After puffing into San Ignacio, we puffed our way out again 5km north to Bullet Tree Falls, a pleasant little village that lies lazily on the banks of the sparkling emerald Mopan River and just a spit away from Guatemala. It turns out that Marcus and Theo, our very generous CouchSurfing hosts, run the Parrot Nest Lodge. Imagine our giddy glee when we found out that we were to have our very own bungalow, a definitive upgrade from the floor space we were expecting! Vinko had been suppressing a cold and at the first sign of friendly faces and homey comforts he released the floodgates and we spent the next five days taking it easy, getting cruisy with the guests and locals, and generally just getting our shit together. 6 weeks on the road will leave you in a bit of a spin, mind the pun. We also found out that the memory stick containing all the photos of the trip thus far decided to keel over and die on us. So we needed a few days to mourn and drink away the pain of this loss. Trust me folks, I'm more disappointed than you that we don't have any glitzy images to keep you reading this post ;-P
Rio On pools and waterfall at Mountain Pine Ridge
The Croat Haka amidst the natural water park of Rio Pools
Danger mouse through slippery slide waterfalls
Bullet Tree Falls and the surrounding area has so much to offer: multiple winding rivers, lush mountains, deep valleys, caves, Mayan sites, waterfalls, real cheese and whole wheat bread... Marcus - being wildly extroverted and always up for anything and everything - knows all the local hide-outs, which places has happy hour when and you can hardly walk half a block without loud greeting being swapped across the street. We spent mornings at the colourful market trying all the concoctions of fruit wine (carrot wine anyone?!?), happy afternoons floating down the river on tubes, and never-ending evenings downing super cheap cocktails at Meluchi's, a little bar operating from a 12 foot container overlooking the cemetery and blaring with either reggaeton or karaoke (great fun, especially considering the super cheap cocktails). We also got the chance to splash around in the Rio On Pools and Black Rock Falls at the Mountain Pine Ridge Forest Reserve. The myriad of pools and waterfalls are freezing - what were we thinking?!?!?
Black Rock Falls, home of the brave, Tarzan´s playground
Lady in red, just downstream from Black Rock Falls
Marcus and Owen showing off their Carrot and Craboo wines at Parrot Nest Lodge, Bullet Tree Falls
But all is not play for this travelling duo... oh no sir, we also had to visit Chaa Creek Lodge as part of our research. Marcus and Theo are good friends with the owners of Chaa Creek, Mick and Lucy, who came to the property in the late 70s as crusty backpackers who survived on picking beans and taking their produce to the San Ignacio markets in a canoe. So there is hope for us yet! Despite the fact that the lodge was fully booked for Christmas and very busy, Mick carted us around in his little 4WD gold-buggy while doing his rounds and we got to learn so mush about the property and its evolution into the amazing place it is today. The number one thing that we learned at Chaa Creek was the importance of great staff - each person seemed proud of the place and happy to be there, and we felt special because they were so pleased to be of assistance. Spending time at the lodge was inspiring and it ignited us to start pedalling again to go seek our piece of paradise. Good thing too, since the looming hills towards the west was not a motivating thought even on the best of days! Onwards to Guatemala!
Betta is bigga, is greatta! Sign at Rio On Pools, Belize
Speed bump = sleeping policeman, literal is betta in Belize, Cristo Rey Village
Belize has kept us busy! We have met the loveliest people in some beautiful places, and spending time on the internet has not been high on our priority list. We just cruised into San Ignacio in Western Belize, although the term "cruised" is a bit of a stretch of the imagination - we just encountered the first of the hills on this ride and "huffed" is a much more honest representation of our arrival into town! For those in the know, San Ignacio area reminds us a lot of Montville & Maleny in QLD, and Pai in Thailand.
To back-track a little bit: Arriving in blue-green Belize was simple and straight forward, and actually quite a mind-trip. As soon as we got stamped, the music changed from Spanish ballads to Reggae, "Hola!" was bumped out of the way by "Hey Mahn!" and there was no mistaking that we were in Belize. Sugar cane field and sapphire lakes sprang up around us as we rode on one of only three highways in the countries - a roughly tarred, unmarked road that is just wide enough for two cars to drive on. And the mosquitoes! They show up in armies and show no mercy! We veered off into Corozal, which has a bit of a seedy feel but a great little internet cafe, and camped out that night with our two Austrian friends from Bacalar, Stefan and Romana, ready to set off to Sarteneja by boat the next day to avoid riding on the highway.
See Ma - no trees, walls or fences required!
Now, Sarteneja is a little fishing village on the end of the Shipstern Nature Reserve, 60km from the next town of any mention. And that 60km is not an easy ride - it is to date the worst road we've been on. The whole road was rocks the size of potatoes with sharp edges, so no matter where you rode, it was catastrophic. We decided that secondary roads in Belize wasn't going to be worth it. Upside is that we did go past a whole whack (pun intended) of Mennonite settlements, where all the kids passing us on horse-carts looked like brothers and sisters.
Literally THE WORST ROAD EVER - (Little Belize to Orange Walk)
In Orange Walk Town, we did our second tour-activity and took a boat down the New River to the Lamanai Archeological Reserve. The boat ride itself was spectacular - clean blue water, lush vegetation, birds and critters galore and we even had two spider monkeys come on board to grab some bananas. A classic case of Monkey See, Monkey Do: because they are the only two monkeys on the island and they only encounter human tourists, they walk on their hind legs when they come onto the boat. Apparently Lamanai was the only Mayan city in the larger area to flourish during the Late and Post-classic Mayan Period, so its architecture is unique and the culture was much different that many other cities of the time. We got our first sighting and sound-clip from the Howler Monkeys, who happened to have a territorial war going on in the canopy above our heads. Imagine this: you're 8 people in a jungle, age-old ruins around you and it sounds like the banshees of hell are closing in on you. Incredible experience though!
Dos platanos (spider monkey on Lamanai tour)
High Temple at Lamanai, and yes we are at the top there...
We headed down the highway to Crooked Tree Wildlife Sanctuary, where our trip almost ended. Not in a bad way - we stayed for 3 days with Angie, Mick and their kids (Zach and Cory) at the Crooked Tree Lodge; we loved the lagoon and serenity of the place, they needed a cook for the busy season. I won them over with a potato dish and it was a close call, but in the end we decided to seek our destiny elsewhere.
Ghetto breakfast - old corn tortillas given new life by topping with peanut butter and bananas before toasting in the pan!
Good ol´classic southern barbecue meat at Slim´s Grill in Biscayne, Belize
Noah makes possibly the best Cashew and Blackberry wine in Belize, Sand Hill
The ride leaving Crooked Tree was hard, partially because we couldn't find a good place to stay along the way, and partially because my stubbornness wanted to get all the way to Monkey Bay Wildlife Sanctuary. The 85km ride was our longest yet, and we rested there for 4 whole days to check out the area and recover. After yoga in the morning, Tim and Cory, two motor bikers from Calgary (Dad, take note! Terranova Expedition - their Dec 12 blog has some photos of our day at the zoo!) gave us a ride on their bikes back to the zoo. The zoo was devastated by Hurricane Richard in October, but the staff did everything they could to ensure we still had a great day. Hats off to them. We got up close and personal with a python, tapiers, mountain lions and scarlet macaws. We even got to do a "roll-over, high-five" with a jaguar - so close that you could smell its breath and it was exhilarating. Jaguars are massive cats, much bigger than either of us anticipated. The next day we we cycled 20km backwards (one-way!) to Gracy Rock, a small Creole Village, with our new friend Alex who grew up in the village. It's a gorgeous little village on the Sibun river - we had to paddle a boat over the river to Alex's house. Him and his family was very kind to us and it was his birthday coming up, and I made him and the rest of the great people at Monkey Bay 2 massive lasagnas the night before we left.
Oh my god! Look at that beard!!! - Belize Zoo
The Schalk of envy, Tim and Corey from Terranova Expedition with one of the bikes
Bridge over Sibun River with Alex at Gracy Rock
Now we are in hilly country and apparently the hills towards Guatemala are even more difficult. So wish us luck - we'll be heading out there probably in about a week!
The last week in Mexico was a tumble dryer; we travelled quickly and struggled in parts of the wilderness, pampered ourselves at an ecolodge and lay-low for a while in a campers hideaway paradise, and even played a small role in the theartical drama of a bustling populated albeit little Mexican town.
The boat to Punta Herrero from Punta Allen was in the end a mystery never to be resolved, the weather did not improve, at least not within a reasonable time bracket for our trip, and we took the rugged road through Sian Kaan to get to Felipe Carrillo Puerto. Cycling through the middle of a biosphere reserve jungle as four o'clock swings around, the day begins to yawn and you have no clue where you will sleep that night can heighten the stress levels just a tad. Luckily for us the lesser visited Caseta Santa Teresa did in fact exist and came just at the saving tick of time, Manuel the ranger working there was a saint and showed us into the very comfortable military style sleeping quarters and bathrooms. We had a great nights sleep after a well deserved warm meal and loads of liquids.
We reached Felipe Carrillo Puerto well into the afternoon after another tough ride and a minor puncture in Sian Kaan. The road closer to Carrillo seemed to be the hunting ground for many a poacher or logger, it was a sad sight to see the scars left behind as layers of jungle were torn out of the thick vegetation. A quick stop at the first little mini-mart, a few cold cokes later and we found a hotel to rest for the night. That evening and early the next morning we enjoyed the delights the regional town markets of Mexico tend to offer, fresh licuados and hot empanadas - yumm!
After the Sian Kaan adventure, the rough nights sleep in Carrillo and lots of headwind, the 75km ride to Pedro Antonio Santos for our next stop was a real, real tough challenge. We crashed for a quick lunch and a rest in one of the random staggered yellow concrete bus stops along the highway. We reached our destination late into the day, it was a beautiful end to our ride - the wind calmed, birds and grasshoppers flew across our view of the setting sun. We rode in these calm, dry and comfortable conditions until reaching the turn off to Laguna Azul, a German run camping and cabana hang-out on the northern edge of the Bacalar Laguna. We stayed for two magical and relaxing nights where we came to a deeper understanding of why people tend to move to live at the edge of a lake.
Vinko and Stefan attempting the world's first canoe launched Kite Surf, Laguna Azul
Our stay in Bacalar was eco-romantic at the Kuuch Kaanil cabanas, again the stunning lake and the relaxing setting made it difficult to cut our stay any shorter (we stayed for three nights). While staying with the nice people at Kuuch Kaanil we explored the lake for half a morning with a couple from Mexico city who were staying there on a friends recommendation. Our guide Angel took us to a 120 meter deep cenote (Cenote Azul - often used by deep sea free divers) as well as gliding through the Canal de los Piratas, a channel used by logging pirates local from the region who used to smuggle out mahogany to be used on expensive furniture made in England and Europe before the 20th century. This area is definitely going on our top picks list to return to and maybe start our eco-venture, it is truly amazing and very well worth looking after. The couple from Mexico city, Manuel and Mansul turned out to be extremely generous people. That afternoon they invited us to come along for a walk around Chachobben (they insisted on paying our entry fee!), a rarely visited group of Mayan temple ruins much more majestic and stunning that anything seen at Chitchen Itza - but this is probably largely due to the fact that you might well turn out to be the only person at the site to experience its calm wonder.
The mission ride to Belize turned out to be quite a bit more difficult (mostly due to head wind - again) and quite a bit further than we initially envisioned. We crossed the border after paying a departure tax to leave Mexico - a common feature it seems in most Central American nations. Right on the border between Mexico and Belize there is a place known as the free-zone, a place of bargain shopping with tax free prices the size of a smaller town, totally lawless and chaotic. Immediately upon entering Belize one could sense the striking differences in culture; the music, the accents, the clothing, the cars and of course the currency. We bought only necessary supplies in the free-zone and snatched a quick lunch at a road stall serving Mexican style buns with chicken and salsa, these went down well with a couple of soft drinks to quench our day's thirst.
We reached Corozal, our first destination in Belize, after a brisk hour ride from the border. Drivers on the road, again were very considerate and took sweeping lines to provide lots of clearance for us - this is even more remarkable when considering the fact that this was highway number one, a road with just enough space for two trucks to pass each other and no painted lines. Corozal is a cute little town with a lovely little central plaza or park, it had just the right number of shops and stops for us to stock up on supplies, get on the internet to complete this website (yay - milestone!) and get a night's rest. We got up very early the next morning for our boat transfer to Sarteneja, an end of the road seaside town with a more regional road access to Orange Walk - at this point our preferred travel route.
Three 250 horsepower outboards, that beats anything we saw as kids on Lastovo!
All in all, we miss Mexico already and having explored just a small number of gems that just the state of Quintana Roo had to offer, we pledge to return again sometime to explore more of this thriving middle ground and rich melting point standing between North and Central America. Belize it turns out, as we predicted, is already a lot more pleasant and friendly than people warned us along our route so far - but that's always the case, isn't it?!
After the ride and the road, we figured that no matter how nice Punta Allen is, there is no way that it would have been worth it. To confirm suspicions, we are greeted with drizzle rain, gusts of wind and sandy streets in a gray bay. I'm sure it's lovely when the sun shines, otherwise what would truckloads of tourists be pouring in here for? (apparently it's for the dolphins and the turtles in the bay, and possibly the manatees in the lagoon).
The plan is to try and get a boat down to Punta Herrero on the next peninsula south. We wanted to go this way because we thought it would be a cool off-the-beaten-track experience and because I read somewhere that the highway from Tulum south is hideous for bikers (which ended up being old news - it was redone in 2009 and is now the same as the highway from Cancun with a great big shoulder for bikes). Because we are not herded around town in a tour group and we have time to kill, we talk to so many of the locals and we get varied responses about our P. Herrero inquiries. The "tours" quote us $500US, some people say it's impossible and eventually we find somebody who is willing to help us out and do the trip for about $130US. Now we just have to wait for the weather to improve otherwise the crossing is too dangerous.
We while away the days chatting to people, practicing our Spanish, discovering where to buy amazing fresh bread and honing our survival skills. Vinko comes running while I'm cooking dinner, and with a silly grin reveals a crab that he caught on the beach. We experiment with a cup of boiling water. It's strange in a primal way to watch the crab exhale a stream of bubbles and surrender to the inevitable. It's not very tasty. But it does make good bait, and the next day we spend 5 hours in waist high water out by the lighthouse catching fish. We caught 5 fish and feast like kings that night on our own version of fish and chips.
We also got to witness the festivities for La Revolution here. One morning we saw some little kids dressed up in sombreros and neck-scarves with wooden guns and mustaches drawn on their faces. Cute as buttons and chanting "Viva Mexico! Viva Punta Allen!" all the way to school.
We spend 5 days and 5 extremely windy, rainy, miserable nights in Punta Allen waiting for the weather to improve. I spent countless hours at night holding my breath and reminding myself that this was an alpine tent and that it surely had to withstand this terrible wind. But every morning the sunshine and clear skies deceive us into thinking that this will be the day... so we stay. It seems that many of the expats who are now locals came for a visit and never left. It's a bit of a strange thing, but again most people are super friendly and after a while we get waves on the streets and none of the tour touts bother to ask us if we want to go somewhere anymore. It was sitting in the back of Pierre and Alexandra's car talking about nothing and observing the tourists as if they were foreigners in my town that I realize the special opportunity we've created for ourselves by traveling this way, and I become really excited for our journey.
The plan was to get to Punta Allen (another 30km or so down the coast) in one go. It's only 30km - how bad could it be? We almost disappear into another galaxy down one of the thousand or so potholes, only to dodge it and end up in another death trap of rocks and holes. So by the time that we hit halfway and see a sign for cabañas and cold beer, we don't even have to ask each other if we're stopping.
We enter Xamach Dos and meet Dan Hazard, artist / real estate agent from Seattle and King of his Own Empire down here in sunny Mexico. The beach is silky white sand scattered with a generous amount of shady palms, lazy hammocks dot the property and a shallow reef about 600m out turns the bay into a calm turquoise swimming pool. Five low impact bungalows are scattered around, one of which Dan built from driftwoo0d, washed up bamboo and rope, and conch shells. Dan let us camp on the beach and we had the whole place to ourselves. At night the bushes around us light up with fireflies. The food here is terrific - Francisca is the keeper of over a thousand recipes I'm sure and she treated us to a huge breakfast upon arrival, fresh caught snapper for dinner, home-made chipotle with every meal and the best banana-coconut pancakes in the whole universe.
I don't know if any of you have had the pleasure of watching pelicans hunting fish. I could (and did) lay for hours in a hammock and watch their kamikaze hunting techniques. First they sit in the water for a bit. Lord knows why the fish stick around for that. Then they clumsily take off, the whole time looking like an overloaded D6 airplane threatening to crash. But they make it up in the air, do a half circle and then hurtle themselves beak first and breakneck speed back into the spot they came from. Oh boy, and if there's two of them hunting the same fish? A delightful pastime indeed...
The gravel road from Tulum to CESiaK is slow (but now, in hindsight and compared to the other roads we've been on since, it's not that bad at all!). It's located on a thin strip of jungle covered peninsula between the Carribean and a giant lagoon. After gaping at the oceans and enjoying being off our bikes, we wander up to the roof and I immediately lose my heart over the spectacular vistas of the ocean to the east and the sprawling lagoon and jungle to the west. My feet feel grounded and I have no desire to get off the roof - ever! But, the stomach speaks and we make our way downstairs for lunch. The people that are drawn to this place are great! Pepe is the manager and his support of our project means that we stay here two days to talk and learn and enjoy. We also meet some other travelers from Holland - Arjean & Lukas - and the time we spend hanging out with them just adds to our overall feeling of happiness. They are traveling from Alaska to Argentina over one year, and I learned about the beauty of Southern Lakes up in Yukon. We resolve to do a trip up there next time we're in Canada in the summer (road trip, family?)
The sunsets here are simply stunning. When you stand on the top of the roof you get a 360 degree view of Sian Ka'an. The sky goes pink and orange and reflects of the trees and the water until the lagoon swallows the glowing orb and everything goes purple. We enjoy another margarita on the pontoon on the lagoon (we figured it out: the secret is in the fresh lime juice!). Everything is in pairs. Two margaritas. Two cool zebra-looking box fish. Two random jellyfish float by. Two pelicans. A German and his crystal skull. Two by two we heal the world. We all unite for dinner, where out of nowhere we are invited to participate in a healing ceremony. I don't know whether it was the strangeness of the experience, or whether the experience was actually strange, but we all felt something. For what it's worth, I hope my healing energies went to CESiaK and Sian Ka'an and that they stay as they are for decades more.
The night we slept in Luis' house in Puerto Morelos I found an old Lonely Planet and read an entry about Cenote Dos Ojos. We had agreed that we would make that our main attraction in terms of cenotes. Now, standing before the guide, we were wondering what exactly would be good enough to warrant a $300 pesos entry fee each. But we said we would, so we did. And it was remarkable!
Dos Ojos is a series of cave cenotes that are connected by underwater passages (like all cenotes, except that the current is very mild and the caverns are close so you are able to snorkel and/or dive between these ones). The stalactites and stalagmites have lost their sense of time and direction over decades; some hang suspended in the ceiling, some dip into the water, and some poke out from the depths. It's incredible to see them through the torchlight and chase the little silver fishies around them. Blue light glows where divers have been swallowed in adjacent caves. It's another world.
The wind beat us to Tulum and by the time we get to a campsite we are having a pretty grouchy time setting up the tent in the wind and the sand. But these are the "perks" of camping on the beach. And it is next to the ruins, which in themselves are not that impressive although the setting on the cliff overlooking the ocean is very cool. Little Vinko faces off against the big bad world when we learn that the beach we came to swim at to see the ruins from the water is closed to the public.
The other "perk" of camping on the beach next to the ruins is that it turned out to be a prime spot for some pirateering. One of the main reasons why we forked out $150 pesos to sleep in our own tent on a patch of sand is that the owner told us that the beaches are not safe and that their place is secure. So when Vinko's first mumbled words to me the next morning was "Baby, why is this open?", we both bolted upright to find our tent flap open, pants and toiletries bag outside the tent, and wallet gone! But it was only one of the 6 stashes of cash (what's that saying again about eggs in a basket?), the stash was a bit depleted, and the looter had the decency to leave the ATM card and drivers' licence in the driveway. So it was a lesson learnt, but at least not a tragic one. For the special price of $100 USD we learned where we will and will not be sleeping in the future.
