Go with the flow

Last Friday as I was preparing to leave San Diego, I was feeling pretty anxious. Anxious about being back on the road, living out of a pack, not knowing what was going to happen from moment to moment, day to day, week to week. But then I got to Dallas, spent a few days catching up with friends, and forgot all about the anxiety...until Tuesday morning when I found myself packing...again...this time for the real deal.

And although my flight was an hour late taking off due to mechanical issues which meant that I arrived in Belize City an hour late which then meant that I missed the last ferry and had to make a last minute decision to stay a night in Belize City after all - the "plans" have already changed, practically before they even had a chance to get started - all of that, and yet all of my anxiety melted away as soon as I stepped off the plane. It's kind of strange how it all just came back to me. This is what traveling is all about for me - rolling with the punches and not letting anything bother me.

So I grabbed my bag from the carousel, bought a bottle of tequila for my first couchsurfing host, and skipped the long "nothing to declare" line in favor of the much shorter "to declare/duty free purchases" line and was quickly through customs. I consulted my travel guide and chose a guesthouse almost solely on its near proximity to the marine terminal.

At the North Front Street Guesthouse, I was lucky enough to snag a triple room all for myself. Bathrooms were shared and cold water only, but I've never been so grateful for a cold shower after the humidity that greeted me upon arrival. I found out the guesthouse has been in the same family for 38 years - apparent from the way they treated me just like family almost from the moment I arrived. I settled in, asked for a restaurant recommendation, and ended up at Nerie Restaurant II, also family owned and operated.

Again I asked for a recommendation and I wasn't steered wrong. I had a whole fried snapper (caught fresh that morning), stewed beans, white rice, coleslaw, and fried plantains with a fresh watermelon juice to drink. It was a-maz-ing. SO good. I ate until I couldn't eat anymore. And...then I ate some more. :-) My server was a sweet gal who asked me if I lived in Belize. "No, I actually just arrived for the first time, oh, about four hours ago. Why do you ask?" Apparently, I look Belizean with my style of dress. Now THAT takes talent! Less than four hours and already being mistaken for a local!

After getting a second watermelon juice to go, I headed back to the guesthouse with the intention of sitting on the back porch, soaking everything in, and maybe reading a bit. What I ended up doing was spending hours talking to one of the family members, Briony, and one of the long-term guests, a retired Canadian army vet named Norms. We chatted, shared stories, listened to the lizards croak and watched the bats fly, and ducked for cover when a super strong, super quick thunderstorm poured in.

As I finally was saying goodnight and turning in, I couldn't help but think: "Ah. This is what I've been missing."