Everyone Poops

We both woke with a bad case of traveler's intestines and marveled at the fact that it had taken so long for it to happen. We tried to eat breakfast at the resort's restaurant, but neither of us had much of an appetite. When one of the staff came to clear our plates she asked, "What happened?" and I explained that we just weren't very hungry. I'm sure the fact that we took turns excusing ourselves from the table to tear up the restaurant's bathroom (since our room was being cleaned) spoke for itself. Hey, I know it ain't pretty, but these are the realities of international travel.

While at breakfast, we arranged to have to have the water taxi called for us and then returned to our room to shower and sit on the toilet as much as possible. We both took anti-diarrheal medication, loaded up on sunscreen and bug spray, and then went to wait on the dock. We saw the water taxi approaching. It stopped to pick up several people from a nearby dock, after which the driver waved apologetically at us to indicate that the boat was full. We decided to wait to see if another would come by and one did within fifteen minutes.

On the way to town, we chatted with the boat driver and some recently-arrived tourists about good places to eat. He gave us a couple suggestions to try out. We got off the boat, paid, and headed for the ATM. San Pedro was unbelievably quiet.

Abandoned downtown San Pedro

Ah yes, the Mormons.

We stopped into a bazaar to buy a few supplies that we thought we would need for the next leg of our trip, including flashlights and ponchos. This was the first place I actually heard much Spanish spoken during the cashier's interaction with the women in line in front of us. I was glad to be able to use Spanish during my interaction with her.

We went back to Carlos' cigar shop for more cigars and a chat. Carlos was disappointed and apologetic that some cigars Charlie had inquired about earlier had not yet arrived. At that moment he came across as a guy who sighs a lot in his life, especially for someone whose business is selling relaxation. 

Charlie's cigar haul

By then we were hungry. We stopped one more place to buy some long-sleeved shirts and asked the shop owners their opinion on places to eat. We settled on a place called Lily's Treasure Chest, which was deceptively good. It appeared to cater to tourists so we weren't expecting much, but they served delicious Belizean chicken and fish.

The timing of our San Pedro outing that day was perfect and we were lucky enough to get an early outgoing water taxi. We made it back to the cabana in time to sit on the porch, swing in the hammock, smoke cigars, and watch the clouds turn pink as the sun set for us one final time on the Caye. We watched the employees of various resorts on the make their nightly bicycle commute down the beach path. 

"Traffic jam"

Colorful sunset

We saw Adam and asked him for recommendations for nearby restaurants, but he didn't have one. Several of the resort staff had recommended a place called Palapa, a neon-lit beach bar that looked like it appealed to frat boys. We asked Adam about it but he seemed indifferent, probably figuring it wasn't our style. We decided to try it anyway just for a change of scenery from the resort's restaurant. We left after the evening commute with our new flashlights in hand, although one of them barely worked. Along the way we saw small crabs, a gecko, and lots more syringe caps.

The garish bar was easy to spot in the dark thanks to its flashy lighting. At first we thought it was closed because there were only two other parties dining there. It turned out to be an aspiring Margaritaville with a Jimmy Buffet exclusive satellite radio station being played over the speakers, much to my dismay. The service was slow despite the fact that there was no one there with whom to compete for the server's attention, but the food was decent enough. Everything was deep-fried and that was fine with us. We chatted with the bartender named Chi, who turned out to be Adam's cousin. He was a nice guy.

The walk back to the resort was almost deserted except for the occasional bicycle and one drunk, middle-aged couple having a nasty argument. When we got to the resort, some Garifuna folks were entertaining diners with their drumming and we were not looking forward to trying to sleep through it. Luckily, the party wrapped up by eight o'clock. Perhaps Ambergris Caye is an early-to-bed place because of all the elderly folk that travel there.