All good things come to an end.

Thanks to Santa Semana our impression of Belize before Tobacco Caye had not been good. Nothing to do. Nothing to see. And occasionally, nothing to eat. If it weren’t for the tourist hotspots of Caye Calker and Tobacco Caye we would have left Belize after our first 48 hours. We had originally planned to head south through Belize to Guatemala but Craig and Andrew had promised us great things in San Ignacio on the western border with Guatemala. So a detour and reworking of our itinerary was in order. At 9am we left Craig and Barbara on the dock as we took the boat back to Dangriga.

This time the ride was smooth. Supposedly any boat ride is better in the morning – good to know. And even Dangriga was better the second time around. There were people on the street and shops were open – there was life there after all. But not enough to make us stick around. Within 20 minutes we were on a bus to boring Belmopan (still as boring) where we had to transfer to the San Ignacio bus.

We were glad for a little break so we could get the circulation back to our butt cheeks and we deliberately missed the first San Ignacio bus to prolong our break. The second bus was just as full as the first and sped along the Western Highway testing its limits every 10km when someone on the curb waved it down. But that wasn’t the most exciting thing. That would happen just outside of San Ignacio.

There were a few rowdies sitting at the back of the bus – it seemed in keeping with the school bus décor. One guy in particular was hassling the driver and the ticket guy. Now hassling the ticket guy I can understand. They’re usually tiny little guys which is great for squeezing between the packed seats. But hassling the driver is brave. Everyone I’d seen looked like the love child of a drill sergeant and linebacker. Since the conversations were in a mixture of Criol and Garifuni, Adrian and I weren’t sure of the details. But imagined it went something like this.
“You drive like my mother.”
“Watch what you say about my mother.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything worse than what’s written about her in the bathroom stalls.”
Or something like that.

Since no one else on the bus seemed bothered by the exchange we blocked it out. But when the loud mouth got off the bus he must have said something particularly bad because the next thing we knew, the supposed bad boy was running scared through the bushes as the wiry ticket boy waved a machete at him and the hulking driver yelled something at him from the bus. It was a tense moment until the entire bus broke out into laughter at the bad boys expense. Apparently he was all talk and figuratively wet himself when given a bit in return.

Arriving in San Ignacio was a bit anticlimactic after that. Even when we had to hit up 4 places before we found a room, our stress levels barely tweaked. We eventually found a cheap room with a shared bathroom in the Tropicool which sounds much more happening than it was. In reality just 5 rooms and two bathrooms on the bottom floor of the house. But it was clean, quiet and cool. The last point being the most important since we’d traveled inland leaving the cool sea breezes behind.

There is no internet on tiny islands but there are good people.

Tobacco Caye was turning into my favourite stop so far. Not because of the accommodations (good but not the best we’d had). Nor the scenery (the island was tiny and easily seen in about 10 minutes). But because of the hominess. It allowed us to get to know the other people staying on the island. Sure we’d met folks in Mexico but the nature of different travel plans, schedules and meant we were lucky to get people’s names. But stuck 15 kilometres offshore on a 5-acre island without internet and only 4 hours of power a day, we spent quality time with others because frankly there wasn’t much else to do.

It was nice not just for sharing tips but for new human contact. Travelling as a couple is great because you have a built in buddy but it’s also nice to have someone new to talk to about new things. We were lucky enough that our neighbour Craig was willing to put up with us. The communal dining set up helped us get over the awkward initial introductions and chat about life the universe and everything.

So we spent our last full day alternating between talking, reading, writing, snoozing and hanging out with new friends. There was Craig as well as one of the islands dogs and a cat who adopted us. As we watched Che on the laptop that night, drinking rum that Craig was generous enough to share with us, the cat curled up between us on the bed.

It’s the kind of experience that you can’t take pictures of and stick in a photo album but they make some of the best memories.

One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish

As the tourist brochures proudly proclaim, the second largest coral reef in the world (and growing) lies off the coast of Belize. So watch out Australia. It was now within a stone’s throw from our cabin porch tempting us from the moment we arrived on Tobacco Caye.

After our communal breakfast, we all headed out with Blinkie to explore it. Joining us on the tour were two more Canadians (this was getting ridiculous) from Vancouver Island. Adrian stared hesitantly at the boat, remembering yesterday’s rough ride. But the seats today actually had backs and cushions and the sea was calm. So he was convinced to get in. Well, that and the snorkeling.

Our first stop was the manatee reserve to look for these large so-ugly-they’re-cute water mammals affectionately known as sea cows. It was mating and birthing season so we were told we couldn’t snorkel but we had a 90% chance of seeing one from the boat. However, seeing was a misnomer. Manatees only pop up for air for a moment or two before going back underwater. Plus they hate boats. Propellers are the number one killer of manatees – I’d hate them too. In an hour we spotted two lumps and trusted they were manatees. Hopefully our sea life spotting odds would improve while snorkeling.

On the way to the reef, we passed by Man o’ War Caye known locally as Bird Island. It was roughly the same size as Tobacco Caye but covered in thousands of birds instead of Canadians, making me feel like I was Tippi Hedren in a Hitchcock movie. But we didn’t have to worry about bird attacks as they were too busy mating and babysitting. We did have to worry about one thing.

“This is the only place in Belize that it snows,” Blinkie said with a smile. Immediately we all pulled our arms in under the boat’s awning.

Unscathed we headed to a spot on the reef, geared up and jumped in the water. Adrian was a little unnerved about jumping into deep water so far from shore so Blinkie lead him to a shallow in the reef. I followed him. Good thing because my snorkel did not fit well so every third breath I was getting a mouth full of sea water which kinda defeats the purpose of a snorkel. Adrian and I switched. That fixed the problem and soon we were both feeling comfortable enough to join the rest of the group.

It was great floating around the sea, looking down on schools of fish in a rainbow of colours. Blinkie pointed out three different types of rays hiding amongst the coral and under the sand. He even swam down and coaxed them out. They swam, erm flapped, um glided away. Even when the fishes thinned out the coral was spectacular, big round brain corals, purple stuff like trees and the rocky main reef. I was so entranced that I didn’t notice a wave pushing me over the coral cutting my thigh. Good thing we hadn’t spotted any sharks nearby.

We spent an hour and a half floating around before heading back to the boat. Getting in everyone grimaced at the blood coming out of my cut – it looked worse than it was. So I pressed my hat up against the cut to stop the bleeding while we headed back to the Caye only 2 minutes away, just in time for the lunch bell.

At $25 US the tour was a bit pricey but well worth it. We signed out the gear until the next day and spent the afternoon exploring the reef around the Caye. The fishes and coral weren’t as spectacular but there was enough to make it worthwhile. It was about this time that I realized that I’d missed putting sun screen on the back of my thighs – there’s always one spot I miss. So I went to hide under some shade and left Adrian. While I caught up on my journal (the blog would have to wait until we had internet access again), Adrian attempted to swim around the entire Caye. He had to give up when it got to shallow on the east side.

Over dinner we compared our list of underwater spottings. Apparently, I’d missed puffer fish, barracudas and starfish. But since we had barracuda for dinner, I’d say I only missed two out of the three.

Don’t pay the ferryman ‘til he gets you to the other side.

I knew little about Tobacco Caye. Our Lonely Planet was woefully out of date (at least 5 years) and had only a passing mention. But thanks to a friend’s reco and some quick internet searching, I’d managed to piece together that it was a tiny key about 30 minutes offshore right on the barrier reef, great for snorkeling and diving and very chill. I expected it to be like Caye Calker but the minute we got to the dock I knew just how off the comparison was. This was no terminal. There was no ticket desk. There was just a guy named Bernard and a boat. A small boat.

We agreed on a price. But before we got onboard, Adrian needed breakfast. Or rather lunch. Because the only thing open was a small shack selling chicken, rice and beans. This time we mixed it up and got the beans and rice. Not quite a full English but after two days of gas station and convenience store cuisine it was delicious and cheap too. With full stomachs it was time to get on the boat. It was just three benches and Bernard soon filled them up. Meaning I ended up sitting in the middle which started out uncomfortable but became excruciating as soon as we pulled out of Dangriga. The boat should have planed smoothly over the water but a combination of a full load and lots of waves had us slamming down as if the water was concrete. Not only was my butt getting bruised but my lower back killing me.

With nothing but sea in sight, I had nothing to distract me from the pain made worse by that stupid song kept playing in my head on repeat. “Don’t pay the ferryman don’t even say the price. Don’t pay the ferryman until he gets you to the other side.” Finally, a strip of land dotted with cabanas and deluxe huts came into view on the horizon. Yay we’re here. But as we got close to it, the boat turned away to a break in the caye and kept going further out towards a tiny spec that didn’t get much bigger as we headed towards it. This was Tobacco Caye, five square acres of land on the edge of the Central American barrier reef.

We pulled up to a dock. We had made it to the other side (barely) so I paid our ferryman. But our journey wasn’t over. We still didn’t have a place to stay. And without a map or roads to follow we just started walking. Tobacco Caye was a bump in the ocean scattered with guest houses and cabanas. We weaved through them getting a little bit lost until I recognized some of the cabanas from the pictures Andrew had sent me.

“Excuse me?” I asked a guy lying in a hammock, “Where’s the office?”
“Don’t know. I was met at the dock,” he replied, “but try over there by the restaurant”
As I rounded the corner, I ran into a woman.
“Are you Elaine?” she asked me.
“No. Elizabeth. Are you Karen?”
“No Barbara.”
Oh maybe this wasn’t the place from the photographs. But it looked nice and I was sick of carrying our backpacks. 
“Oh. Do you have room for two?”

She did. And as Adrian painstakingly assessed and compared the two available cabins, she and I continued talking. Soon realized we were indeed the people we had been looking, we were just both bad with names. She was Barbara, friend of Andrew and transplanted Canadian who’d arrived a year ago on the Caye and hadn’t looked back. And this was the Tobacco Caye Lodge I’d seen in the photos.

We settled into our lime green cabana with a big comfy bed, a private bathroom and three square meals a day. This was luxury. Finally we’d discovered what Belize had to offer. Beach. Sun. And chilling.

Next door to us was another Canadian, Craig (Hi Craig). He was traveling from Cancun through Belize but had bypassed the north and Belize City in favour of San Ignacio. He liked it so much that he stayed there for 10 days – a strong second recommendation for a town we originally weren’t going to get to. Then the dinner bell rang and we continued our conversation in the communal dining room. The other guests, two Swiss gentlemen were already there. Blinkie, the lodge’s guide, told us he was doing a snorkeling tour the next day and we all signed.

Night had fallen suddenly while we were eating and when we were done it was pitch black outside except for the bazillions of stars. It didn’t leave much to do so Adrian and I went back to the cabin and watched more episodes of Dexter. Outside we heard drumming and singing so we turned off the computer and headed towards the music. At the tiny beach bar a bunch of Garifuna guys were playing a bunch of unique percussion instruments (marimbas, turtle shells, etc) while a bunch of people from the Raggamuffin tour boat drank and danced around them. The tour group was on Tobacco Caye for the night as they sailed from Caye Calker to Placencia stopping at small islands like this on the way – a much better boat ride to Tobacco Caye than ours.