A journey to the wilds of Belize: `you want me to wade through what?' - travel - Brief Article
Joan MorganAsk me and my man to define the ultimate sexy getaway, and I'm sure the answer would involve tropical trade winds, balmy beaches and a good deal of sweat. And we're free spirits with a passion for exploring different cultures, so nothing turns us out more than "discovering" a spot that veers off the beaten path, before "development" turns it into an overly sanitized, Americanized tourist trap.
There are, however, some marked differences in our travel styles. My honey is the last Jungle Boy. His idea of romantic bliss includes a backpack, a tent and a good pair of hiking boots. I, on the other hand, am willing to travel that path as long as there's a hotel and ample opportunity to rock a pair of Gucci stilettos in the mix. A week in Belize sounded like just what Dr. Love ordered--rest, relaxation and a little bit of adventure.
Mercifully void of Mickey D's, noisy nightclubs and tourist harassment, this tiny Central American country, nestled between Guatemala and Mexico and bordered by the Caribbean, spoke to our spirits. We got off to a great start with a two-night stop in Placencia, which we spent sailing and sunning in the cays and snorkeling in Belize's amazing barrier reef, the world's second largest.
Satiating our culture jones also proved to be no problem. In the languid seaside town of Dangriga, we learned the history of the Garifuna people (the descendants of rebellious Africans and Arawak Indians who arrived in Belize during the height of slavery--beautiful, proud and free). In Punta Gorda, the Mayan Indians of Laguna Village treated us to food, shelter, song and dance.
When we got to the adventure part, however, things got a little out of control. I asked our contact at the Tourism Board for a little outdoor activity and exploration, thinking medium-intensity nature walk. So I must confess to a bit of a meltdown when our guide told us that the next item on our agenda was a jungle trek in a Mayan village, followed by an overnight stay at Caves Branch, an adventure camp in the heart of the jungle (no telephones, no friggin' lights, no Gucci stilettos). "Get me someone from the Belize Tourism Board now!" I demanded.
"It's Saturday," our guide responded good-naturedly. My bemused travel buddy tried to console me, to no avail. I went to sleep that night despondent.
The next morning, I borrowed a pair of my man's long pants, put on my one long-sleeved shirt and my really cute red Nike's (the kind with the toe thing you can't wear socks with and the closest thing I had to hiking boots), and decided to make the best of it. After 20 minutes of trudging through some of the thickest flora I had ever seen (believe me, Survivor had nothing on this), the mud all but swallowed my Nike's--leaving them ruined, and me barefoot and worried about slipping off the cliff to my ultimate demise.
In a laughable act of chivalry, our guide put on my sneakers, gave me his boots and continued teaching us about medicinal herbs and Mayan agricultural traditions and exposing us to some of the most breathtaking scenes imaginable. There was a physically challenging trek through Tiger's Cave, a vaulted wonder that has been the site of Mayan religious ceremonies for hundreds of years, then the emerald waters of the Rio Grande, lined with banks of impressive trees and flowers and dotted by dozens of varieties of butterflies. Children washed clothes and bathed in the waters. In silence and awe, we canoed our way down the river and back to the village compound, where our host family treated us to a hot meal of eggs, cilantro, shrimp, black beans and tortillas. I was hot, sweaty, filthy and happy.
Although I would have gladly traded in my nature-girl stint for a dip in a Jacuzzi, a chance to pull out something sexy and tight, and a dance floor where I could rock my forlorn stilettos, the look on my baby's face made it all worthwhile. He was beaming when our guide confided that there were grown men who had trouble finishing the trek, and I had completed it like a trooper. I felt strong, alive and sexy--very, very sexy. Just the incentive a diva girl needs to face yet another day in the jungle, donning an inner tube and spending several hours trekking through underground river caves.
WHERE TO STAY
All rates are for double occupancy, per night; economical package deals are available.
The Inn at Robert's Grove in Placencia. Rates, $125-$285 for summer; $165-$335, winter. Call (800) 565-9757 or visit robertsgrove.com.
Radisson Fort George Hotel and Marina in Belize City. Rates, $149-$169 for summer; $159-$179, winter. Call (800) 333-3333 or visit radissonbelize.com.
Pelican Beach Resorts in Stann Creek. $53-$181 for summer; $63-$197, winter. Call (011) 501-5-22044 or visit pelicanbeachbelize.com. For Belize Tourism Board, call (800) 624-0686 or visit travelbelize.org.
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