Day 598
Belize
After three and a half months we were leaving Mexico. We were ready to go. It had been awesome. The welcome in Mexicali, the Baja with it's weird and wonderful cacti, desert, volcanic remains, beaches, and endless sun, riding with Isabel. Then the mainland, the stunning riding up, over the through the spine of the devil. Christmas in Puerto Vallarta with family and 3 weeks off the bike. More climbing, endless dirt roads through tiny villages, the music, fireworks, wild dogs chasing us. Taco after taco and yet more tacos. Wild camps, hostels and hotels with bucket showers. Then into the jungle and stunning Mayan architecture. Friendly drivers, small motorbikes carrying whole families or pets, and even sheep! The people, oh my, they will remain in our hearts forever. All those thousands who shouted out encouragement, the drivers who tooted their horns, slowed down and waited until clear to pass, or even drove behind us to keep us safe. The motorcyclist who stopped halfway up a steep hill, struggling to keep his bike upright, so he could stand between us and two wild dogs, families who made us welcome in their home, Claudia who saved us when we were frightened, Carlos, who spent hours of his time sorting our problems because as he said, ‘we are friends’ despite meeting him just the day before. Marietta who stopped to give me a hug, I could go on. Mexico, you’ve been special.
But onwards we must go, and next Belize.
A final 85 miles to the border, and we would be on our way. Except we managed to get the wrong border crossing, got stuck in no-man’s land, and had to go through Mexican customs before we could leave for the correct crossing. We were called to a halt, ‘no cycling allowed’, we had to cross in a car! Seriously? We stood, whilst the guard made endless calls, and eventually he grew bored and let us go. Maybe Mexico didn’t want us to leave.
Finally, we were in Belize. The headwind came with us, but fewer dogs, less people and shops. Still quiet roads, an unwise short cut, and just 50 miles later we reached out first stop. Casa Ricky’s hostel in Orange Walk. We shared a room with Vicky, forever to be known as ‘Peanut butter Vicky’. We’ve eaten endless fry jacks, joined Vicky in drinking a fair bit of rum and spent two days relaxing. Tomorrow, we explore more of Belize. Vicky’s gone, but maybe Tom and I will have another drop of that awesome coconut rum!
