The 27 Degrees of Christmas Eve

While the sun beats down on the uneven pavement, we walked across the road. Looking both ways to ensure that we were not run over by the abundance of golf carts scurrying everywhere in our path. It was already 27 degrees on Christmas Eve, and we had only been up a couple of hours. The cantina ahead of us was well-known for its “Johnny cakes”- a Belizean/ Carribean specialty for breakfast that many of the locals eat. Think of scones or biscuits, and you will not be far off.

As we sat under the canopy of our roadside diner, it seems that the bar never closed. A few gentlemen were having a couple of beverages and watching football- before the clock strikes nine. The young woman calls Jon! Awww yes, my food was ready, and so was that of my two travelling companions. My son, of 18 years going on 35 and my favourite travel companion Tatyana, I am going to call her my wife, which may not be popular today. Although we are not a particularly religious group, the non-denominational minister did say, “do you take this woman to be your lawfully married wife.” Since then, the moniker has stuck. I believe she refers to me as her husband, although I have not heard it very often recently.

Golf cart with no clubs

I digress. Sitting and eating and waiting for our golf cart to arrive, we began to plot our day. We would hit a few tourist spots, do some shopping and then the beach. Similar to other days’ past. However, this one was slightly different. Today was Christmas Eve, and we were thousands of kilometres from the location that we had spent the holidays many times previously. Yes, we decided to spend the Holiday season abroad. In Ambergris Caye in Belize Central America. 

If it does not sound familiar, it is an island off the coast of Belize. Apparently, this “Caye” was made famous by either a reference or title to it in a Madonna song. I have to admit this was all news to me. 

Braking it to your family. Run

If you have never spent the holidays away from home with your family, this in itself can be very traumatic. People always seem to be very demanding of your time during this part of the calendar. Depending on how tightly-knit your family is, the stitching of this web can become laden with knots. All you can do here is to show some compassion, try not to succumb to guilt and get the hell “out of dodge” before anyone knows you have gone. What is that old saying: “It is better to beg for forgiveness rather than ask for permission.” Don’t worry; they will get over it- hopefully. Bring them back a gift that always seems to quench the hostilities.

But Why?

Holidays abroad are an ideal way to reconnect with your family and at the same time, experience and create memories that you will be able to share for years to come. Our golf cart finally arrived. Here in San Pedro, the main town here. The golf cart is the preferred method of transportation. We did not fully realize how necessary this would be, so we – me were a little tardy in procuring our chariot. Doing so, we probably paid too much for the rental, but this is just one of the prices of procrastination.

No Power Golf Carts

Checking our shoulder and backing up into the hotly contested Belizean golf cart traffic, your co-pilot needs to give you a “go.” Without hesitation, you through your cart into the main thoroughfare, hoping to avoid any collisions from beyond the blind corner. No worries. We are on our way. Protected by the canopy of the cart, it did not take long to get a hang for the non-power steering. Soon, we were at a local crafts market to purchase a few trinkets that we could exchange as presents while here. We did bring one gift for each of us to open from the North for Christmas day, as this is one of our traditions.

Christmas Market Shopping

Although we had passed this outdoor market previously, today, this small square of tarp-covered stalls was extremely busy with locals and tourists alike- mostly tourists. As we wander to look at and purchase items, you could sense that the usually quiet group of merchants were also anticipating the evening festivities. The salesperson assured me that they were made by the local artisans. Not in China- I still over paid. Happily, we made it back to our golf cart and made our way to the nearest cantina. To quench one’s thirst.

Always Hydrate

Although it was barely afternoon, the idea of a beer or juice became a topic of discussion. In this matter, I won, we all sat down under a large palapa covered bar cantilevered out over an expanse of water where pelicans waded, and fishermen came in with their daily catch- this explains the pelicans. It was all very idyllic. The beautiful blues skies, warm Caribbean breeze, and under a canopy to avoid the sun. While watching the locals go about their daily routines on the eve of Christmas. As peaceful and tranquil as this was, we had another afternoon sight still on our loosely created agenda yet to discover. After topping up the golf cart, it was time to find the “Secret beach.”

Toll Bridge, here?

We were aware that this would necessitate some driving, but it was early in the afternoon. Ambergris Caye is tiny. No more than 40.2 KM (25 miles) long and 1.6 KM (1mile) wide at its widest point. We are from Canada, where you drive 10 km to get to your nearest Tim Horton’s. Heading north towards the Mexican border, on the northern side of San Pedro, you encounter a small bridge that separates the North and South of Ambergris Caye. It is not much of a bridge; it looks more like a Roman arch from a distance. As you get closer, you noticed that the roughly created two-lane road is narrowed down to a single lane both ways, allowing for only a narrow roadway and pedestrian traffic. To the side there is a Government official, yes you guessed it a toll bridge. One U.S. Dollar later, and you were on the desolate yet soon to be cultivated land, to be used by massive hotel changes. Did I say soon to be? F.Y.I. They only initiate the toll during the day. In the evenings it is free.

To The Secret Beach

The roads in this area are of inferior condition and become dramatically worse as you move further north. The plan was to go the “Secret beach,” head back to the hotel, dress and head out for reservation for dinner. 

I need to add, and here is as good as spot as any; restaurants in this area, especially the upscales ones, will charge in U.S. dollars specifically as opposed to offer the opportunity to use Belizean dollars. The prices are marked like you are used to seeing in them in Belizean dollars, but the actual currency is in USD…Making some of these restaurants tremendously expensive. I am still paying off one dinner for three. I left an organ as co lateral…I wouldn’t order the kidneys.

The Holiday Bounce

From beyond the toll bridge, our progress slowed because of the road conditions. Pothole depressed roads some filled with water while others were dried-up wells. Either way, it was slow and driving our intrepid golf cart took a great deal of concentration. The sun beat down, and my thirst started to grow. Fortunately, I brought a few “travellers” at our last stop. I handed the keys to Maxwell – our son. I sat like golf clubs in the back of the cart, enjoying my cerveza as Max avoided the potholes like a steel ball bearing in a pinball in a machine, me I was holding on like a bumper trying not to spill my beverage. At which I was a failure.

Between being tossed around and spilling beer on myself, you could not help but be inspired by the surrounding scenery. While the sun reflected off of the blue saltwater  rivers and bays, you could hear the rustling of the mangroves as they whistled under the hot Carribean sun. Crossing bridge after bridge, submerging the wheels of the cart more than once in the water ensconced potholes and always on the lookout for crocodiles, we viewed the first indication that we were heading in the right direction. Did I mention that we were using a hand-drawn map given to us by our concierge earlier that morning? No grand illustrious Michelin diagram for us. Onward with our adventure. The ink on the piece of paper was starting to run from the sweat from my wife’s hand. “Secret beach” 5 km…

I can almost smell the sea.

Was it only five more or five more, I can’t remember. But there was no turning back now, so we trudged on. Happy that I topped up the tank before leaving San Pedro. Off to the right, I spied a crocodile basking on the shore beside the mangroves. We stopped to take a look. It barely noticed us if it did at all. I must have been four feet from head snout to tail and was far enough away that no hasty escape would be necessary. Slowly the pavement levelled out and became closer to the more thought of designation of a road. The bouncing began to decrease, as the speed increased. Secret beach 2 K.M.

The Secret Beach?

These kilometres disappeared the way they were supposed too, in a reasonably straight line. “Welcome to Secret Beach,” the sign read. “Parking this way,” it seems that the “Secret Beach” was not a very well kept secret. Originally it was a place for the locals to come and relax before even the tourists arrived. But now the “not so” secret beach became a haven for the entrepreneurial spirit. Do not get me wrong. Not some tourist theme park created to wrangle your hard-earned money out of your hands. The people from Disney were not in sight. The entrepreneurial spirit Belizian style. Parking was free, that is very unDisney right there. 

Looking much like a golf and country club parking lot as the carts seem to form a never-ending sea of white and green. Half delirious from the drink and sun, I was expecting someone to call my tee time. Bringing our few meagre belongings with us, towels and bathing suits, hats, sunblock, and currency. You can’t lock anything in a golf cart, so if you want to keep it, take it with you. Regaining our walking legs, we sauntered over the hot sand and headed in the direction of the music. The secret beach was well known after all. 

Paradise is Right here

Gazing out at the less than 2km of the beach, I was surprised at how small it was. Quality should never be judged by size. The Caribbean’s answer to Mediterranean shores and spring break combined. The cabana lounge chairs were placed strategically under the cabanas — each group loosely associated with the larger cabana restaurant bar. The beach had three of these, and unlike the Mediterranean, there was no service for the usage of these perfectly poised pieces of luxury. I have to mention no charge as long as you were buying food and drink. But who wasn’t doing that? It was lunchtime, 27 degrees, Christmas eve and we are on a beach. I will take two of whatever she is having.

Yes, the beach was populated but not particularly crowded- it seems that there was plenty of space for everyone. Getting up from the lounger sporadically and wading into the sea, the water was warm and clear, with many small fish swimming around under the pier. Not deep and refreshing, you could wade out into the water for what seemed like an eternity. Then I would begin to have my “jaws” flashbacks and make my way back on the beach and meet the friendly confines of my lounge chair, lobster sandwich, and another umbrella surrounded by a tasty rum concoction. The secret beach has something for everyone.

So Long and thanks for the lobster and Rum

 Although I did mention a “spring break” earlier, that was my initial feeling. The reality is that children are playing in the sand, hard bodies, both male and female are doing what hardbodies do- drenching themselves in their youth, and occasionally practicing safe sun. People like Tanya and myself, remembering what it’s was like to be a hardbody, before discovering lobster rolls and rum libations. While the older people covered themselves up from overexposure to the sun, young and old, and people of all races just living there lives and having fun. A pattern started to develop. Dip, Dry, Lounge, Libation, and Lobster and repeat. I will tell you now and listen carefully. If you want to establish a habit, I would strongly suggest this one. Then like Thor’s hammer coming down on us, I was reminded that our day did not end here, and it was time to pack up and make our way back to a golf cart for the long bumpy ride back to San Pedro. As we drove away, I peered back, and I felt a trickle of sweat ran down my cheek.

The Relaxing Holiday Drive

Bump after bumps, swerve after swerve. It seemed to get dark very quickly. In this part of the world, the sun sets early and darkness arrives very immanently. It was too early in the day for that. One drop fell, followed by another. The other drops must have called on some friends as now we were in the middle of a tropical depression. The golf cart did have a hard awning type roof and windscreen, but this was only helpful if you were driving into the storm. We were driving west, and the wind was coming from the North. A barren road, except for the odd crocodile and the toll bridge to San Pedro, was nowhere in sight. Fortunately, there is only one road, so all we need to do was retrace our steps. The rain is blowing in from all directions, trying to avoid and determine which of the potholes have the least amount of depth as they have now filled with water. Sometimes laughter is the only cure, and I knew there was a reason why I had those cocktails on the beach. The road slowly became drivable; the shoulders were paved, with buildings surrounding them. We had left the last crocodile behind. On the horizon, the bridge to San Pedro. Anyone have a dollar.

San Pedro on The Isla Bonita

The black tarmac glistened with the rainbow colours of oil as the rain relentlessly battered both it and us. Surprisingly, the roads were still busy with traffic as residents were still trying to place the finishing touches on there holiday evening. The”traffic” was slow. Some of the landmarks were beginning to look familiar — the small wooded churched bathed in white paint, the giant Christmas tree in the square. The restaurant from last evening’s dinner, the market from earlier in the day, and finally the blind corner from where we picked up the now soaking container that we once called a golf cart — parked and gathered our belongings. Crossed the street where the concierge said good afternoon and I could not help but notice a smirk across his lips. As we looked like drowned rats.

The Sunbreeze Hotel Belize

As we entered the courtyard, the puddles were well established in the flower pots and into the foliage that adorned the yard. As the water level rose, it began to cascade itself on to the mosaic-tiled area that separated the courtyard from the residential space. There was no need for concern; in this region of the world, the rains come quickly and usually disappeared equally as fast. There was still time before our dinner reservation. Someone took a shower while someone else watched T.V., and if that did not occupy enough of your time watching the rain poured down into the courtyard was another form of passive entertainment.

With increased ferocity, the precipitation fell with more significant quantities. The hotel staff that had smirked earlier, their expression had now turned to concern. The courtyard by this time was now looking more like a sandy swimming pool as opposed to a tropical haven for plants and hummingbirds. Many young men and women with mops in hand were in the process of keeping the deluge at bay.

Biblical Proportions

We were taking our cue from the hotel staff, obviously much more self-centred- would our reservation be held, or if the restaurant would even be open. Being Christmas Eve, we made a reservation at one of the more upscale establishments. We asked the concierge to confirm our plans; the question was inevitably answered. Being an outdoor, rooftop location, they could not stay open due to the rain and hurricane-like winds. Even if it were open, we would need to drive there in our golf cart parked outside that now resembled a fishbowl filled with water. With no place to dine on Christmas eve, thousands of kilometres from home. 

Me Worry, I have a great Team

There was no real reason for concern. There was a restaurant at the hotel, and we would see if we could get “a seating” there. It was now 730 pm, Tanya made her way across the soggy sand that was once a lush tropical paradise to enquire about an evening seating, Alas nothing. After calling around, everything was either closed or full. Ironic really, that on an evening that is celebrated for not having anyway place to stay, we found ourselves in a similar situation with no place to eat and no guiding light. Stranded, impeccably dressed and hungry. All other options extinguished, we had only one opportunity left.

Going back to the hotel restaurant- the only one they had, we asked for the menu, most items were either sold out. Either way, there we a few tasty morsels left, and the maitre’d was very accommodating under the circumstances. The hotel was short-staffed that day, we waited patiently in the gift shop as patrons with reservations passed and looked at us in bewilderment. Why are these three very well dressed people waiting in a gift shop?

The aroma was tantalizing. Finally, we were able to get a covered tray with the dishes we had ordered. Carefully walking the perimeter of the wet hotel tiled floors, we made it back to our room. With only one table, and two chairs eating inside the room together was impossible. Pulling out the counter onto our courtyard patio area- which was incredibly still dry, we borrowed a lawn chair. We began to gorge ourselves in our own “manger” and toasted our luck with some Beliken beer and bottled water. Consuming the last bites, we returned the tray. Huddling around our laptop computer to watch Alistar Sim in a “Christmas Carol” (another of our traditions) as the rain continued to dance upon the ground. I can still hear the enchanting words of Tiny Tim: “God bless us, everyone,” as the film and the rain came to an end.

These memories will live long after the newest iPhone as ceased to be even a memory for the recycling bin. You may have disappointed uncle Stephen and aunty Kate as you didn’t spend the holidays with them. Sometimes you have to live in the now and feel that what you are doing is the best. I know that for us, we did the right thing. Nothing a bottle of duty-free Rum can’t solve.
Let me know if you have been to Belize over the holiday season and what was your experience? Share a memory as I am sure all of the readers would enjoy hearing your story. Have you taken the family abroad over the holidays? What was your experience? The comment area below is available for your anecdotes, thoughts, etcetera. Are you considering doing a holiday away from your home this year or soon? Do you have any questions please do not hesitate to ask and perhaps I can put your mind at ease.

Happy Holidays, and as “the Tim Man,” said: “God bless you everyone” Yes, Atheists too.

May this find you well.
Your Vacation, Your escape.

VTE