Foooooood Fiiiiiiiiight!!!!!

We ran into Jayson and Marie at breakfast and they invited us to join them. We had a great discussion about the common TV shows we were all fans of and American politics (in particular, our healthcare system compared to Canada's) and found that we were pretty much in agreement about things across the board. We felt a little bad for the other diners who had to listen to all of this, so Charlie apologized to everyone except Mrs. Loudmouth, who was dining alone that morning. 

The four of us decided to go hiking around in the bush around the resort. Along the way, we discussed the weirdness of the resort, like how there were dicks everywhere and that we suspected it was intended as a sex club. We also marveled at how dangerous all of the decor was. At this, they wanted to show us their "Chapel Suite" room, which looked exactly like it sounds. It had vaulted ceilings, stained glass windows, and a dark red color scheme. Jayson wondered aloud how anyone was supposed to have sex in there. They also pointed out that the walls were made of jagged rocks and decorated with fragments of broken bottles with sharp edges sticking out, just waiting to snag a passerby.

Chapel Suite

The only thing we really saw on our bush trek was a tree full of a half dozen vultures and a sizable dead locust that someone had taken the trouble of perching on top of a path-side light fixture.

Just like a scene out of the Jungle Book

"And there came out of the smoke locusts upon the earth: and unto them was given power, as the scorpions of the earth have power." - Revelations 9:3

We weren't able to venture very far because the rain had turned the already marshy land into a treacherous swamp. We didn't have the right shoes for such a trek and decided to call it a day when Charlie accidentally stepped into a bog up to his knee, mistaking some sponge-like undergrowth for solid ground. We had scheduled facials that afternoon anyway, and needed to shower beforehand.

One of the same masseuses from the day before, along with another unknown female staff member collected us from the lounge and led us back out to the spa area. They were just as silent as the women had been the day before. We carefully tread across the sharp rocks and climbed onto the same too-hard massage tables. Both of us became restless and squirmy about halfway through the facials as the massage tables began to take their toll on our backs.

These weren't so much what I would call facials as they were a food fight on our face. The treatment commenced with a cleansing with an almost unscented soap that I suspected to be regular hand soap or dish detergent. Each product application was rinsed with a warm cloth smelling of allspice, followed by a washcloth dipped in lemon scented ice water so cold that I nearly came off the table when it was applied my face. Then, I kid you not, they straight up peeled a banana, cut it in half, and rubbed the flat end of it all over our faces like a giant glue stick. After this, our skin was exfoliated with a handful of sugar. Next, they applied some soft clay mud, put cucumber slices over our eyes, and then commenced massaging our feet and lower legs with the same mosquito repellent oil from the day before while we waited for the mud to dry. As it dried it began to itch. I kept scrunching up my face to help crack up the thick coating so that it didn't itch so badly. The final touch was a layer of pure honey, the remnants of which mingled in my hairline with all the other ingredients that hadn't quite been washed off all the way. I spent the rest of the day scratching at it and picking out the dried bits of the fruit salad mud pie that they prepared on my mug. Any time I licked my lips, I got a sweet surprise from the substances dried in the corners of my mouth. Although it was a little bizarre as far as spa treatments go, it still managed to be a relaxing and pampering experience.

It had been a while since breakfast and, after all the food smells so near our noses we were ravenous. We headed into the dining room where we ate room-temperature BBQ chicken, another dose of nachos with canned cheese, plain white rice, and what we recognized as leftovers of the heart-of-palm salad that had been served as an appetizer at dinner the evening before. Maya the wiener dog made her rounds, visiting each table in hopes of receiving food, love, or both. She was probably the most charming small dog I had ever met. We asked our server whether the staff had quarters at the resort where they stayed between shifts. She said, "No, it stinks out here." I wasn't sure if she was literally referring to the odors at the resort, not that I perceived any other than the slightly mildewy bedding, or whether this represented her overall opinion of the place. I went to the lounge so that I could check us in for our flight online. Then I volunteered to talk to the owner about arranging an airport shuttle for the following day since he seemed to respond better to women. I had to wait for him to get off the phone, during which he mentioned to the person on the other end that heavy rain was expected. When he hung up, I approached him about the airport shuttle. He was very helpful to me indeed, and throughout the conversation it would have been apropos to remind him, "My eyes are up here."

We headed to the dick pool for a little relaxation and found Jayson and Marie just leaving after a sunbathing stint. We agreed to meet up for dinner so that we could exchange contact info before we left the resort. Charlie settled in with his book and a smoke. I took the opportunity to photograph one of the resort's most bizarre decorative elements. As I mentioned in the post about our arrival, hibiscus flowers appeared to grace just about every surface indoors and were used to garnish nearly every plate of food and every drink. But I realized that this wasn't just an indoor thing. The staff had been painstakingly decorating the outdoors with hibiscus flowers too, including affixing them to other non-flowering plants by stabbing their stems through that plant's leaves. You could see dozes of instances of this along every walking path and all around the dining and pool areas. Where were they getting all of these flowers? How did they have time to do this?! I gotta say, they never lacked attention to detail.

Seriously, what the hell?

A book, a smoke, and some tropical scenery

Taking it easy

Outdoor chessboard with stone chairs

A live locust. Hand for scale. Not my hand, that's for damn sure.

It appeared that a storm was rolling in, so we decided to take cover on our veranda so that we could shoot the final tasting notes for Smoking in the Park. And now, without further ado...

A downpour began, just as the owner's phone conversation foretold. We relaxed on the veranda for a bit. Charlie smoked and I attempted to clean what looked like a dusting of green mold from the giant wooden penis that Charlie had purchased in the gift shop.

Boy for scale

Polishing my shaft

We met Jayson and Marie in the dining room, where ridiculous belly dance music was playing over the speakers. We had a great long conversation about everything in the world. We knew these two had a few years on us, but we had a whole lot in common despite the age gap. The question about whether we planned to have children came up. We said no, to which Jayson responded, "Good for you!" I think that was the first time someone had responded so positively to the divulging of that information. Our meal lasted nearly three hours. 

Charlie ordered bananas flambé for dessert which came arranged on the plate with the banana in the middle and a scoop of ice cream on either side of it so that it resembled, you guessed it, a cock and balls. Not only this, but the syrupy rum sauce had been drizzled in such a way that it appeared to be ejaculating. Our server set down the flaming plate and then tried to sneak away as the table erupted in laughter. Charlie coaxed the poor embarrassed girl back to the table and asked her what the deal was with all the dicks. She giggled as she told us they were supposed to be fertility symbols and asked whether we had noticed the penis and sperms tiled on the floor of the main pool. I asked her who the mastermind was behind all of the phallic symbolism and she confirmed that it was the male half of the ownership team. "I knew it!" I exclaimed, realizing at that moment that he was sitting in his office adjacent to the dining room, well within earshot of our table.

We paid our bills and then showed Jayson and Marie our bohemian room before parting ways for the evening. We are still in occasional contact with these two, and hope to visit them in Ottawa during our travels someday.

Then Charlie and I turned in since we had to get an early start to make the journey back into Belize City in time for our flight home the following day.