After a month-and-a-half in Belize, it was time to move on. As much as I was enjoying Placencia, Belize only grants 30 day visas for visitors and mine was about to expire. Plus, I was eager to check out Guatemala.
On the morning of Day 49, we headed to the boat dock in Placencia, next to Barefoot Bar and purchased tickets ($10 BZ). The 10:00 “Hokey Pokey” Boat arrived on schedule and we all piled on. After a 15 minute boat ride on calm waters we arrived in Independence, Belize. A bunch of us then hopped in a mini-van cab and headed to the bus station. [Traveler tip: You don’t need to do this, the bus stops at the boat dock]
The public bus arrived only slightly behind schedule, around 11:00 (scheduled for 10:45). The bus was packed and only a couple people got off. Yet, no one seemed all that concerned about fitting in this influx of 8-10 additional passengers. And their bags. Somehow we all fit. Of course, that required most of the new passengers to stand in the aisle, trying not to topple over into someone’s lap as the bus peeled around winding roads. It wasn’t the most comfortable experience. Then, 20 minutes into the ride/balance exercise, the ticket taker announced that there was a police check-point coming up and everyone needed to get in a seat. At the behest of the ticket taker, the two adults seated in the two-seater next to me begrudgingly slid over approximately one inch to accommodate me.
When I was in 8th grade, my mom and I moved and I had to start taking the bus to school. One winter morning, I sat in an aisle seat in the front of the bus. The “cool kids” all sat at the back of the bus. My backpack was full of books that day, so bulky that it protruded out into the aisle. I don’t remember what I held in my lap but it prevented me from taking off my heavy back pack. I can still feel the weight of that backpack when I recall what happened next. The bus made a sharp right turn that I was not prepared for. Panic overtook me as I began tipping over into the aisle. Time slowed to a crawl as I tried in vain to subvert gravity. Slowly but surely I landed, like an overturned turtle, in the aisle in full view of the entire bus. For a 13 year old, “humiliated” is an understatement. I disliked school buses before then. For a while after that, riding on them filled me with dread.
That memory came rushing back as I perched on a tiny piece of pleather cushion, backpack in my lap, most of my body leaning into the aisle, my thighs burning with effort to keep me from flying forward as the bus lurched around curves. Thankfully, a seat opened after nearly 45 minutes where I spent the remainder of the two hour bus ride resting my aching lower half.
We arrived in Punta Gorda, Belize around 1:00 pm and purchased tickets for the ferry to Livingston through Memo’s Boat Service. [Traveler tip: Make sure you have enough cash for the boat ticket ($25 US, I think) AND pricey exit fee ($39 US). Both fees can be paid at the immigration office].
The boat arrived around 3:00. No drug sniffing dogs this time. Once we were all boarded, one of the workers handed me and the girl sitting next to me a large tarp to place over us. I didn’t think it was really necessary, I’m not worried about my hair getting wet (advantage: Braids). But they were pretty insistent. Strangely, no one else was offered a tarp. (I’m going to assume it’s because both of us were black and he had been taking notes during Good Hair)
As we set off towards Livingston it soon became clear why the tarp had been provided. It had stormed the day before and the sea was dark and rough. Large waves crashed against the boat, drenching us as we sped through the Amatique bay. The boat bounced wildly against the ocean, often going airborne before crashing down again. The looks on me and my fellow passengers faces went from bemused to slightly concerned to fear stricken
During the hour long boat ride, there were several times in which I began wondering how my death would be reported in the newspaper. “Local hero flung from boat during 3 month heroic journey through Central America. Dies a hero”. Just guessing at headlines. But accurate guesses aside, it was a very scary ride. We were all relieved to hoist our soaking wet bodies onto the dock in Livingston.
It was a day of very uncomfortable rides but we made it to Guatemala safe and mostly sound.