I awoke at 8:30 and wanted to see a bit more of the area before moving on to Belize. I got on one of the dirt cheap (though still clean and comfortable) public buses to Las Calderitas, the rocky beach nearby. Instead, I ended up taking the entire route back to town, as I decided that the beach didn’t look enticing enough. Anyway, I still had to check out of my room and find the bus to Belize.

Hey, they can’t all be winners.

Though I did get to see the outskirts of Chetumal. It’s really a very colorful city, which boasts nearly as many pollerias as zapaterias. Tons of raw, whole chickens on display this morning. Yum.

A quick checkout and a naueseating cab ride later, I was at the bus station. I bought my ticket to Belize, and changed all my pesos into Belizean dollars. The bus didn’t leave for another hour and a half, and I hadn’t eaten yet, so I hopped over to the cafeteria. I ordered a coke (real sugar!) and a torta mixto. After fumbling around trying to convert the cost to Beli-Bucks, I wondered if I hadn’t jumped the gun converting all of my money. The sandwich had pulled chicken, ham, cheese, lettuce and tomato. It came with another amazingly hot salsa. So good.

In the bus station, I saw some familiar faces: A German couple who were on a leg of one of my previous bus trips. A man I saw walking around the Mayan museum yesterday. The other day I saw someone from my flight to Cancun checking into the hostel as I was leaving. It’s comforting having even some vague sense of familiarity in an otherwise unfamiliar setting.

The chariot to Belize was an old American school bus repainted with red, white and blue stripes. I sat next to and struck up conversation with the aforementioned German couple, as well as a Columbian girl who now lives in Belize and a Puerto Rican girl who had been living in Brooklyn for the past few years. All of them speak English well, but the conversation flows seamlessly into Spanish from time to time.

At the border, there weren’t any real problems, but I did have to pay two different fees. The consensus was that the second fee was bogus, but what could I do? I wasn’t going to hold up the bus over a couple of bucks. I learned from the Belizean customs officer that today is St. George’s day and one of many days of celebration leading up to September 21, their independence day.

The ride through northern Belize went slowly as the bus made many stops along the way. The first major stop was in Orange Walk, where about 20 additional passengers boarded the bus. Every seat was filled with people of all colors and speaking all sorts of languages. It was just like being back in NYC.

Upon arrival, I made my way to the Seaside Guest House. I was greeted by the proprietor, Mitch, a lanky old hippy. He told me about the home-cooked fish and lobster dinner he’s preparing for tonight, and I knew I found the right place.

Upstairs, on the verandah overlooking the water, were three fellow guests, all from North America. I sat and chatted with them a while. Great conversation, and nice cool sea breeze.

Come sundown, a few of us went downstairs to help Mitch with dinner preperations. What could have been a 20 minute meal ended up taking us three and a half hours. Lots and lots of discussion about food, life, work, philosophy. And it ended up being worth the wait. The salad had lettuce, tomato, cucumber, onion, carrot and avocado tossed with salt, pepper and lime juice. The main entree was grilled black tip shark, flouder, and lobster tail in sauteed sweet and hot peppers, onions and green beans.

After dinner, I took a quick walk around the waterfront. Lots of locals had their own small St George day celebrations going.

It seems like an interesting place and I’m eager to explore.