Now THIS is Honey Mooning!
We decided to spend our last day in Hopkins enjoying a little beach time in the nearby town of Placencia. Helen kindly pestered Adam to move quicker, unsure how to manage her new book worm of a husband. Helen had always encouraged Adam to read more, but now he was a man possessed, using every second of spare time tapping away pages of Brandon Sanderson's Words of Radiance on his Kindle. It was a classic case of be careful what you wish for. "No one moves faster than me!" Adam insisted as he took a sip of coffee from the comfort of the Crash Pad's rooftop hammock. He certainly didn't look like he was going to move any time soon.
Eventually Adam did move, and the family 2-up'd on Adam's motorbike all the way to Placencia, a ritzy-er beach town 1 hour south. We made sure to stop at a local bakery for a delicious cinnamon roll. At the bakery, we made small talk with a local tourist, who gave us the slightly judgmental "be safe" as we said our goodbyes and he side-eyed our bike in the parking lot.
After our bakery stop we got coffee and a delicious acaí bowl at a local coffee shop. Then we made camp at the local beach, read books, floated in the water when we got too hot, and drew pictures in the sand. For lunch we found a nice seafood restaurant. We ordered fresh crudo and a tasty fish and chips.
We walked off lunch, hunting for a Christmas ornament in the nearby shops, which looked like they might be tourist traps. Sure enough, we found one ornament going for $12.50 and scoffed at what must be an inflated tourist price. So we continued wandering into another gift store (this one had air conditioning!) where we saw the same mass produced Christmas ornament going for $20. We laughed – maybe $12.50 wasn't such a bad deal to begin with.
The rest of the day was mostly uneventful, and the next morning we said our goodbyes. Hopkins was a wonderful, quirky little beach town much to our tastes, but we wouldn't exactly call it a traditional honeymoon destination. Our accommodations were not fancy, there was no housekeeping or concierge. The area around us was home to locals who didn't have the same economic opportunities as many wealthy Americans. Most buildings looked like they needed some maintenance and several were even abandoned mid-development. An eccentric expat was building a "family castle" on the main street that looked a little bit like a miniature medieval times. However, for the adventurous who would rather spend their money on excursions and eating reasonably priced delicious local food than unnecessary luxuries, it's a great place to vacation!
As great as Hopkins was it was time for our next location. We ordered a taxi and made our way into the mountains to our next destination, Gaia Riverlodge. On the journey, Helen probed the driver with questions about the area. We learned that the locals are big fans of Shyne, a Belizean rapper who was buddies with the Notorious B.I.G, and the even more notorious P Diddy. Shyne had a brief foray into Belizean politics, with a promise to flush out the rampant corruption, but was ultimately crushed by his opponents. Our driver also told us about the local mennonite population who have a strong presence in Belize. The mennonites have a reputation for buying up forest land and destroying it with industrial farming. This has led to a few tongue-in-cheek nicknames including: "money-nites" and "narco-nites" the latter of which we didn't inquire too much about... We did, however, stop at a mennonite farm in the mountains that sold delicious, fresh ice cream. Helen wondered whether she might be distantly related to any of them.
The last few miles were a bumpy dirt road that ended at our luxury hotel. Our driver dropped us off and we walked into the lobby where a smiling bartender greeted us with tropical drinks. Having arrived a little earlier than planned, we were told to leave our bags while they finished prepping our room. We wandered over to the railing and soon understood why this hotel was constructed on a remote mountain road:
As we sat down to enjoy the view and our drinks, Helen checked her email out of habit and was rewarded with a lovely surprise. Our wedding photos were ready! Now this is honeymooning! We flipped through the photos and smiled, marveling at what a difference a professional photographer makes.
After an hour or so, we returned to the front desk and they had a key waiting for us. We walked to our private cabana and opened the door to a beautifully made canopy bed with "Happy Honeymoon" written in flowers and a bottle of sparkling rosé waiting for us on ice. That night we enjoyed our wine, (maybe a little to much) and being ambitious travelers we decided it'd be a good idea to sign up for a sunrise tour at Caracol, the epicenter of an ancient Mayan city that archaeologists estimate could have been home to 120,000 people.
At 4:00am we were jolted awake by our alarm, a smidge hung over and perplexed by our own choice to wake up before sunrise on the first night of luxury. We walked to the lobby to find our tour guide waiting for us with an unexpected but very welcome hot pot of coffee– it was as if they had a sixth sense for our caffeine addiction. Now this is honeymooning!
Caracol was about an hour away and we got there a few minute before the 5:18am sunrise. Our guide pulled over to talk to the rangers. He said he needed to confirm some details with them before we went in. We sat in the car and observed some rather emphatic gesticulations, wondering what they were talking about and why it was taking so long. At one point the guide ran back to the car to fetch his credentials. We exchanged worried glances. Finally, our guide returned to the car to let us know we would not be allowed into the park until 8:00 am. Apparently there was a new boss in charge, and he had his own interpretation of the park rules.
To our guide's credit, he was as frustrated as we were, but everyone tried to keep their spirits up, not wanting to let the bad news ruin our excursion. However, Helen, ever a heart-on-sleeve type, could not disguise her disappointment that we wouldn't be able to watch the sunrise from the top of an ancient Mayan pyramid. She plopped down dejectedly in the road, hoping the ranger would take pity on her and let us in. Ever the positive spirit, Adam did his best to cheer Helen up, and invented a dance to a specific bug call. This did in fact lift Helen's spirits and for the rest of the trip we did the bug dance whenever we heard its call.
As it always does, time moved forward, and 8:00 am eventually came. At exactly 8:01 am we were allowed to enter the park, and our tour guide did a fantastic job of walking us through the ancient city. He explained the meaning behind many of the structures, and the theories behind the various carvings, altars, and symbols. Our guide, part Mayan himself, glowed with pride in the achievements of his ancestors. We sat in the sacred space inhabited by many Mayan kings, overlooking our domain, as he painted a vivid picture of what this city could have looked like in its prime. One area was the king's wives quarters, maybe over there was a market, in that area over there were high-end homes for the wealthy elite. While it wasn't the tour we expected it was still an excellent tour!
After Caracol we stopped by a cave that was beautiful in its own right, but not as exciting as the birds nests we saw on our way out. We learned the local weaver birds would weave these large pouches high up in the trees for their nests. It was the male's job to weave the nest, and the females would go inside and puff themselves up to shape it properly. However, if the male failed to weave a nest up to the female's standard, she would reject it, cut it down with her beak and demand he start over. Helen joked that she would do the same. Adam joked that we'd be going through a lot of houses if we depended on his building skills (throwback to day -7).
