to Puerto Cortes was quite a trip. I was coughing the entire way to the point where my eyeballs nearly popped out. But that was quite okay considering I didn't notice half of the driftwood and trees floating in the water. We were on an extremely fast boat and it wasn't always easy for the captain to see whatever was floating in our way. At one point we did hit something but it did no great damage. Often we'd be speeding along and then at the last second quickly turn to avoid something. Most things I think were the product of Tropical Storm Matthew, as well as the regular debris. I did manage to spot a few entire coconut palms floating by though - no kidding.

I managed to get as far as San Pedro Sula that day - the HIV/AIDS capital of Central America. Not a particularly desirable location and it was probably just as well as I didn't really get out much. The one saving grace was a very nice restaurant across the road from the hostel so a group of us had a bit of a splurge on Saturday night - steak and red wine - as enticing to me as lobster right now. I got down to the chemist as well. You can get most prescription medications over the counter here but I thought I'd just stick to mega doses of vitamins.

I've spent the past five days in and around La Ceiba - another non-eventful and undesirable location. Its where you can really see the difference between the Central American cultures as well. I can't remember the last place I was in where you are constantly wolf-whistled and hassled as you walk down any street - it is constant and annoying so far in Honduras.

I just spent a couple of days at a place in a national park nearby La Ceiba, quite a pretty spot by a river. You can really tell it's low season though as there is hardly anyone around. Most of yesterday we were without electricity and last night there was no beer at all. Fortunately I had my travelling bar of rum and wine. There was another couple staying there too - Aussie guy and Dutch girl. We'd sit around at night drinking and playing cards - I provided the bar and they provided the cards and company. Who knew there was a Monopoly version of cards!

Tomorrow I'm heading off for a week long trip to La Moskitia - the Mosquito Coast. That is the main reason I've been hanging around here this week - that and to get back to health. I'm looking forward to getting on the road and doing stuff again.

Tobacco Caye

I was lucky to get a room on Tobacco Caye as most of the places were still closed - dealing with the big clean up and most of the staff were still not back after the evacuation. Dean who owns the Paradise, where I stayed, was reluctant to let me in but looking sick and pitiful he agreed to clean a room up for me.

Tobacco Caye is a very small island, only five acres. In the storm the water rose several feet and washed up all sorts of rubbish and debris and the place was covered with fallen palm leaves, coconuts, dirt and shells. It was a really big clean up with only a few there to get it done. I told Dean if I felt better I'd give him a hand but all I could manage was to lay in my hammock and read.

The accommodations on the Caye include all meals so I felt quite spoiled coming to dinner to see two lobster tails on my plate. Dean also decided to give me some medicine for whatever it is I have. He is after all the island doctor he told me, qualified because his girlfriend is a nurse!

The next morning there was a knock at my door - the only other tourist on the island was Leanne, an Aussie. She arrived the day before me and heard there was another tourist here. Sadly I wasn't up to joining her for a day out on a boat with snorkelling but I did promise to catch up with her in the bar that night for a quiet rum - it would be good for my cough.

I didn't do much that day either although I did pop out for a little snorkel which you can do right off the island as the reef is just there. I also went for a walk to circumnavigate the island - that took about ten minutes. It was slightly embarrassing when people who I'd never met before were asking me how I was feeling. With only about 10 locals on the island and two tourists - there's no secrets here.

Tobacco Caye is lovely although I didn't get to see it in its usual beauty and the weather was just okay. Although if I'm feeling like crap I think I'd rather be in an overwater cabin, laying in a hammock reading a book, than anywhere else...

Waiting for the storm

The mainland towns in Belize are more like country towns - dusty/sandy roads, old tumbledown wooden houses with not a straight wall or floor in sight and people slowly going about their business.

Dangriga is the largest town in the south of Belize with a population of about 10,000 - but there is nowhere to go out at night. The streets are full of locals hanging around or walking about but no-one actually goes anywhere in particular for entertainment. It's kind of strange. Sam and I ended up at a little restaurant type place for a couple of beers after wandering around for a good hour trying to find somewhere to go.

With not much to do here, i figured I'd head out to Tobacco Caye the following day. To get there you head to the Riverside Cafe in the morning and the boat captains wait for enough people to make the trip worth their while. The day before I was having lunch in a restaurant and they had the weather channel on. The Tropical Depression "Matthew" which was on its way had just been upgraded from a tropical depression to a tropical storm - not great news as it was heading directly for Belize. At the cafe in the morning they were studying the satellite images on the internet and it looked as though we might be okay, Matthew would hit Honduras sometime on Saturday night and hopefully dissipate once it was overland. Just before we were about to go the call came in that they were evacuating Tobacco Caye so I wasn't able to go after all. Given I was ready to go somewhere, Dog, the boat captain, suggested I head to Hopkins.

Hopkins is another Garifuna town and has a population of about 1,000 and I can confidently say that I was the only tourist there. It is a long dirt road that runs along a spit for several miles so everything is very spaced out making quite long distances to walk from one place to another. Most of the restaurants were closed and there wasn't really anything else going on so it was probably quite good timing to pick this place to get sick and wait out the storm.

Matthew finally arrived on Saturday night and while it downgraded again to a Tropical Depression, it packed a huge punch - the wind and rain was unbelievable. It was about midday on Sunday when the weather finally settled down and everything had an eerie calmness to it. Dorothy who ran the place where I stayed suspected it was then the eye of the storm and we would get the other half soon but it turned out that last night's chaos was all there was - thankfully.

Independence Day

The 21st of September is Independence Day in Belize. Originally a British colony, Belize gained independence in 1981 and today has a population of just over 300,000. Belize is a small country bordering Mexico and Guatemala with a long coastline on the Caribbean Sea boasting the second longest barrier reef in the world.

The festivities for Independence Day have been going on for a while and when I arrived there was a huge party next door at the basketball court, ahem, I mean, Central Park. Last night was the fireworks and today the parade.

The island was in a party mood last night and we kicked off with a visit back to our karaoke bar where we realised we weren't as good as we thought we were. But we kept practicing.

At midnight were the fireworks. Everyone piled over to the eastern side of the island where they were set off from the end of a dock. Given the population of Caye Caulker is somewhere between 1,200 and 2,000, there was plenty of room for everyone and you could hear the oohs and ahhs from people standing a long way away, rather than someone on top of you screaming in your ear like in Sydney on NYE. The fireworks were absolutely beautiful and went for a solid fifteen minutes, about twelve minutes more than I expected. After the fireworks the "Central Park" again turned into a big nightclub type place, booming music but not much dancing. Unbelievably, every child was still there at 1.30am - no one misses out on this party.

Today was the parade which everyone was looking forward to. A local guy, Madingo, who I met at the Lazy Lizard yesterday, was making hats and costumes for some of the girls. He actually made a hat for us while we were at the bar - you'll see it and him in the video if you can bear the hectic pace of the parade - it's towards the end.

The 2pm parade kicked off just before 3pm and there was much anticipation. It travelled about 100 metres up the main street and then down one of the side streets and around the block. It's a small island so we do small versions of everything, Kevin told me. Most people get around the island with either golf carts or bicycles so there were plenty of decked out versions of both in the parade - as well as the hilarious fire engine which led the parade. As I write this, "Central Park" is again party central with very loud reggaton music and the odd nationalistic song thrown in. Everyone's having a great time - how could you not?