|
Top 10
tourist attractions in Belize |
Resources
• The Great Blue
Hole at Lighthouse Reef, Ambergris Caye >
ambergriscaye.com
• Cockscomb Basin
Wildlife Preserve, Dangriga, Stann Creek,
Belize
• Belize Zoo,
Belize City, Belize District, Belize >
belizezoo.org
• Hol Chan Marine
Reserve, San Pedro, Ambergris Caye, Belize >
holchanbelize.org
• Barton Creek Cave,
San Ignacio, Cayo, Belize
• Cave Tubing In
Belize, Belize City, Belize District, Belize >
cave-tubing.com
• Cahal Pech Mayan
Ruins & Museum, San Ignacio, Cayo, Belize
• Lamanai
Archaeological Reserve, Orange Walk, Belize
• Mountain Pine
Ridge Forest Reserve, San Ignacio, Cayo,
Belize
• Amigos Del Mar
Scuba Diving, San Pedro, Ambergris Caye,
Belize Cayesa
P.S.: This website (eyewitness-travel-guide.com)
provides;
World
travel destinations & top ten tourist attractions interactive
photo
gallery.
You may want to explore later > if so
you can
add this website to your favorites!..
Belize Cayes - A World Away From Reality
Author:
Simon Hillier
As the
engine roar melted to a kitten purr and our boat nuzzled up to the
Caye Caulker pier, we did a quick inventory check. Dancing palms,
tick. Sun bleached beach, tick. Island motto, "Go Slow", painted
lazily on a signpost stuck in the sand, tick. I gave my partner in
crime a private smile. This was the place. We'd escaped...for now.
Bobbing up and down against a tiny Belizean island on the Caribbean
Sea wasn't in the original script. The plan had been to fly into
Belize for a quick taste of eco-adventure before slipping over the
Guatemalan border. But we'd got greedy, and four days later, we were
still there with our hands caught in the action jar. Jungle hikes,
eco-tours, Jaguar spotting, cave tubing, Mayan ruins and mountain
bike treks. Where would it end? The equatorial heat was on. We'd
needed a place to lay low for a couple of days. Somewhere a man
could find a secluded beach and lie back and think of England, or
anywhere else he'd rather not be. After making a few discreet
inquiries we knew there was only one place to hide, and only one man
powerful enough to help us get there. The man known only as, "The
Marine Terminal ticket booth guy". So we paid for our boat passes in
small, unmarked bills, jumped aboard the first vessel bound for the
islands, and left the spoils of mainland adventure in our wake. Not
that the warm blue coastal waters were fooling us. Home to more than
one hundred and seventy islands, or cayes, and the world's second
largest barrier reef, it wouldn't be easy to keep our hands off a
bounty of aquatic fun that has tempted travellers since Blackbeard
and his Buccaneer posse cruised these waters back in the 1600's.
Yet, as we stood on this unassuming wharf and watched our getaway
vessel pull out of dock, the captain turned to us with some
re-assuring words of advice, "Relax mon. You're on Caye Caulker time
now".
If Gilligan had ever taken up real estate development, Caye Caulker
town would have been his Big Apple. Dozing peacefully on this slip
of an island, the cluster of brightly painted ramshackle beach
hideaways, deserted beach lots, scattered fishing boats, palm trees,
sand floor restaurants, dive huts, and salty old sailors propping up
bars at 11am in the morning, makes for the perfect getaway haven.
The jewels in Caye Caulker's crown are it minimalist pleasures. No
international resorts, flashy nightclubs, or peak hour traffic.
Remember the motto? Go slow. Our mission, and yes we did choose to
accept it, was to find a bungalow for as little as forty dollars per
night on a quiet stretch of squeaky white sand, treat our palates to
an array of seafood delights, and then debrief over a drink at a
beach bar watching the sun slip beneath a sheet of Caribbean blue
sea. This message will self-indulge in five seconds.
Before long, we'd slipped into the "no shoes, no shirt, no problem"
and "sarong, swimsuit, smile" dress code, and immersed ourselves
amongst the welcoming band of eclectic castaways. It soon became
clear that the local brew of Creoles, Central Americans, and
Europeans posed little threat to our relaxation plans. However, we'd
have to keep tabs on the North American retirees swerving along the
streets in rickety old golf carts, sending dogs, children and
loitering tourists running for cover.
For three perfect days we hid behind sunglasses, cocktail umbrellas
and lobster menus, wondering if maybe, just maybe, there would be no
more calls to action, and life really was a beach after all. Then
one night, whilst minding our own business over a couple of tall
Panty Rippers at Popeye's Bar and Restaurant, the bartender told us
a man had been in asking questions. "Did he know anyone who might
like to explore the reef?" "Had he seen any tourists dance so badly
to the reggae band they couldn't possibly show their faces around
the island?" The next morning, we went to see a man about a
snorkelling tour.
Whilst experienced divers prefer the more exciting sites in the
waters off Caye Ambergris, the beautiful calm reefs of Caye Caulker
offered the ideal setting for first timer submariners like my
nervous companion, a Canadian mountain girl, much more at ease in a
set of ski's than a pair of flippers.
After the initial disappointment of learning that this wasn't my
chance to wear a tight rubber body suit in public, the reef
snorkelling trip turned out to be a fantastic experience. We goggled
and gawked at the amazing array of fish, eels, and spectacular coral
formations. The highlight of the three-hour tour was Shark Ray
Alley, where Nurse sharks circled our wary group from a distance
before weaving in for a closer look, and the Southern Ray stingrays
slid their expansive wings over our bodies. Both proved to be fairly
harmless, if perhaps a little fresh for a first date. For the rest
of the day hardly a word was spoken. Mountain girl and I adjourned
to our secluded patch of waterfront paradise, soaked up the
afternoon sun, and flipped through back issues of Mexican celebrity
gossip magazines found discarded in our room - anything to keep our
minds off the fact that our days of sloth were numbered. Back at the
bungalow we hatched our plan. We were not giving up our life of
leisure that easily. We would go down partying. Caye Ambergris
awaited and I had a birthday to celebrate.
As the largest, most developed, and most expensive of the Belizean
islands, Caye Ambergris caters well for the first class holiday
seeker, with a range of villas, luxury home stays and resorts to
choose from. To prepare for our last stand, we checked into the
mysteriously named Sun Breeze Beach Hotel, close to the main town of
San Pedro, for some pampering and creature comforts. The spacious
rooms, resort style swimming pool, Jacuzzi, massage studio, swanky
outdoor bar, and international flavoured restaurant were a world
away from the Gilliganism's of Caye Caulker, but at only USD125 a
night, my inner Thurston Howell the third was calling.
Pandered, pleasured, and fed in ways that only money can buy, we
climbed to the lookout over the hotel bar. Slipping in the hammock,
we witnessed one of the most beautiful sunsets the Caribbean has to
offer. Swinging back and forth with a birthday cocktail in hand, I
could truly appreciate how delightfully far we were from anything
resembling an office cubicle. Contemplation over, I made my final
charge into the night. Crazy Canucks Bar, crazy Canadian in tow, we
drank, laughed and danced embarrassingly to reggae music until
sunrise.
The following days we gorged on water sports as fast as Caye
Ambergris could dish them up. There was diving amongst some of the
world's most beautiful coral reefs, sailing tours around the island,
deep-sea fishing for sailfish and barracuda, jet skiing and
paragliding off the sun-tickled beaches. Oh how we feasted!
Our hunger for aqua adventure finally satiated, we wandered into
town, plonked our behinds on the nearest bikes for rent, and peddled
to the far reaches of the island. Crossing a small river by
man-pulling-rope-very-hard-powered ferry to the less populated north
island, we cycled along remote dirt tracks lined with sweeping palm
trees, as memories of my days as a BMX bandit came flooding back.
Emerging from the bush onto the beach at the edge of the lapping
blue Caribbean, it was a leisurely ride along long stretches of
white squeaky sand to the "money" end of town.
The north beach plays host to luxurious resort bungalows and private
beach villas. I pondered ambitiously over the For Sale sign standing
outside one particularly hedonistic abode. Apparently, the former
owner wasn't happy about motoring his 80ft cruiser around all that
coral nonsense to moor outside his beach palace. Being the
entrepreneurial type, he'd used a few sticks of dynamite to blast a
neat little driveway straight through the reef. Unfortunately, the
government didn't see it that way and sent him a fine big enough to
clear the Belize national debt. He was last seen paddling a canoe in
the direction of Cuba.
A little further along we stumbled across Captain Morgan's Retreat,
setting of the original Temptation Island show. As we stood outside
the Mecca of televised drama, so many touching memories came
flooding back. Amber and Troy whispering under a palm tree, probably
discussing the effects of global warming. Shawana ditching Gary and
confessing to Chad 'you had me at "are those things real?"' At that
moment, I couldn't help but appreciate the truly important things in
life. I turned to the ski bunny and told her she had a smile so
beautiful it could almost pass as cosmetically enhanced.
Peddling across the beach towards town for the last time before
heading back to the mainland, we waved goodbye to all the things we
loved about the cayes. The lazy palm trees, the ivory white sands,
the aqua blue waters, the hammocks swinging in the breeze, the
friendly faces, the plastic whale and dolphin fountain splashing
water over Jesus outside the pink Jehovah's Witness mansion...the
what? Anyway, for a couple of repeat adventure travel offenders, it
sure made a nice place for a day pass or two.
Some have said I spend too much time living in a fantasy world, that
I need to get a grip on reality. Sometimes I think they're right.
But then again, they've probably never been to the Belizean cayes.
About the
Author:
Simon
Hillier is a freelance writer based in Sydney, Australia. His
company, Get There, provides copywriting, travel writing, feature
articles, scripts and ebooks that leap out of the mundane masses to
do cartwheels for your audience. For more articles and further
information visit http://www.getthere.com.au
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