Today we farewell Belize and its delicious lobsters and spend much of the day in transit to Tulum, Mexico. Not all days are created equal just as not all days can be jam packed with as much fun as others.
Today is one of those not so fun ones.
Last views from Caye Caulker
We are on the 8am water taxi from the island to the mainland. Its much cooler this morning so we all make a beeline for the downstairs interior. This proves to be a wise choice when people from the top level start coming down the stairs to squeeze in downstairs wherever they can, in varying stages of wetness. One woman’s hair is dripping. At some point water starts running along the bench seat on the side where most of the group are seating. I shift forward but its like shutting the gate after the proverbial horse, I have a wet arse.
An hour later and we’re pulling up to the dock at Belize City. Collecting my bag reveals that when putting the padlock on the bottom section of my backpack I only put it through one of the zippers, rendering it not only a pointless exercise but leaving my zipper to open, which is exactly what it has done. My towel was closest to the top and it’s still there, hopefully all of my underwear and socks still are too or I could need to go shopping once I hit Mexico!
Back in Mexico
At the Mexico border I forget to sign my entry form and the official sends me to the back of what is now a very large line. I want to yell with frustration and the injustice, it would have taken me two seconds to sign the form in front of him, but you don’t want to give them any reason to further make life difficult for you. My group gives me sympathetic looks but I’m sure the delay is a pain in the arse. He must have taken pity on me though as he called me back down after a few more people had gone through.
The customs section is empty when we arrive and they have to start up the machine to scan our bags through. They also have the same system I saw entering Guatemala for inspections. You collect your bag from the belt and are directed to push a button that has two lights above it. A green light you get to carry on, a red light means your bag gets checked. One of the group collects her bag quicker than me and goes ahead. She gets a red light. Mine is green. I’m relieved it is her and not me. Not that I think I would have anything of concern, but there are some things they could potentially challenge and my bag would be a nightmare to repack in a hurry. They had a good rifle through the bags of the four members of our group that got a red light.
It’s a nice comfortable bus with plenty of space for this next leg, thankfully since its such a long journey. We stop off at a lovely place on the lake for lunch where some of the group have a swim. I’m content to peruse however, and enjoy a banana nutella crepe for dessert!
Its pretty much 7pm when we pull into our Tulum accommodation and Ruth and I were pretty impressed with our room. It was ginormous, with a spacious bathroom and a king and queen bed. And the bed was super comfortable! Others didn’t find their rooms quite so impressive.
We walked the ten minutes into town for dinner. It’s unbelievable how many dogs are tearing around, I’m nearly barrelled over by one. But they all seem to have road sense. I’m keen to hit the shops tomorrow and check out some of the stores we’ve passed. Just for something different we have Tacos for dinner. They’re basic but pretty tasty. Some of us arrange to meet up for a trip to the ruins of Tulum tomorrow given its a free day.
After a long day of traveling we’re all pretty beat and head for our beds early, for us anyway!
Day 19; The Tulum Mayan Ruins
The morning finds us once again walking into town for a prearranged breakfast with those of us heading to the ruins, most of us as it turns out. A glorious free day stretches before us! The limited Spanish most of us, including myself, know proves insufficient to communicate the finer details of our order, but fortunately our French group member is far closer to fluency, even though she would deny it. The breakfast special is an omelette with a juice included and most of us order some variation of this with a coffee extra. The coffee’s ok, but I still miss Guatemalan coffee.
Most of the girls choose to hire a bicycle for the day from the hire place near our hotel, as I can’t actually ride a bike (yes I know how, it’s a brain injury/balance thing) I chose to get a taxi out to the ruins, and Fiona and Helena elected to join me. While the others arranged their bikes the three of us walked over the road in front of the hotel to the shopping centre, where we figured there would probably be somewhere we could get a taxi. The one we found quoted twenty pesos to take the three of us. While this seemed an extraordinarily good deal and we all jumped at it, by the time the taxi dropped us off he was asking us for two hundred pesos. Between the three of us it was still pretty cheap though, and we couldn’t exactly argue with him. It was just fortunate we were carrying enough cash.
In any case, we had safely arrived at the Tulum Mayan Ruins.
By this time, you’d probably think that all the ruins are starting to look pretty much the same, and to an extent you’d be right, but the Tulum ruins are unique in that they are built literally on the coastline. The ruins against the backdrop of the ocean colours makes for some spectacular photos. The city is also known as Zama, meaning dawn, so named for being one of the first places dawn breaks in Mexico. It was a commercial port for the Mayans that served as a redistribution point for products coming from Central America, the gulf and Central Mexico.
The ruins are open every day from 8am to 5pm and entry is around forty pesos. It does get pretty busy though, so best to get out ther early to beat the crowds. Waiting at the entry gate we see a group of Coati in the trees. Once inside the three of us wander our separate ways, agreeing on a meeting point for later.
Entry to the city
One of the first things I notice is that there are Iguanas, literally everywhere! Seeing these is a first for me and I regularly snap away with the camera.
While the path around the city offers many photo opportunities, none are perhaps quite so picturesque as the Temple of the Wind God standing on the edge of the cliff face. These specific temples are identifiable due to their circular shape when viewed from above, rare in Mayan architecture.
Temple of the Wind God
The Palace, so named because it was the residence of the Great Lord and his family
The Castle; the most important building in Tulum. It was once brightly painted.
Between June and October every year two species of turtle come to this beach to lay their eggs.
Pausing for a quick selfie!
After spending some time wandering Tulum, I rendezvous with Fiona and Helena and we decide to walk along the road that leads to the ruins, populated with hotel after hotel, and find somewhere to enjoy a cold drink in the heat of the afternoon. We find many of them are quite exclusive and deny us entry but finally find a glamping site. It is populated with a number of large tents for rent, and a quaint makeshift kitchen built into a hut-like structure. With no electricity, drink and food choices are limited to what can be mixed by hand or cooked over a fire. We enjoy a number of cocktails and a light meal.
Rather than get a taxi back to our hotel we decide that it didn’t really seem that far when we traveled there, and decided to walk. It took us the best part of an hour!
I pass the rest of the afternoon strolling the streets in town perusing the stores, and while I was tempted by a lovely colourful hammock the reality of transporting it home made it seem rather unpractical. I returned to the hotel empty handed.
Thinking of visiting Tulum? Check out these tips to travel Mexico on a budget!
Day 17; Quiet reflection and exploring in Caye Caulker
I am sitting on a Caribbean beach drinking a fresh orange and pineapple juice, tad early for cocktails and a tad warm for coffee, watching a white wading bird lifting its feet above the water and placing them down again, head poised to dive below the surface the moment a morsel of food catches its eye. Further out a duck like bird I think they call a Bobbin disappears entirely from view periodically as it hunts. Behind me the bars restaurant blender has started again, and the wading bird is holding its beak just barely above the water fixated on something. A couple of people are going by on stand-up paddleboards about 100m out. I may give that a go this afternoon. There’s a kayaker out there too.
The temperature is pleasant in the shade of the palms and a fresh breeze is wandering through. Out in the open the full strength of the sun hits with force and with my skin I can’t venture out for long without drenching myself in suncream. A day spent in the sun yesterday and I’m proud I escaped a burn.
Today is our last day on this idyllic patch of paradise, we leave Belize to return to Mexico tomorrow. Tulum is our next destination. It’s been nice to have the extra day somewhere, today is a free day and I’m relishing the chance for a relaxed wander and some time for myself, hard to come by traveling with a group of people. I have been away 16days, or 17 if you count the going backwards in time, so I am approaching the halfway mark of my trip. The extra day has also been good for getting some washing done, I was out of shirts. I have what I need to wash in the rooms, but most of the rooms haven’t had space for drying and none of them have had a plug for the sink.
The Split
I’ve walked the length of one side of the island this morning, up to a spot they call The Split – or a gap between two spots of land. One of our group asked our guide yesterday whether you could swim across but it’s the channel for all the boat traffic so you would be asking for trouble to try it. It is one of the main beach spots on the island, and there were maybe thirty people in total scattered around or in the water, including a couple from my group. A few of the others have hired a bike for the morning and another couple are on foot exploring.
The motto here is go slow, everyone says it and many eateries around have it displayed in some form. Everyone rides bikes, the only motorised vehicles are golf buggy’s which serve as the local taxis – so nothing even goes fast here, except the boats! It’s not just a saying here, it’s a way of life.
There’s a stray dog population here but it’s contained, I’ve seen the same dogs over and over. Unlike other parts we have traveled they are clearly well fed and cared for. One of my group was telling me that the whole community takes responsibility for caring for them, a local vet keeps them healthy and they desex them so the population is controlled. The dogs are a regular sight, stretched out in sun or shade or trotting around inquisitively.
As expected by the ocean the seafood is amazing. Lobster is in season and I’ve had it the last three nights. Even grilled with nothing added the meat is the most full of flavour I have ever had! I haven’t tried the prawns yet so I have just ordered a shrimp salad for lunch. When it arrives it’s basically a pile of grilled shrimp on a bed of lettuce and slaw with some onion, tomato and cucumber thrown in for good measure. But the shrimp is tasty and it’s nice to have some fresh wholesome veges. I hope the water it was washed in is safe.
Compared to Mexico and Guatemala, Belize is expensive, but compared to home it’s still cheap. A whole lobster is about $22 Australian.
I’ve never been to Jamaica, but the people here seem very much like how Jamaica is portrayed in the movies. They love to sing, and there are often voices singing various western or reggae tunes as you walk past them on the street. They sound the same, and many of the men have jet black dreadlocks that stretch down their backs.
I’ve spent the afternoon attempting to walk to the other side of the island. I say attempting because after 4.5kms in the heat of the day it didn’t seem like such a great idea anymore. And there wasn’t really much to see. After the stretch of hotels tucked away with their private beachfronts and docks, the beach becomes mangroves and scrub, and at times smelly stagnant water. There are also a number of signs advertising property for sale so if you’re looking for that holiday house…though its apparently unbearable in the summer!
Eventually I head back to the main beach thoroughfare and am content to sit and watch the world go by while sipping on a cocktail, before collecting my washing and heading back to my room to pack for tomorrow’s early departure. It’s yet another lobster for dinner – may as well take advantage while I can after all – and more cocktails naturally! We head to the sportsbar yet again, but most of us don’t stay long before we’re heading for our beds. The sun and the heat takes it out of you!
This was a relaxing and quiet day for me, but for more fun things to do in Caye Caulker you can check out other things to do in Caye Caulker, Belize.
Day 16; Snorkeling Caye Caulker with Stressless Tours
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Gearing up and setting out
Most of us turn up to the same, Dani-recommended, place for breakfast at varying times. It’s a late start this morning, we wont be departing on the boat until 10am, but before that we all have to go and take our turns at being fitted for the snorkeling gear. It’s almost my turn when they say they need cash to pay the guides, so I head back to the hotel to raid the stash of cash I have in the safe. They’ll take both US dollars and Belizean here, and to keep it easy it’s a straight 1:2 ratio, one USD to two Belizean. By the time I get back most of the group is nowhere to be seen.
Keith isn’t here, but we’re being helped by a couple of young men who we find out later are his brothers. The business is a family affair. One of them, with long black dreadlocks and gleaming teeth in a beaming smile that lights up his face introduces himself as Shane and asks me if I’ve been fitted for my snorkeling gear yet and I tell him no. He sits me down and with another flash of that smile lifts one of my legs up to rest across his knees and starts trying flippers on my foot. I find myself wondering if I remembered to shave my legs. He then proceeds to fit masks onto my face. When I bid my farewell he flashes that smile with a wink and tells me maybe he’ll see me later. These Belizean men are charming that’s for certain. I’m positive it is all part of the service, this is a tipping country after all, but I leave feeling like I’ve received a special level of treatment.
We’re all back at 10am waiting outside the office ready and are led off to the boat, which is quite literally a speedboat. Someone behind me remarked they thought Keith was joking when he said there were no toilets on board. We’re helped off the dock down into the boat in true gentlemanly fashion then told to get what we need out of our packs and pass them up to be stored in the undercover section of the boat. I’ll be testing out the new waterproof pouch for my phone today to get some photos and video. I had one already, but it was purple so the plastic tinged the images. This one is clear. I’ve put myself squarely under the roof of the boat to get as much protection from the sun as I can.
There are three guides joining us for the days snorkeling, including the dreadlocked man with the dazzling smile.
Passing through the gap between islands known as ‘The Split’
Our first stop is only a short trip away to another dock on the island with a large area of seaweed beside it, where we are pointed out a number of seahorses hanging on with their tails and bobbing around in the current. They are very light, and not strong swimmers so they always need to be holding on and they’ll be in areas of water where the waves aren’t strong. The males carry eggs deposited by a female in a pouch on their tail until they hatch.
On our way out from the seahorse dock they hover the boat over a school of large local fish called Tarpons. Unique because unlike other fish they can come to the surface to breathe in air. Some of these ones are close to a metre in size, but they grow much bigger and this part of the bay is one of their habitats. They’re not good for eating though we’re informed.
The huge Tarpons – not good eating
The Coral Garden
It’s only a short trip to our first snorkeling spot for the day; the Coral Garden, a spot teeming with fish and corals in clear blue waters. It’s time for me to try this snorkeling thing.
We’re all handed out the flippers and masks we were fitted this morning and asked if anyone isn’t a strong swimmer and wants a life jacket. Myself and a couple of the other girls raise our hands, and one of the boats jackets is tied on under our arms. One of the girls murmurs why it’s being tied on this way, I explain that if its worn as it should be it would keep us upright and we wouldn’t be able to put our faces in the water. One by one we sit on the front of the boat with our feet dangling over the water and push off. My jacket keeps me afloat when I hit, it’s like bobbing around inside a flotation ring. I’m sure I probably look ridiculous, and it’s awkward trying to swim, but at the very least I’m not going to drown.
Two of the guides are in the water with us and we are divided between them and instructed to stay close to our assigned guide. I am in Shane’s group. He tells us all that when he claps under water we are to come up so that he can speak to us. The other group have moved further away from us.
My mask is already on my face and I take a few deep breaths to steady my breathing, and put the mouthpiece in and take a few more. I tip my body forward in my jacket-ring and put my face down.
My instinct is to hold my breath rather than attempt to breathe through the mask, and my first few breaths are rapid gasps that do nothing to calm my nerves. That familiar compression commences in my chest and I fight it, forcing myself to take slow breaths. I can hear my breathing under the water as the water laps around my ears. The water is still, protected from the waves by the reef.
The water below me is full of Belize marine life. Periodically Shane claps his hands so that he can point out fish to us, including a couple of large stingrays gently traveling along the sandy floor kicking up a sandy wake. My phone turns out to be a useful focal point, giving me something to focus on instead of thinking about my panic and breathing and I find I am able to breathe almost normally. The waterproof pouch allows for great visibility, however the plastic prevents the phone from registering my touch while underwater so instead of photos I have to make do with video, starting and stopping the recordings above the water. I manage to capture a ray and a few of the local fish, I thought I got better footage of the ray but the camera didn’t record. When I lifted my head up I had swum away from the group following it. It is a stark reminder that I am in the open ocean and I need to keep my head. Shane shows us a cave under the reef and invites anyone confident to free-dive it with him.
Before too long there is water dribbling down the inside of my mask, the seal has broken. I put up with it for a while and then bob around in the water held buoyant by my jacket-ring to empty it. The fins feel ridiculously clumsy and heavy on my feet, and my ankles are sore from the unfamiliar feeling of kicking with something weighing them down. Shane notices me emptying my mask again and asks if everything is ok.
Shark Ray Alley
Even though I have my phone I’m not paying any attention to time, so I couldn’t say how long we spent snorkeling out there before we’re called back to the boat to continue on our journey. Our next stop is known as Shark Ray Alley, funnily enough named for the Sharks and Rays. It hasn’t even occurred to me to ask what Sharks are in these waters, which is probably for the best really. I don’t even ask for the life jacket this time, and I find I’m able to stay afloat without difficulty.
I cannot say if it was real, or my eyes and mind playing tricks on me in my anxious state, but when I first put my head into the water I glimpse a Hammerhead Shark. In an instant my head is back above the water frantically looking around as my brain tries to process the information. Confused, I put my head back down and look around, there is no sign of anything. I convince myself I am seeing things, though when I look it up later I find that they can be found in these waters. Disturbingly, so can Bull Sharks.
Nurse Shark
There are however, plenty of Nurse Sharks. We’re told they are bottom feeders, and certainly this is where most of them are, sifting through the sands beneath us or swimming not far above. They come nowhere near us. Several Rays slowly glide through the water. I’m still having issues with my mask leaking and Shane seems to notice every time my head comes up again. He attributes every instance to the mask, I don’t tell him that sometimes its simply because I need to check where the rest of the group are.
Hol Chan Marine Reserve
The best snorkeling in Belize is up next, the Hol Chan Marine Reserve. We’re hoping to see Manatees, which have been sighted in the area on recent trips, and a large Green Sea Turtle also often makes an appearance. When our boat arrives amongst a number of boats already moored, another guide yells out that the Belize Turtle is in the area.
All thoughts of sharks are forgotten and as soon as I’m in the water I make a beeline for where we’ve been pointed as the Turtles location. I’m still a way away from her when I see her swimming along the ocean floor, and I am single minded in my focus to get there. The camera is rolling and I capture the legs and feet of a number of snorkelers as I speed past. Seems I’m getting pretty comfortable with this snorkeling thing by now, or just determined.
What follows rates as easily one of the greatest experiences of my life. I swim until I am right above her, so close I could almost reach out and touch her. I can see the detail of her shell and her flippers slowly raising up and down again to propel her through the aqua water. She’s not fast, like she’s just out for a relaxed afternoon stroll. For about 20 seconds I swim with her, keeping her pace, watching her. There is only the sound of the water lapping around my ears and my breathing to break the underwater silence. And then I hang back, and watch her swim away, not wanting to distress her by staying too close for too long. A Nurse Shark crosses her path as she maintains her casual pace.
My mask is leaking again as I swim back to join the others and Shane sees me empty it, yet again. He pulls his own mask off and hands it to me, telling me he can’t let me not have fun. I think the issue is that the strap of mine keeps sliding on my hair, breaking the seal. The strap on Shane’s is different and it doesn’t leak.
Nonetheless I am happy to sit the next stop, another area of coral, out and happily wait on the rocking boat with a couple of the other girls who partied perhaps a little hard last night and are feeling somewhat worse for wear. The rocking of the waves isn’t helping matters.
The Sunken Barge
Our last snorkeling stop is a sunken barge, and I jump eagerly back into the water. It lies perhaps no more than a couple of metres below the surface, a rusted rectangle punctuated with holes leading into cavities below which one of the guides free dives in and out of. Its surface has become like another ocean floor, layered with sand it is dotted with seaweed dancing back and forth with the water as I swim the perimeter. There is something eerie about it, and once I have swum the perimeter I do not linger, and I return to the boat ahead of the others.
After our included lunch, and more rum punch, both of which the hungover abstain from, we make the trip back to Caye Caulker, as the snorkeling part of our day is finished. We have time to shower and freshen up before we meet back at the office for the next installment. After a day in the sun smothered in sunscreen the shower is heavenly.
Beach bonfire at sunset
For our final adventure we are loaded back on the boat and pause on the water to watch the sun as it begins to set over the ocean. The effects of light on water is one of my great photographic fascinations and I am still busily capturing the light creating silhouettes of boats when ours moves again.
The boat pulls up at wooden pier at the end of the island before dusk, with still plenty of light to see ahead of us is a small sandy beach, and beyond that a clearing with scattered palms supporting hammocks between them. A bonfire is already roaring with chairs set out around it. A rough wooden hut elevated from the ground by stilts sits to the left, a ramp leading up to what would be the doorway, if there were a door. Reggae music comes from a small Bluetooth speaker.
Beach Bonfire
We are handed cups of rum punch from a large, for want of a better word, plastic barrel, and chips complete with a ceviche served in a plastic crate I’d normally pack my camping gear in. I learn three things very quickly;
There is some sort of sandfly here and they are everywhere
They hurt!
My aeroguard and parakito band is absolutely useless against them.
The boys tell us they get better after it gets dark, and that they are worse near the trees. I move immediately into the open but it does little to curb their enthusiasm for nibbling at my feet and ankles. I don’t notice a difference immediately it gets dark either, but at some point the painful biting seems to stop.
In the darkness beyond the fire we can now see we are surrounded by tiny hovering lights that I’ve never seen before. Captain Keith confirms they are fireflies when I ask and several of us stand watching them for a time. I tried to record them but their light was too faint to distinguish from the background.
The rum punch continues to flow, my cup refilled every time it approaches the bottom, and the air is filled with laughter and chatting. We stay perhaps a couple of hours before the desire for dinner leads us back to the boats to leave the quiet serenity behind.
Serenity
I have lobster for dinner, again, still not a rival to my first two nights in Belize, and I manage to head to the sports club with the others for the grand total of about 15minutes before my day in the sun has caught up with me and I leave them to their dancing to stumble tiredly to my room.
If you are looking for Belize snorkeling excursions from Caye Caulker, Stressless Tours are definitely worth a look. They have an eco-friendly focus and are passionate about conservation and education. They’ll also take great care of you!
If something a little more daring is up your alley, you can also go scuba diving in the great blue hole.
7am that morning saw most of us, those going to the ATM cave anyway, rocking up to the restaurant where we’d had dinner with suitcases in tow and packs on backs. The restaurant is directly across from the company taking us to the cave in about 45 minutes and one by one we start piling our bags in front of Mayawalk‘s closed front door.
Compared to last nights dinner the breakfast was pretty average. The coffee even more so. I miss Guatemalan coffee.
The guides arrive as we are finishing up and a mini-bus starts reversing up the lane. They’ll drive us straight from the ATM cave to Belize City to catch the Water Taxi to Caye Caulker this afternoon. We load up our bags on the trailer and all pile in, a sea of boardshorts in anticipation of the river crossings we know we’ll be tackling this morning. At my feet are some dry clothes, and my sneakers. Something resembling crocs that we all spent ages trying on last night, await me wherever it is we’re going. They are far from a comfortable fit but were the best I could find, a choice I hope I am not suffering for later.
We aren’t allowed to take anything into the ATM cave with us, phones and cameras included. About five years ago one of the tourist visitors to the cave dropped her camera. Not much of an issue you might think, except it landed on the skull of one of the skeletons inside the cave. It survived a thousand years or so, until modern technology punched a hole through it. I wonder if the she felt bad about that, or if it was treated with a modern nonchalance. They tell us the ATM cave was closed for years after that to protect it, but they eventually decided it was too important a site not to share and it was reopened. Now you can’t take in anything that could be dropped.
Part of our package includes a stock set of photos that we are allowed to use on social media. Not as artistic as the ones I might have taken myself perhaps, testing out the new waterproof pouch for my phone, but them’s the breaks. Pardon the pun.
About an hour, and many digs at last nights karaoke stars who had outed themselves and each other over the grumbles and laughter at breakfast, we pulled up to the beginning of the trail. Here there is shelter, toilets and running water. The last we will see for a while once we depart for the ATM cave so naturally it is where we all head. Then comes the business of getting geared up. We all find our croc-shoes and are dispensed life jackets and helmets. The law prescribes that there has to be a maximum of eight guests with each guide, so we are split between two of them, and three Canadians join my group. The guide has an accent but his English is good. He looks like the actor Pete Postlethwaite and this is all I can think of when I look at him. Only a small number of people are approved to be guides for this site.
Trekking to Actun Tunichil Muknal
ATM stands for Actun Tunichil Muknal, meaning The Cave of the Crystal Sepulchre. It is under a mountain in the Tapir Mountain Nature Reserve and is a famous Mayan archaeological site containing both artefacts and a number of skeletons within its chambers. I have no watch and my phone is waiting back at the van so there is no way to know how much time passes hiking through the jungle. According to internet sources it is about an hour but it doesn’t feel anything like that long. The trek includes three river crossings, each with a rope strung across the flowing water to hold or pull yourself along if needed. I wade into the beginning of the first but it quickly becomes evident that it is going to be too deep so I tuck my water bottle in the front of my life jacket and go for it. The life jacket proves to be an impediment to effective movement so the rope turns out to be quite useful. Halfway across my water bottle shoots up out of my jacket with its desire to float, fortunately it is fixed by carabiner to one of the straps otherwise it would have been bobbing off on an adventure downstream. The water is cool but refreshing and not at all unpleasant in the warmth of the morning. The holes in the shoes mean that water passes straight out so it is only my socks squelching underfoot. However it also means that the small pebbles and sand of the riverbed are let in, and they don’t pass through so easily.
The next two river crossings are ankle to shin depth, though we’re all drenched now anyway so it didn’t really matter. I’ve been chatting to the Canadians about the property market in Australia of all things. One of the women is older, she’s traveling with her son and another female companion. I never caught any of their names.
The cave of the Crystal Sepulchre
Eventually we reach a clearing with a couple of permanent shelters erected. Pete gestures to the bushes where a short distance away we can see the mountain within which is the entrance to the ATM cave. He tells us to leave behind our water bottles to retrieve upon exit. My bottle is not a disposable one like some of the others so I place it between some tree roots where I hope it will be concealed from view. Pete points to some more bushes, telling us they are the lava-trees with a chuckle at his own joke. When no one takes him up on the invitation he leads us to the mouth of the ATM cave.
Someone must keep it cleared, it isn’t hard to imagine the foliage taking over if left untended for a time, concealing the entry from view. It is dark and uninviting, as most caves are I suppose. A stream flows out into a pool which our path leads into. Pete tells us that at some times of the year the ATM cave is dry throughout. As we find, in January there is plenty of water. We all switch on our head lamps in readiness and led by Pete we all wade through the pool and clamber over some rocks just inside the entrance. Then its time to swim.
The pool leads us around the corner from the entrance, and the light from outside no longer reaches us. A fact demonstrated by Pete when he tells us all to stand still and switch off our lamps. We are instantly plunged into a darkness so thorough I cannot even see my hand in front of my face. Pete apparently has spare batteries if anyone’s lamp dies. On cue we all turn our lamps back on and follow him along the sandy floor. So far so good.
Hours pass inside that place and I cannot say how far we traveled nor how deep. Parts we swim, parts we walk or wade, and parts we climb. The climbing doesn’t phase me, my rock climbing experience comes in handy in picking the best routes over the obstacles. Being towards the back for much of the time I find Pete is excellent at guiding you over when up front near him, but those at the back are largely left to find their own way. On a number of occasions I felt the pressure of multiple people following behind me, and no ones example to follow in front. The exception was the final climb into the upper chamber, where Pete, perched on a rock gave instructions where each foot should be placed to safely reach the top. My height and climbing experience meant I did this with ease.
However, I struggled in the tight passages, feeling the air and the rocks a suffocating atmosphere around me. One part of the passage was named the Decapitation, a narrow passage between rocks wide enough for a neck to pass through. You had to go through with your body underneath and head above and slide your neck in between, holding your life jacket down and out of the way to leave enough space. After demonstrating Pete was on the other side encouraging us through. I slid through painfully slow, holding onto my life jacket as I tried to breathe slowly and controlled, feeling the rock against the front of my neck. Relaying it now people ask me why, if there’s room for your body underneath, you wouldn’t just go under completely. In dry periods you probably could, however the rock meets the water, and if your buoyancy vest is functional then you wouldn’t be able to get down enough into the water to move under it. Guess you trust that someone who does it every day knows the way it needs to be done. I’m not looking forward to tackling it again on the way back.
At several points through the trek we pause for Pete to show us earthenware left and explain the Mayan ceremony they were used for. They are all broken, not by time but by the Mayan themselves, as they believed if left complete they could house souls and spirits. The Maya used caves because they believed it brought them closer to the gods and some relics are well beyond the reach of the light. They feared to come so deep believing it the gateway to the underworld, that they came so far into the ATM cave speaks of the seriousness of the rituals and their increasing desperation. Many date back to the same time when changed weather patterns prevented the Maya from cultivating the crops required to feed their population, and the rituals were likely praying to the gods to bring them rain. It must have been terrifying to venture down here with only the light of a burning torch as a guide, without the knowledge of where the next footstep might land.
Our foray culminates within the upper chamber, where we must remove our shoes to walk on designated points of the rocks in only our socks to prevent damaging the cave floor. Despite the huge expanse of the chamber and its high ceiling, the air is stifling and thick and one of our group borders on panic saying she can’t breathe. I’m struggling myself but helping to calm her gives me something to focus on instead. One of my shoes has been painfully compressing a toenail since early in the cave, and it is somewhat of a relief to remove the pressure.
The Belize Crystal Maiden
The cave also contains a number of skeletons, more than what we are shown but we see a few of them. Several are children, while some of the Mayan skulls belong to those from noble birth, demonstrated by their flattened foreheads. We squeeze through some passages and past groups coming the other way to reach the most famous and spectacular, the Crystal Maiden, from which the cave derives its name. Her skeleton is complete, still laid in the same position in which she died, encrusted with calcite over a thousand years to give her a crystalline appearance. She was believed to be twenty years old, and was sacrificed to appease the gods. It’s a pretty amazing thing to be looking at in that deep, dark place within the earth and I am grateful for the experience, but I can’t wait to get into the sunlight again and breathe air carried on the wind instead of trapped under a mountain. So I am happy when we turn back to start the trek out. I have no idea how long we have been in the dark.
Much of the path back looks unfamiliar, its hard to get the full picture of a place by the light of a few head lamps, so there is no retracing my steps across the rocks when there is no one in front to follow. At one point I know we deviate onto a different route, a narrow passage just wide enough for us to bob along sideways in the water, our hand pressed against the rock to keep moving. I don’t recognize the decapitation from the other side when we get to it, and I can’t see how to get through, trying multiple times to angle my head or squeeze myself under with increasing panic and desperation to get out. Finally I throw my hands up in defeat and refusal and push myself back in the water to let others pass, trying to calm my breathing and heart. I watched how the others did it and attempted it again after a few others had gone through, this time the older Canadian woman was nearby encouraging me softly and I was relieved to reach the other side.
It all looks different coming from the other direction, and I am surprised at how soon I turn a corner in the water to find the light streaming ahead and scramble up the rocks to stand on solid ground in the open air. The pain in my toe makes it hard not to limp and I fall further and further behind on the hike back to the starting point, wondering what creatures might leap from the jungle path to ambush a solitary walker. By the time I make it back there is a shower free into to which I eagerly leap. My toe is red and swollen down to the first knuckle, it seems the shoe has been bending it backwards.
On to Caye Caulker
The included lunch is tasty, if somewhat hurried due to our appointment with this afternoons water taxi. We’ve been gone over four hours. We’re ushered into our bus to commence our journey to Belize City. We arrive a little before 4pm, Dani had arrived shortly before on the public bus with the member of our group that didn’t come to the ATM cave. With some time to kill before the taxi we sit down at a café in the terminal and I order a coffee, but their machine isn’t working. It seems like a good time to start drinking and I order a cocktail which, by the time it arrives I have to gulp down in order to head to the boat.
Most of the group heads upstairs, but I’m happy on the open part of the lower level where I can watch Belize City disappear into the distance behind us as the sun sets over it. I’ve learned from our last trip on a boat and my jumper is tied around my waist. It’s not long before I’ve put it on. It takes about 45 minutes to get to Caye Caulker. By the time we arrive dusk has set in and we send our bags ahead on a taxi and walk the sandy street to our hotel. I take note of the laundry service we pass on the way. No doubt we’ll all be visiting there tomorrow, myself included.
There is time to freshen up before we meet in the hotel lobby for a briefing on the optional activity for tomorrow, another one which fills me with trepidation which I am still undecided upon. Dani introduces us to Captain Keith.
Keith has a boundless energy and enthusiasm for his island and its surrounding water habitats, and it is impossible not to be drawn in by the musical lilt of his speech, though the speed with which he talks and his accent mean everyone is only catching every few words, but we’re carried along anyway. His company, Stressless Tours, does the approach to the local snorkeling trip a little differently to other vendors on the island. Instead of a big sailing boat, pretty but slow, meaning we’ll only see one or two of the spots the area has to offer, we’ll be on a speedboat, meaning we can cover off all the local marine sites of interest. He also has a beachfront property, and offers a sunset bonfire on his private beach with plenty of rum punch to go around.
I have never been a strong swimmer, and didn’t even learn to swim until I was an older child. And I’ve never been able to swim with my head under water. I’ve tried, but something happens and I am unable to regulate my breathing and match it to the rhythm of the strokes, culminating in hyperventilation and breathing in water. I swim freestyle, but my head stays above water. At some point snorkeling had the same effect, which degenerated into a sense of complete panic at trying to breathe through the tube with control. The thought of being in open water terrified me.
But I was charmed, and it sounded like an experience that would be a shame to miss out upon. And I liked their sustainable, eco-friendly business model. I resolved to try, even if it meant that I only spent the day on the boat. I handed over my deposit to Keith.
Dani took us to a busy place for dinner and many of us ordered the lobster, including myself naturally. It took its time arriving, but it was worth it. It was only grilled, but the meat was the most flavourful I could remember having in my life. I was hard pushed to make a decision which was better, this or last nights.
All around the restaurant visitors have graffitied the paintwork of the walls and beams of the building. Someone asks for a marker which is then waved around waiting for someone to volunteer. When no one takes it I grab it and stand on the seat to leave our mark on a blank space of a beam supporting the corrugated iron roof. The marker is crap, sinking into the layers of paint rather than smoothly writing upon them and I have to go over and over each stroke for the writing to show up, carved into the paint. I write the name of our tour and each of our names. I wish I’d taken a photo, I couldn’t even tell you where it was.
Somewhere, in a beachside restaurant in Caye Caulker Belize, is a beam with my name on it.
After dinner we ended up in the local sports club, cramped and full of people as it seems to be the only place to party on the island. It is the birthday of one of our group and she’s pulled up to dance with some guy, and later invited to walk along the bar pouring shots into the upturned mouths of the waiting crowd, myself included. Well it seems to be a trip for trying new things, may as well add that to the list!
