You can read the introduction here, which lists everywhere we stayed in Belize and every service we used, with links, and can easily be used to put together your own itinerary.

Part one of the travelogue is about our arrival in Belize and first days in Hopkins.

Part two is about our motorcycle ride to San Ignacio and visits to St. Herman's Cave and the interior blue hole.

Part three is about our ride to Caracol by motorcycle and all about that incredible site.

Part four is about our trip to Flores & Tikal (Guatemala).


Xunantunich & Cahal Pech & Rain Rain Rain

The folks at Warrie Head Resort had texted to say we could check in as early as we wanted and could leave whatever stuff we wanted at their place while we headed out to tour whatever we were going to tour, even though check in time was much later in the afternoon - just like everywhere else. And so that's what we did: we got up early, loaded up the bikes, bid a fond, fond farewell to the Midas Resort hotel and restaurant staffs (I really cannot say enough wonderful things about them), and headed out to Warrie Head Resort, back on the highway way we had driven on originally to enter San Ignacio.

Just before the entrance to the resort, we encountered our first police checkpoint. What police checkpoints want to see is your driver's license and proof you should have possession of your vehicle. The latter is stored with the tools on our rented motorcycles, which requires us to pull over, get off the bikes and unlock the cases - not easy to do. By the time I was unlocking the case, the police said we could go on.

I want to be clear that I don't expect to get special treatment from police because I'm a foreigner, in terms of the law. If locals have to show ID and what not, I should have to as well. I don't resent that. I just get SO NERVOUS when it happens and I fumble.

We were at Warrie Head Resort before 9. We got a warm welcome from the owners, who turned out to be new owners. They are from Canada (I thought Wisconsin, for sure) and had spent time in Belize over many years - but now they were property owners! When the owner said, "oh, stay and have breakfast in the restaurant!" we decided to do so. Because - VACATION! And it was delicious - I was so happy to have pancakes! But it meant getting to Xunantunich later, and that meant when it was hotter. And the heat of Belize was getting to me.

We had decided earlier that we would not be wearing our motorcycle pants that day - just our regular hiking pants. So I guess our ATGATT credentials are now revoked. But since we weren't going that far, we certainly weren't going that fast, traffic was surprisingly reasonable, drivers were surprisingly respectful of motorcycle riders, and it was hotter than Hades, we decided it would be best to keep as cool as possible. And I do not regret the choice: damn, but it was hot.

Stefan's boots now had more zip ties on them. The soles were completely detaching.

The ride to Xunantunich, once we figured out how to get through San Ignacio (SO CONFUSING!), was glorious. It was so nice to be riding the motorcycles again. I had missed it. And it was so nice to be out in the countryside again. While I don't like the heat, the landscape is glorious.

The entrance to Xunantunich is one of the treats of the visit: you cross the Mopan River on a hand-cranked ferry! It was really hard to take a photo of ourselves actually on the ferry - by the time you park your bike and turn it off and get your motorcycle gloves off and get your camera and get ready to shoot, the short ride is almost over!

The road from the ferry up to the site is pretty steep and dicey at first, but then it's fine. The walk up to the site from the parking lot is intense - at least it was for me, even with my hiking stick (I could NEVER have done all this hiking without it).

All of the hiking and the intense heat was now getting to my 57 year old self. My feet hurt especially - my boots, I realized, did not fit as well as they should. They were a hand-me-down gift from a neighbor who barely wore them, and since it's really hard for me to get to REI anymore, and I was hurting financially at the time, I took them - free hiking boots! But now, they weren't so great, as my feet swelled from the heat and so much walking. I had decided that, once we were leaving Belize, I would be leaving them behind. I wished I could leave them in Guatemala, where they are needed far, far more than in Beilze. 

But they were doing better than Stefan's boots.

Xunantunich is pronounced shoo-nan-too-nitch. Supposedly, it means "Maiden of the Rock." It's atop a ridge above the Mopan River, well within sight of the Guatemala border. We were afraid it would be a let down after Caracol and Tikal, but the reality is that we just love any Mayan ruin site and are totally inspired by such. The site is beautiful and we loved it. One of its unique features is that it has a beautiful frieze that depicts the birth of a god associated with the royal family, gods of creation, as well as the tree of life (which extends from the underworld, the earth, and the heavens). Once again, we were in an incredibly beautiful, mysterious Mayan city. And once again, it was like seeing one for the first time. Although this time, I did NOT cry. But if you aren't impressed with it, you are dead inside. And all around you, the jungle awaits to take it all back.

The women at the entrance were all too happy to let us store our helmets and jackets with them, and they were genuinely curious when we were done as to how the site compared to Tikal or Caracol. To me, there's no comparing them - each site is so unique. Nothing is built in quite the same way, nothing is laid out in quite the same way. I was actually surprised in that regard, since after I see a few Roman villas and villages, I start to feel like I've seen them all.

The funny moment was seeing a woman wearing a University of Kentucky t-shirt at the site. Of course I had to talk to her and the woman she was with. Turns out they both teach at UK, and the other woman is from Paducah. Nothing like meeting up with Kentuckians at Mayan Ruins in Belize!

We didn't use a guide for Xunantunich or later for Cahal Pech. We weren't trying to be cheap - we just were ready to wander on our own again. But I want to again say that guides are totally worth it for a deeper dive, and a deeper dive can really make a visit all the more special.

Sooner than I would have liked, I had to take a break from walking, so I sat at a picnic table under a thatched roof while Stefan hiked up yet another pyramid. I was so jealous that he was getting to do that. There were two soldiers with machine guns there as well - I don't know if they were there to keep tourists safe from bandits or invading Guatemalans.

Near the top of the site, we found an education center - we weren't sure we were supposed to go in, but we did anyway. I liked its explanation of archeology. Xunantunich also has a small, excellent visitor's center that I highly recommend near the parking lot - it offers some excellent information not just about the site, but about Mayan life and about archeology in general. One of my favorite displays has an excerpt from something written by Thomas Gann in 1924:

At the base of the eastern extremity of the mound stood a plain stela, now fallen and broken into a number of fragments. Upon the largest of these the Indians had erected a small alter consisting of a cedar wood cross with a small heap of stones around it. This little alter stands by the side of the track and each wayfarer who passes places upon it either a stone or a few flowers, saying an “Ave” or “Pater” as he does so. I could not stop reflecting the very similar petitions were made and prayers offered to the dogs before the very stone thirteen centuries ago, while the offerings of fruit and flowers accompanying them were practically identical in both cases.

And I could not stop reflecting that this is something that's done all over the world, that when you see a cross or Christian symbol on a mountain or at the confluence of a road or waterways, it's very likely it was once a pre-Christian sacred site, and people still honor the site with flowers. Or how the site known as Mecca was, before Islam, a sacred site to numerous different religions in the area.

The entrance to Xunantunich has a couple of craft stalls with beautiful things for sale. It's nice that these aren't on the archeological grounds themselves - unlike in Egypt or Jordan, you don't have to worry about someone trying to sell you something inside the site, when you are just coming out of or off a pyramid.

As usual, there's also excellent bathrooms and SUPER FRIENDLY STAFF. Belizean niceness - I was addicted to it.

After cooling off with a cold drink in the shade, we mounted the bikes and headed back to San Ignacio to visit our fourth Mayan site: Cahal Pech. As we drove back through the countryside, I wondered if I would ever see any of this again. I loved it so much. Just before we came to our second police checkpoint, I saw a person, I think a woman, on a large motorcycle, possibly a BMW. She had travel cases and was fully ATGATT - she was CLEARLY an adventure motorcycle traveler, heading to the border with Guatemala, probably intending to stop at Xunantunich first. Damn! She was the only one we saw on the entire trip (we met some recreational touring motorcyclists at the border the day we came back from Tikal, but I wouldn't at all call them ADV riders - they were just reach people from Guatemala going to run around Belize for a weekend). Would loved to have talked to her!

The police checkpoint, thankfully, waved us through without looking at anything.

Stefan had earlier thought we could walk to Cahal Pech from the Midas Resort. I will tell you right now: NO! On a map, yes, it's relatively close to downtown. But it's also almost at the top of an INCREDIBLY steep hill. The street is paved - very happy about that - but it is OH SO STEEP. It took us a long time to even find where we were supposed to go - there is no sign downtown that says, "This way to Cahal Pech!" We had to ask someone. The road is the extremely steep road by the police station, FYI. We headed up that road, with me praying I wouldn't have to stop and being oh so grateful yet again to be on a Honda 150 instead of my KLR, and we went right past the entrance to the left - we didn't see it. At the top of the hill was the lovely Cahal Pech Village Resort. Holy cow, what a VIEW! Had a look at it later online and I have to say, it's standard rooms were surprisingly affordable. If you want something a bit nicer than Midas Resort, but still affordable, I totally recommend this place. Downside: you can't walk to downtown easily. Had to go into the lobby to ask where the heck Cahal Pech was. They were very sweet and explained it.

Back down the hill we went, then a right into the parking lot midway down. It also had a beautiful view. And we were the only ones there for a while, and just a few minutes later, just one or two other small groups showed up.

Cahal Pech was the hilltop home for an elite Maya family. It feels secluded, despite being surrounded by the city of San Ignacio. The name means "Place of the Ticks" in the Yucatec Maya language and was given when the area was used as pasture during the first archaeological studies in the 1950s. We did not get any ticks.

While on the beautiful walkway, we saw a small rodent-like creature, all brown. I think it was an agouti. I don't think it was a paca or a gibnut because those are supposed to be nocturnal. It had been raining a bit, so the walkway was slick in spots, but it was nice that there is one accessible walkway into a Mayan archeological site (but I'm not sure there was something coming up from the parking lot for wheel chairs). We could tell from how high the walkway was off the ground and the way things were landscaped that, when it rains hard, this place has major water runoff. The walkway is lined with gorgeous flowers. 

By the time we got to the actual site, which really wasn't that far at all, I had to sit. I was exhausted. I sent Stefan on into the plaza without me. It wasn't a big site so I wasn't too worried about losing him. I sat there wishing I had better boots and wishing I was 20 years younger and wishing I hadn't regained the 55 pounds I'd lost - this would be a completely different day without those extra 55 pounds. I'm all for body acceptance - but all this weight is hurting me. My knees and feet are failing.

After downing a bottle of water, I rallied and walked into the plaza myself. I was mostly alone and it was nice. I hoped Stefan was also having a nice time. The structures here aren't anywhere as tall as those of the other sites we had been, but the jungle is thick all around, and it had a completely different vibe than any other site we had visited - but, then again, each site is so unique. I eventually found Stefan and even managed to climb up a bit on one of the pyramids, and ended up with this really awesome photo.

We saw enough to be satisfied. It had been a long day. We walked back, spending some extra time at the displays at the entrance because they were quite informative. Unfortunately, I had to witness some cruel animal abuse in the parking lot: the family running the snack shack there were delighting in throwing rocks at two dogs and at one point, the father of the family hit one cowering dog with a stick and the children squealed with laughter as the dog yelped. The dogs stayed around though, and I guess the dogs were "theirs." I was so disgusted and I wanted to scream. I kept trying to think of what to say in Spanish - they were a Spanish-speaking family. I wanted to tell them I was ashamed to see this behavior, that it was disgusting, that I was so thirsty but I would not be buying anything from them, that they were teaching their kids to be assholes, that they are assholes, and on and on. But I didn't. I couldn't think of the words. I also didn't want to be an imperialist colonialist Karen. I started my motorcycle, fighting back tears, and slunk away. Later, I sent a message to the Cayo Animal Welfare Society. They said I should have said something. I don't know. Maybe I should have written the San Ignacio tourist office. I want this family told, at the very least, that they are losing business because they are assholes.

As I said earlier, the dog situation in Belize is not great, but it's not nearly as bad as what I have witnessed in Italy and Romania, the two WORST places for dogs I have ever seen. But the scene in the Cahal Pech parking lot gives you an idea of what visiting those countries can be like.

We went back to the Warrie Head Resort, and at some point - I don't remember if it was before we arrived or after - it started to rain. Really rain. I thought it was beautiful. There is something so romantic and poetic about being in a jungle during a heavy rain. It wasn't dark yet, so we laid in our room, sharing photos online.

We had wanted to go to the North in Belize the next day. Our plan was to book a room near the Mayan site of Lamanai for two nights - we would ride up the next day, spend the night, spend the day in Lamanai and a bit in the North, stay that second night and then head down all the way down to Punta Gorda in the Southern part of the country. It would be an epic ride from North to South. Everyone said it would be boring, but nothing had been boring so far. Along the way, we might stop at the zoo, which is more of a wildlife sanctuary, or the Belize Central Prison Gift Shop in Hattieville, because won't THAT be a unique experience! (never would have known about it if we didn't have Lonely Planet Belize). 

But every hotel in that area was fully booked. Even some pretty far away from Lamanai were full. What was going on? Finally, I asked one of the hotels if something was up, if there was an event happening in the area. And there was: a massive concert by a really famous mariachi band from Mexico. It was such a big deal it was all over the Belizean news - which we had neither read nor seen on TV, because we never looked at a TV the entire time we were in Belize. It not only meant that every hotel was booked solid, but that Lamanai would be covered in crowds of tourists.

So, we hatched a new plan: the next day, we would go South, to Punta Gorda, instead, stay there for two nights, and then do the epic motorcycle ride in reverse, and go all the way to the North from the South.

We walked around the grounds of our hotel during a break in the rain, and I said hi to some horses. We spent the evening in the restaurant, with its sides open to the elements, enjoying the heavy rain, eating our burgers, drinking Belikin, trying to listen in on the conversation of the large group of Mennonites at the next table, talking with the owners, and just genuinely enjoying a great evening.

That night, sometime after 1, I started having gastrointestinal issues. I was so grateful I had not had anything up to that point. I had been so careful, keeping my mouth closed when I showered and brushing my teeth in bottled water. But something had gotten me. I hoped I would be okay to ride the next day. At least I wasn't needing imodium. Yet.

Ride to Punta Gorda & Rain Rain Rain

I was fine to ride. Wasn't feeling 100%, but I now knew that Belize was the land of clean, accessible toilets. I knew I would be okay. I even had breakfast before we left. I knew I needed to eat, and also, I was hungry. 

It was Saturday, February 4. We were in week two of our trip. I couldn't believe all we had seen and experienced so far. Any one of those visits to Mayan ruins, any day we had spent on the motorcycles, any day so far, was a highlight. My brain was overwhelmed at it all.

It's about 250 kilometers / 150 miles from Warie Head Resort to the Sea Front Inn, where I had made reservations with Booking.com. We rode our motorcycles back down the Humminbird Highway, riding through a steady jungle rain. It wasn't an ideal riding experience, but traffic wasn't bad, the roads are fine, and somehow, I didn't mind. It was just part of the adventure. It was our first big rain of the trip. We hadn't brought full rain gear on the trip, just our rain jackets. But we never put them on. We were soaked and we just didn't care. We stopped at a roadside bar/cafe - once again open to all the elements, and once again enjoying just sitting there, drinking our Cokes and listening to the rain and watching the low clouds crawl all along the hills.

Back on the road, we came to the intersection to turn off and head South, eventually passing the turnoff to Hopkins, which felt weird to do. And at some point, with no cars around at all, up ahead of us, I saw a big dark blob reach out a long, hairy arm stretch farther than seemed possible, and behind that large hairy body, a long, long hairy tail snaking behind it. It reminded me of a giant tarantula from a horror movie - it was HUGE. And those arms stretched out SO FAR to get across the road that was lined with jungle bush on either side. It didn't look... right. It wasn't injured, it was moving quickly for something relying so much on its arms, but it was obvious it wasn't where it was supposed to be - it was supposed to be in trees.

It was a howler monkey. It was not coati, as someone tried to tell me - unlike that animal, what I saw was much bigger and was all one dark color, with an arm stretching oh so far out in front of it to pull itself along and with that long tail behind. It was almost alarming to see it moving across the road like that. Why it was down on the ground, I have no idea. Why would it leave a tree?

Loved seeing all the "chicken buses" out and about: colorfully painted, unairconditioned school buses that are the most affordable local transport between towns and villages. I wish Oregon made it that easy to get from small town to small town. We also were seeing more and more homes with thatched roofs. This traditional Belizean-style Mayan house is very common throughout Southern Belize. It's constructed from sustainably harvested materials that grow in the area. I read online that Sapodilla wood is often used for the frame because its a hardwood that is insect resistant. Typical flooring of such a home consists of a plaster made from crushed lime-rock and an aggregate, like river-sand, mixed with water - we had assumed the floors would be dirt. There are organizations you can book with that will take you into such a home, to see how the traditional cooking is done and to give it a try yourself. You can even stay in the home of a Mayan family through such organizations - all easy to find online.

Onward we pushed. I was needing another stop, but of course, we were now in a stretch of road that didn't have any cafes. At last, we came through the town of Bella Vista, but we didn't see a cafe or gas station. We later learned that restaurants are off the main road in this city, on side streets - if you slow down and look at the tiny signs on the side of the road, you can find them. There are a lot of refugees and migrant workers in this area, and a lot of signs in support of them and directing them to resources, which was refreshing to see.

It took another 40 miles before we found a place to stop: Sauce and Ice, a roadside cafe. It's very tidy, modern and, as always, with a very friendly staff: the young woman working told me she had a grandfather that was Scottish. She had questions about the motorcycle, about what it was like to travel, and I was happy to talk with her. In fact, I was ready to throw her on and take her away so she could see too.

The ride from Hopkins to Bella Vista had been rather boring: very flat, not much to see. It's how someone who didn't think I should come to Belize had described all of Belize. I was so glad we hadn't been on this road on the first part of our trip. But after Bella Vista, distant mountains appeared, and the road got much more interesting - no big hills or substantial curves, but it was absolutely straight and we were passing some interesting landscape.

We came through Dump - yes, really, that's the name of the town. We were starting to see more and more houses and settlements. We passed a sign for the Confederate Cemetery, which I flipped off - f*cking traitors, damn you to hell - and also a sign welcoming us to the "East Indian Corridor," which I most certainly did NOT flip off. I can find no reference to this online at all, BTW. We also passed an inordinate number of Christian compounds: large churches, retreats, "centers", camps, and on and on. There are a lot of outsiders trying to win the souls of the people of Belize. I'm not sure I like that.

FYI, the Confederate traitors were in Belize because the governor of what was then British Honduras and other officials were eager to recruit these southerners for their cotton and sugar cultivation expertise - but the British also recruited the defeated, humiliated Confederates in an effort to increase the number of white settlers in the area, and the British colonial Lieutenant Governor of the time hoped the Confederates would assist the British colonizers in dealing with rising tensions involving the Maya. In addition, just like in the post-Civil War South, creole laborers were paid with a credit system rather than with wages, and therefore frequently remained indebted to their British employers, perpetuating a state of semi-slavery in the British colony that continued well into the early twentieth century - it was a system the Confederates knew and loved well, given that it was so similar in the Southern states of the USA after the war. Here's more on this distasteful subject.
 
My favorite thing seen that day: a small cafe right next to a speed bump and it was called the Speed Bump Deli. There are a LOT of speed bumps in Belize.

After a tight curve, we were suddenly riding on a crappy, pothole-filled road next to the sea, and we quickly came to the Sea Front Inn. It's a well-worn place that has probably seen much better days and is, like, five stories tall. I was worried we would be on the fifth floor, but not to worry - we were on the FOURTH. The manager was super nice, had us park our bikes in a place under the outside steps and had his "concierge" take our stuff up to the room.

Here how I reviewed the Sea Front Inn on Trip Advisor. Having walked around Punta Gorda, I think it was the best hotel in the area, for the price.

A clean, well-worn hotel with a very friendly owner and night manager and scenic views of the ocean from the balcony outside the restaurant or the small balcony on the top floor. We were on the fourth floor, which is QUITE a schlep, but our room was clean, the bed was very comfortable, the AC, shower and toilet all worked great. Not sure I would have liked it when the restaurant/bar was open - it's right there under the rooms and would probably be loud - but it's closed, sadly, because of the pandemic. But it means that, at night, you can go buy some beer and sit out on that beautiful, empty terrace and watch the moon on the water. Our room's bathroom got a bit ripe after 24 hours - something in the plumbing that may be just for this hotel or all over Punta Gorda. You will therefore want to have it cleaned daily (and the cleaning staff is super nice). Easy walk into downtown for food and provisions. No drinking water provided on the fourth floor, so make sure you buy some for your room. The owner let us park our motorcycles under the stairs and they were usually hidden by a car parked in front - it felt very safe and secure. We walked throughout downtown and this seems to be the best place to stay in Punta Gorda, which has definitely seen better days. But it was the quiet respite we needed during our two weeks in Belize.

I am so sorry that the business was hit so hard by the pandemic, so much so that the restaurant remains closed. The restaurant looks like a place that would be a lot of fun when it's open. But I can't lie: I was SO glad it was closed. Because there would have been music playing long into the night, and there would have been NO sleep for Jayne. And it sounds like it could even get rowdy in the rooms sometimes. Plus, I had the restaurant veranda and view all to myself.

We took a break, then went for a walk through Punta Gorda. It was Saturday night, and it felt sad and very run down. The few people we saw were... well, they were drunk. Otherwise, the pot-hole-filled streets were empty. The only other hotel we saw looked sketchy and possibly, permanently closed. Every restaurant looked permanently closed. We ended up going back to the hotel, to the little restaurant next door, and had a mediocre meal while listening to three very drunk guys trying to show off for two women who were having none of it.

I had wanted to take the day off in Punta Gorda. I had wanted to walk around, get to know the town, find a cafe on the water front to sit in, drink smoothies and write notes for my travelogue. That was not going to happen here. I posted to Facebook that I was in a "really sad town." It was the first time I had ever been to an ocean front town that wasn't bustling. I just couldn't get over how run down it was. It seemed to be on its last leg.

I decided after a lot of thinking that I was going to stay in town anyway, while Stefan went on his own tours of Nim Li Punit and Altun Ha, two small Mayan ruin sites in the area. I was going to the bathroom a lot, my stomach didn't feel great, so I just wanted to nap and to sit on the balcony outside the closed restaurant with some coca cola and digestives and look at the ocean and write travel notes. The next day, we walked into town to try to find a breakfast, and found one at J J's Kitchen, part of the Saint Charles Hotel. And it was a very nice breakfast, in fact. I LOVE all the watermelon and watermelon juice I can get in the area!

We walked a bit more through town and found ourselves having a much more positive image of it than the night before. Yes, it was run down, but it was far from abandoned. Yes, a lot is permanently closed, but there are things that are still open and busy. We stopped at a grocery - yes, run by Chinese people - and then went back to the hotel and up up up the steps to our room. We said goodbye and Stefan went on his way.

And we both spent the day exactly as we wanted.

I love writing my travel notes every two or three days. It helps me reflect on what I've seen, helps me remember everything for later, and gives me down time that I really need. I like sitting somewhere that has a nice view as a write, though I've also done it in a hotel room as it pours down rain outside. This day was a day my brain needed. But as you know, those notes are long gone and I didn't have them to write this. I wonder what I am missing, what I have forever forgotten...

Belize has a LOT of motorcycles. So, so many. They are a key method of transportation. I was surprised when, sitting out on the patio, I heard a motorcycle and, even though I'd heard motorcycles all day, I knew it was Stefan. I stood up and here he came - and there he went, right past the hotel. He wanted to take a quick tour of the town in the daylight. Eventually, he was back, and told me about the sites he'd visited.

We saw another dog I wanted to take home, a dog that looked like it could have been related to my sweet Lucinda. Once again, checked the web site about bringing dogs from Belize, once again, thought about what it would mean to do that...

We had now realized that the Lonely Planet Belize book had been written before the pandemic. It's still mostly accurate for Hopkins and San Ignacio, but I'd say more than half of it is outdated for Punta Gorda. I don't know when or if all these places will "come back." But I will say that, unlike my feelings the first night, I DO think it's worth it to go there, if you have the time. I saw a different side of Belize, and I'm glad I saw it. There are still outfitters there - people you can book for fishing, diving and snorkeling. Just be sure to book in advance.

We walked around town again a bit, wondering just how many cities are like this all over the world, still hurting from the pandemic. There is a shop for arts and crafts created by Mayan women, but it had been closed this day, Sunday, and we would be leaving tomorrow early, so I wouldn't get to see it. I was still really wanting something that represented a jaguar.

The moon was rising over the sea and it was ridiculously beautiful.

We stopped at a restaurant that, under a different name, was recommended in my guide book. It used to be Joycelyn's. Now it is Fi Wii Food. It's right on the water, and we picked a spot where I could look at that gorgeous full moon over the ocean. We ordered jerk chicken from the very cannabis-flavored waiter. It turned out to be the best meal I had in all of Belize. It was ridiculously good. It was mind-blowing. It went down with Belikin beer in the very best of ways. Lawdy, let's stay in Punta Gorda!

We walked again through town a bit, stopped at the grocery for some Belikin beer and local chocolate (which is as good as all the hype says) and then went back to the hotel to enjoy looking at the moonlight on the water from the balcony of the restaurant. It had turned out to be so much of a better day than I had ever expected 24 hours before. I now kind of liked Punta Gorda. But that happens a lot when we travel. There have been so many times when I have thought, welp, that's it, the next two days are ruined because we booked the "wrong" hotel or because such-and-such is closed or it's raining or whatever - and then we end up having a lovely time, just a different time, than what we had thought. I need to carry that into my non-travel life.

Four more full days in Belize. Onward to Lamenai the next day. Right?


Part 6, the final chapter: Back North for a Breakdown, Zip Lining, More Wildlife, & the End of the Adventure.


You can see my favorite photos from our trip here (there are about 500 and most are taken by me or feature ME). You can see Stefan's favorite photos from the trip here (there are about 800 and most are taken by him or feature him).

Return to the main page for our Belize and Guatemala 2023 Adventure.  

 
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