Belize vs. Belize
Trip Start
Dec 31, 2007
1
4
12
Trip End
Jan 15, 2008
Orange Walk,
Belize
Friday, January 4, 2008
In Belize, we stopped at Big Daddy's for breakfast, where I found out about the wonder of fryjacks. Fryjacks, also known variously as Indian fry bread, sopapillas, and beignets in the U.S., are a very common breakfast food in Belize (the country), hence I could get them every single day. That in and of itself raised Belizean cuisine a full letter grade in my estimation.
This breakfast stop was also our first clue as the character of Belize (the city). The diner, on one of the upper floors of what looked like an abandoned warehouse, was actually above government service offices. On our way out, a beggar out front asked Sarah for a cigarette, and when she wouldn't give it to him, he followed us. Down several main streets of Belize for at least a third of a mile he followed us, babbling about AIDS and his father the Prime Minister. He followed us, keeping pace, for so long I got nervous, stopped looking at street signs, and took us into an area he deemed "too dangerous" and wandered off. As soon as we were sure he was truly gone, we stopped to look at the map, found we were on a road with the delightful name of Cemetery Road, and realized we were only about two blocks from the bus station. All through the beggar's harassment, not one person on the sidewalk in broad daylight so much as blinked, and every area we'd passed looked like a slum. Not in the vaguely unfortunate way Central American cities sometimes look, with poor building supplies, trash everywhere, and a distinct lack of zoning, but in a scary bars on every window and door, canals filled with garbage, and convenience stores selling goods through a tiny slot in the window way. We could not wait to leave.
Which, luckily, was very soon, with our bus to Orange Walk leaving immediately (we boarded as soon we dodged the beggar, who'd beat us there). Turns out, about 95% of the buses in Belize are converted school buses, or "chicken buses," as we heard them called. We still have never seen an actual live chicken on one, though.
Other than a thoroughly depressing view of more of Belize City and several police checkpoints on the highway*, we had a fairly unremarkable drive up to Orange Walk. The driver played reggae/garifuna, American pop, and Rihanna, and the sun was coming out by the time we were dropped off. Our hotel was so new it didn't appear on the maps yet, so we had to ask around, but we found it with no real issue. Hotel de la Fuente turned out to be, apart from the construction outside, gorgeous. The outside was pure white, with wrought iron railings and Grecian columns. The room itself had a refrigerator, ironing board, and dolphins etched into the bathroom mirror. In addition, it was really, really clean. About the only thing the hotel was lacking was a restaurant, which was part of what the construction outside was covering.
We took a walk to find the Lamanai Riverside Retreat, which supposedly had one of the best restaurants in town. We got minorly lost, but some little boys on bikes ended up escorting us. Maybe what we chose was a mistake, but the burgers and fries were ghastly. The burger was made of a paper thin layer of chicken and onions, no beef, and the fries were as much grease as potato. The view of the river, the New River, was pretty, but not enough to make up for that meal. The rest of the evening was spent exploring Orange Walk, from the House of Culture at one end to the Shell station at the other. Verdict - Orange Walk is very safe. And very, very dull. I did find a store that only sold cake, so I got a slice of chocolate for supper while Sarah went out to Lee's Chinese Restaurant. (Her meal was not a repeat experience.)
While she was gone, I had more fun than I should've watching MTV and Discovery Health. All of Belize seems to have completely American tv, with a couple local channels thrown in. I haven't gotten any radio stations at all.
One other thing we noticed when we were out was the cemetery. All of the graves seem to be above ground crypts, but we saw several freshly dug graves, so we're not sure if an empty cement box is placed on top afterward, or if family plots build upward.
*The police checkpoints, I found out later, were because that road is used a lot for cocaine smuggling.
