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A man of many words. Profane, profound, loyal to a fault and a right rat bastard. I love the finer things in life: expensive cigars, cheap women and all the salted, cured meats I can eat. A friend to dogs, lover of humanity and despiser of people. If I were King the world would be a better place, because, well...I would be King! Oh, and I like ice cream.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Belize City to Caye Caulker

The staff at the Embassy were friendly evangelical types. Religious tracts were prominent in the office. They even had a chapel off the office. Mick and the proprietors were on a first name basis.

We slept late and dicked around most of the morning deciding what to do. Yesterday was a hard push day. Jason and I needed some decompression time. After hitting a nearby internet cafe the group elected to grab a cab into town to scope the Caye (Kee) Caulker ferry schedule. We should have just checked out and gone, but we were idiots. The lessons learned earlt though would serve us well later in the trip.

We hopped into an airport cab. The guy quoted a USD $25 fee for the five minute ride. We were out of the cab before he finished the sentence. "But that's the standard price," he said. And indeed there was an official sign quoting the $25 fee. Well, this was not New York City and BS is BS no matter where you are. There had to be a cheaper way. There was. Sort of.

The Embassy's owner told us to wait a few minutes and he'd take us out to a taxi stand on a nearby highway. "Shouldn't cost you more than a dollar," he promised. We felt much better.

Meanwhile into the office comes a guy who was taking his friend into town. "You guys need a ride?" Oh yeah, free ride! This just keeps getting better.

So we get to downtown Belize City and Jason offers him ten Belize Dollars (About $US)
for his troubles. "Ten bucks!?," he exclaimed. "I need at least 20." So much for THAT good Samaritan.

We grabbed lunch and hopped the ferry for the 30 minute ride to Caye Caulker.

We spent a night there enjoying the World Cup and the ambiance. The one word that best describes Caye Caulker is laid back. The Rasta ethic is overwhelming and it didn't take long to get tired of that. I don't care for Reggae. It's like Reggaetone. They only have one song and just change the words a little.

Jason decided to stay behind a few days. On the ferry over he ran into one of his old friends whose sister lived on Caulker. We planned to hook back up in San Pedro Sula, Honduras in a few days. Mick and I were off to see the Mayan cities of Tikal and Copan.

One thing I was finding out, the road was always calling.

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