Epilogue - Sanctuary Belize Private Beach

So that's it! I'm done!

Back to work next week and goodness know how long before I'm able to take on another adventure on this scale.

I've thought a lot about how to end this blog. I've been accused at times of being too graphic in my language, too crude and too boring on occasion. 

So I didn't want to end with anything boring, nor did I want to offend anyone with graphic or crude language. 

That has left me pondering how best to close affairs.

Travelling has afforded me a freedom of expression that I never felt able to explore fully at home and these blog posts have, I think, been a conduit for sharing that to a small but loyal readership. 

I think the day at Sanctuary Belize, standing on a beach that I part own, allowed me to express myself to the full. Thankfully that was captured in picture form and I therefore feel able to share that moment without fear of criticism over language and will worry about it being boring as a separate issue. 

It's been emotional. 

Day 36 - Belize (Caye Caulker)

We set off again today, heading north back along the hummingbird highway, through Belmopan, into Belize City and after dropping off the car, caught a boat to Caye Caulker.

Today we passed a bunch of beardy Mennonites but photos were not allowed by my travelling companion. Something about them not being zoo animals. 

Driving through Belize City was quite an experience. Imagine a micro-Calcutta with coconuts and you're in the right ball park. Now I think about it, the resemblance to Bracknell is striking. The socio-economic profile is comparable, the taste for nylon sportswear is identical and the number of police per capita is disproportionate to the rest of the country. I felt quite at home there. 

There are thousands of cayes of the coast of Belize, some mere patches of sand with a few palms, some developed with high end resorts or private villas. By far the largest and most commercial is Ambergris Caye. Stuffed full of American and Canadian tourists on their jollies and the flavour of the island reflects North American tastes. We've been there and liked it but wanted something different and less McAmerican this time around.

Caye Caulker is the much smaller, backpackers Caye of choice, just south of Ambergris. It tends to draw a youthful crowd on the whole. It also hosts the occasional ex-backpacker plus companion in one of the few upmarket hotels on offer. 

Caye Caulker is also the last stop on my travels.

And this will be my last official blog. Look out for the 'DVD Extras' blog posted alongside this for all those brave souls who have stuck with it until the end.

I'm taking a final couple of well earned days off from blogging and enjoying the last couple of days in privacy. There is a high chance of shark swimming, nice food and a bit of beach time thrown in but you'll have to see me if you want any detail on that.

Caye Caulker - Backpacker heaven.

A little misunderstanding at hotel check-in resulted in a hard negotiated upgrade to the penthouse apartment. And today's towelarami is......Swans! 

Given the state of Belizean football, we both fancied our chances of being picked for the national team and have started practicing our anthem stance. 

Day 35 - Belize (Placencia)

I neglected to mention that we're actually staying in a small town down the road from Sanctuary Belize for a couple of days called Placencia. The town is actually in the Guiness Book of Records for having the narrowest Main Street in the world (see pic below). Other than that, it's renown for its resort and boutique hotels (including one owned by Francis Ford Coppola) and laid back backpacker hostels. There's not much in the middle ground really. Placencia is strung out along a long thin peninsula a little south of Sanctuary Belize and once you get past that, southern Belize gets very sparsely inhabited indeed, even by Belizean standards. Diving here is supposed to be great but I haven't had the time and there are numerous cayes offshore, including the private one that I mentioned yesterday 😉

Because we are both true adventurers, we headed straight for the same beach bar that we visited the last time we were here and sat there until mildly sloshed. Actually, it's changed quite a bit, so it was both comfortingly familiar and new and fresh at the same time.

I haven't done a hotel review for a long time now, .......so for one final time;

Roberts Grove Boutique Hotel - Placencia 

Accommodation - 5 filet mignon 

The lounge is a little on the poky side, the in-room wine selection a touch limited and the veranda only has furniture for six between the two of us, but to mark them down on these small points seems churlish. 

My bed could have easily accommodated 8 people alone. 

Facilities - 5 filet mignon

The three swimming pools are largely empty and inviting but they seem to have removed the beach jacuzzi that I remember from last time. Dive shop, kayaks, bicycles, beach bars, all the usual amenities are but a flip flop stride from the villa. 

Restaurants - 5 filet mignon

The beach restaurant is excellent. I heartily recommend the lobster fritters with piquant cayenne dip in particular. The Belizian restaurant to the rear is untried but looks good. Beer on draught, which is unheard of in Central America. Breakfast was disappointingly short on marmite but otherwise, superb. 

Location - 5 filet mignon

About five steps from the gently lapping Caribbean. Literally. What else do you want? 

Value - unrated

Best not talk about the price. 

Overall - 5 filet mignon

It was very nice, very boutiquey, and very Caribbean. Almost rustic in some ways but with more than a touch of class.

The view from the veranda.

Every effort was made to use all available furniture. 

The narrowest Main Street in the world.

An menacing pink sundown.

The Tipsy Turtle appetiser plate x2. Tostadas, sliders and wings, plus fully loaded fries (never heard of that before but I wasn't complaining). Burp! Urgh. I feel fat again!

Day 34 - Belize (Sanctuary Belize)

So today brings us to the primary reason for being in this part of Belize, a trip to a developing resort called, Sanctuary Belize. SB is a high end tourist spot with its own beach, equestrian centre, 12,000 acre nature reserve, a private island for owners use, large marina, private airstrip, organic farm, houses, cabanas, etc. etc. etc. It's still very much a work in progress and progress in Belize is notoriously slow. Still, enough Americans and Canadians have invested here to offer some comfort around its long term future. It's in a great spot and with an international airport promised nearby (isn't there always?) which would open the country up to direct European flights, so prospects for Sanctuary Belize are good.

I will admit to having more than a casual interest in this place. My companion and I made a small investment here the last time we visited Belize and we were keen to see how things had been progressing. Actually, I'll come clean, I just wanted to lie on a beach that I owned a little bit of. So it was a shameless ego trip as much as anything. Not something I can feel very proud about but I TOOK A STROLL ALONG MY OWN CARIBBEAN BEACH!!! HOW COOL IS THAT??? I never really expected to be able to say that, so I've taken the opportunity to say it and beg the forgiveness of the reader for the outrageous indulgence. 

In any event, they'd made better progress than we had expected and there are a bunch of people now living there full time, lazing in the sun and basically living a pretty comfortable and relaxed life. Which is nice. 

http://sanctuarybelize.com

Marina nearing completion 

Beach bar area

Exclusive beach

One of the occupied houses

Pre-dinner drinks in tonight's 5* resort. I hope to god there aren't any 6 or 7* resorts in Belize. We are upgrading at an alarming and wallet busting rate. A beer here costs more than a hostel stay in Nicaragua!

Day 33 - Belize (Hopkins)

Today we hired a car. The idea was to drive right through the centre of Belize on jungle roads and down to the south eastern coast to a village called Hopkins.

Hopkins is the cultural centre for the Garifuna ethnic group. Belize is incredibly culturally diverse - a product of its fascinating history. There is a large Mayan contingent (obviously) Honduran immigrants, Guatemalan labourers (Belizian Poles if you will), a sizeable Mennonite community (Amish-like agriculturists and builders with a German heritage who shun modern technology), Creoles (from the Caribbean islands), and Mexicans up north, where Spanish is now becoming the first language. 

Anyway, the Garifuna are a part of this big melting pot. They descend from Nigerian slaves who were shipwrecked on St Vincent in 1635 and because they weren't terribly cooperative, having decided to throw their lot in with the French, got deported by the British. Only after thousands had died on route, the survivors arrived in Belize and today, continue to preserve their traditions in and around the Hopkins and Dangriga area.

How about that? Some actual facts and some history too! I had a good chat with a Garifuna guy who told me a bit about their community in Hopkins, their language (he spoke to me in Creole English but they have a dialect between themselves that is unintelligible to outsiders) and how fiercely proud they are to be Garifuna. 

After the not unexpected uncertainty over whether we'd actually booked a car, where we were supposed to pick it up and what it would actually look like, we finally found and jumped in our jalopy and set off down the Hummingbird Highway. There are only four paved roads in Belize and this was one. It's kinda like their M1. All other roads are just dirt track.

I was driving and I'll admit to being slightly apprehensive about sitting behind the wheel of an unfamiliar car, in a country with a poor reputation for road discipline, which had the steering wheel on the wrong side, which was manual (I own an automatic) in sandals, after three months of not driving. I decided to not tell the car hire guy about any of this and anyway, it was fine after about five minutes. 

The journey itself was a complete joy. One of the most pleasurable drives I can remember. 

We wound our way through orange groves, which were being harvested by Guatemalans. We passed long lines of lorries heaving with the sunshine fruit beginning their own long journey to Miami. We travelled through mahogany and teak plantations, the latter taking a mere 35 years to reach maturity, the former, only coming to full growth after 75 years and grown for the benefit of some lucky Belizian grandchild or other. We traversed vast tropical valleys and thick mountain jungle along the largely deserted main artery in Belize and both thoroughly enjoyed it. It was a genuine mini adventure. 

Although our destination was Hopkins, we decided to stop off in the largest town in the area, Dangriga. Dangriga it turns out has little to recommend it. Hopkins lies a few miles south off the main road and several miles down a dusty track. It's partly a backpacker haven and partly a resort hotel town. Now that I'm travelling in company, I have been persuaded to accept a higher than average checkout bill. So resort hotel it was. And very nice it was too. 

With characteristic honesty, my companion pointed out yesterday that the balance between brown and silver hair on my head has shifted since travelling and it's not been in favour of brown. This is in part due to the sun, part because my hair is longer at the moment and it shows more but mostly because of the Georgian homestay I think. In any event, I don't mind. It makes me look more intelligent than I really am, it marks me out as a grown up, which I am, and it prevents young people talking to me. So it's all good. 

In a rare moment of sensitivity, he avoided commenting on the bit at the back of my head which has refused to produce as much hair as it ought since I reached 40. For some reason, all the energy that used to go into hair production on the back of my head has been redirected to my nose. This affliction I am less happy with and blame my father for. I imagine my travels have done nothing to promote further growth up top but as I can't see it I'm not sure what has been going on. The fewer reminders of what might have happened up there, the better. 

Rush hour on the Hummingbird Highway

Check out the towel monkey!

Day 32 - Belize (Teakettle)

This post is entitled, 'Indiana Penn And The Cave of Doom'

Went for a bit of a stroll in the jungle today with my new travel companion and a local guide by the name of Lenny. 

I ought to make it clear that we're currently in West Belize, one of the Jungley bits. And when I say jungle, I mean JUNGLE with a capital 'JU'. Our guide informed us that we were in a place where roam deadly Vipers, Jaguars, Pumas, Tapirs and Botflies (they're the ones that burrow into yourskin, lay eggs and then all the baby Botflies crawl out when you're sat in a meeting back at work three weeks later). Actually, in the end, we didn't see any of those and only managed to catch sight of some Leafcutter Ants, a Millipede and a badly wounded Stick Insect. Anyway, that wasn't why we were in the jungle. We were trekking to a cave, Actun Tunichil Muknal.

The journey involved wading through three rivers, avoiding leeches, up hill, down dale and learning from Lenny that the Belize Army plan for the defence of Belize against Guatemala was basically, try and stay on their feet for 24 hours before being overrun and hope that the UK manages to get the Paras over in time to save the day. 

When we got to the cave, it really was right out of an Indiana Jones movie. One has to swim in through the entrance before wading through shallows, then over jagged rock and into the bowels. So Lenny, Short Round and I dove in and got cracking. I won't describe the journey in any detail but in the two and a half hours we were underground, we spent about an hour and a half in the water, and an hour cave climbing. Most of the cave climbing had to be barefoot for the following reason; This is a largely  untouched Mayan ritual cave, with very delicate pottery and assorted artefacts barely a few inches away from where one was putting ones foot. There was a bit of archaeologists tape signalling the finds but it was very easy to overstep the mark and do damage, so bare feet rather than clompy boots required. The cave system was gigantic and goes on for about 5km in total although we only did the Mayan bit which was about 1000m in. 

The whole thing was completely surreal, to be inches from artefacts that had lain in the same place for 1500 years, untouched and until recently, unseen. It felt like a huge privilege to be there. There were a bunch of skeletons dotted about they having been sacrificed well over a millennia ago That was truly spooky. 

The return journey was again, cave swimming, wading, climbing etc. it got so tight at one point, that you had to squeeze your neck through a gap that would foil 95% of Americans. It was called the self decapitation point. If I'd tried it a couple of months ago, I might not have made it! 

I wouldn't say that it was the most strenuous day I've had. Anyone with a moderate level of fitness and thin neck could do it. The trek there and back was pretty straightforward too. It does require a bit of get up and go though. Wading through rivers is chilly, swimming in a cave is not difficult but occasionally uncomfortable, cave climbing isn't dangerous but you have to pay attention. Plus you're soaking wet for hours. Personally, I completely LOVED the experience. I did get a bit lost in my own world of Mayan booby traps, ducking from imaginary poisoned darts and fleeing from illusory rolling boulders etc. but that's just my overactive imagination trying to make my life more exciting that it really is. 

Once back in the open, it was a trek back to the start point, dripping wet, for a packed lunch from the lodge of cheese and tomato sandwiches, crudités, boiled eggs with salt and pepper and homemade syrup cake. All washed down with lashings of ginger beer. 

If you take diving out of the mix, today was up there as one of the best days, with horse riding up a volcano. Big grins all round today. 

P. S. I made up the ginger beer bit - but it would have been highly appropriate. 

The site is SO culturally significant and fragile, no cameras have been allowed in since 2012. So I've had to use three internet pictures for the first time in my blog. You wouldn't get it if I just used words. I've also stuck a few in from yesterday to make up for that.

Yesterday in the jungle

New team member wondering where his valet has got to. 

Posh jungle lodge

Lizard in the lounge plus enjoying an iced jungle G&T. 

Day 31 - Belize (Teakettle)

Ok, heads up people, I'm a big fan of Belize and I've been looking forward to this bit of the trip so don't expect any objectivity in these posts whatsoever.

Let's start with a bit on Belize itself. British Honduras until independence in 1981, Belize is a downright cracking place to be if you're an English speaker in Central America. The only country with English as a first language and a parliamentary democracy to boot. All the essential ingredients for a stable and civilised society. So civilised is Belize, that they have a Harrier GR3 jump jet parked right outside their international airport as a sign to any arriving tourist that they have been on the right side for a large part of their recent history and that visitors have nothing to fear. 

Although their currency is the Belizian Dollar, it has the queens head on it, marking it out as a stable and attractive thing to carry in your pocket. 

Pound for pound, Belize is the most sparsely populated country on planet earth. The size of Wales, it has around 250,000 inhabitants. The capital, Belmopan, has a modest 18,000 residents, the size of a large village in the UK. Belize City boasts more (65,000) but I'd be surprised if it matches the size of Bracknell.  Thems the conurbations, most towns of note are barely worth the name. 

Guatemala has been pursuing a territorial claim on Belize since the 1940's, declaring it the 23rd Guatemalan State. It even has a seat for Belize in its government chambers which has never been occupied. Her Majesty's Government and the Government of Belize take a somewhat different view on this matter. 

What all that means is you've got a pretty clean environment in which to explore. And the simply brilliant news is that I now have a new, slightly pasty, travelling companion from home to explore with. I flew into Phillip Goldson international airport from Roatan early this morning and three hours later a very old friend from the UK joined me for the last week or so of travelling. 

For a change, he'd done some planning and we jumped into a mini-bus for a trip up country and into the Belizian jungle. Two hours later and we were in our lodge looking out over the tree canopy and listening to the sounds of the wild. Quite a nice change of pace to not have to think about travel and accommodation, just for once. 

The lodge itself is several steps up from my recent standard and a welcome improvement! Aside from the very comfortable surroundings, we've got humming birds flitting around the place, I've seen fireflies sparking on the evening breeze, heard howler monkeys trumpeting their presence, bats swooping and chittering in the night sky and the constant clicking and scratching of tropical insects just to let you know that the jungle is ever alive. 

We've got a couple of things we want to do here tomorrow but after settling in, we went for a walk in the jungle to acclimatise. Within less than an hour walking through the jungle, I managed to get bitten by every mosquito within five miles. And it bloody hurts! 

Flying over the second largest barrier reef in the world, on the approach to Belize City.

Every UK airport should have one.

The main road in the capital, Belmopan.

OUCH!!!

Day 30 - Honduras (Roatan)

Well that's it for Utila. I've stayed there waaaaay longer than I intended. That's probably the best measure of how much I've enjoyed my time here. My last night on the island was suitably entertaining and surprisingly emotional.

I haven't done this a great deal in posts but I would like to offer public thanks to Tara, Steve, Ernie, Foster, Pete and best wishes to everyone at Gunters Dive Shop for an incredible bunch of days learning how to dive and drink.

I caught a charter boat from Utila to Roatan early this morning in advance of a flight from there to Belize City on Sunday morning. $50 for the boat trip, which wasn't too bad. 

I finished an eleven volume alternate history on the American Civil War this week and I'm soooooo annoyed with the author! It's taken me since Burma to get through this! He telegraphed the ending about five books in and had no twists of surprises in the final SIX books!! What a waste of my time! Harry Turtledove, you tit! I'm too loyal. It's a treasured gift and a curse.

I'm beginning to come to the end of my travels but I still have Belize to go. I have high hopes that Belize will provide a suitable climax to my break and that will be reflected in the posts left to come I trust.

Day 30 - Honduras (Roatan) mostly spent detoxing and lazing about. 

West End, Roatan. not too shabby!?

Pelican

Day 25 - Honduras (Utila)

I was sitting at dinner last night and everything started to sway - I'd only had one bottle of beer - and I realised that my inner ears were still on the boat! It's really quite freaky to realise that you've turned into a salty old sea dog after a just short week on the / under the water. 

Today I saw a stingray up real close, about a couple of metres and coming directly at me. Such a graceful thing. I also saw a trigger fish which has teeth that can bite right through coral. Again, just a few feet away. I undertook a wreck dive at 100ft in the morning, which was just awesome. I also had my first experience of running out of air and had to run off an auxiliary tank for a bit. It all sounds rather dramatic but standard procedure for greedy air hoggers like me. I haven't experienced narcosis yet but am looking forward to my first time with that enormously. 

I also realised today that George Lucas must be a diver. Most things underwater look like they've come from the Mos Eisley Cantina on Tatooine. The fish varieties with eyes on stalks are a particular favourite of mine. The whole thing has made me smile - and nearly drown myself - on several occasions. 

Travellers tip: don't try and survive on shaving oil when on the road, I have for the past fortnight and the fact is, it stinks and doesn't work very well. You need to shave if you're diving to make sure the seal between mask and face works properly. Shaving oil is compact but it gums up your razor, blunting everything and because it doesn't really work, you end up cutting yourself repeatedly every morning. I currently look like I've had a pane of glass shatter in my face at a distance of three inches and it bloody hurts to boot. I took the step of buying a can of foam today and am looking forward to lathering up properly in the morning. 

I'll make this the last fishy post for a while. It's getting a bit samey which is something I wanted to avoid. And if I've started to talk about shaving then I'm obviously running out of things to say. My time in Utila is coming to an end soon so I'll take a... shall we say couple of days break? And I'll be back with something different and interesting to share then. 

Day 24 - Honduras (Utila)

I've not got an awful lot of news today so it's a bit all over the place.

Today has been another diving day and I think I'm beginning to get the hang of it. My instructors and buddies no longer drag me around on a bit of string worrying over whether I've remembered to breathe at some point in the last minute or so. So that's encouraging. I seem to be able to stay in roughly the same place without flapping my arms as if trying to fly and my ears appear to be acclimatising much better than they were. The only minor mishap today was when someone made me laugh, ruining the face to mask seal that I'd carefully suctioned together, letting in several gallons of water. Still, my training paid off and I recovered the situation while muttering, 'must not laugh too much when diving' over and over in my head. 

The celebrity appearances today included;

Two sea turtles, one of whom I followed in his slipstream for a bit (he's a much better swimmer than me). They were both utterly utterly brilliant. Some puffer fish, a couple of very large lobsters, a lion fish, a stunning trunk fish, needle fish and a very nice flappy stingray. I don't have to highlight that these were just the ones that stick out do I? The sea is blummin teeming with all sorts, the above are just the ones I remember. 

Because I'm generally a quiet chappie and tend to keep my mouth shut in new social circumstances and because my skin tone has darkened a tiny smidge since arriving in Central America, people have begun to make some interesting assumptions about my origin. I've been variously asked if I am Australian, South African, Italian (by an Italian guy), Argentinian (by a German woman) and Greek by someone who was obviously visually impaired. I've found it all rather amusing really. Once formal introductions are made I am generally quite sociable although that can get quite draining after long periods. At least everyone knows I'm British by then and accepts any late night reserve without question. ...Unless it's a bender night, in which case I get all excited and talkative and moan at everyone wanting to go to bed so early. 

As a special favour to a cheeky young scamp to whom I am related because he asked for them and because I don't have any other new pictures from today, here are a couple of extra fishy/coraly pics. 

Possibly a porcupine fish but there's some debate in the bar over that one.

Needle fish.

Day 23 - Honduras (Utila)

This post is entitled, 'Me'. For reasons that I am unable to explain fully, I feel strangely uninhibited and unchained in my approach to posting at the moment. So I will reveal a little more about myself than usual.

I do wonder from time to time if people get bored of these blogs. I try to change things around, tone, subject, information (or mis-information), to keep them fresh. Sometimes it feels like it works, sometimes less so. I hope they are not too samey. That would certainly be boring wouldn't it? Anyway, if anyone has any feedback or suggestions on what works and what doesn't, shout (a few people close to me have offered some... perhaps I ought to say, 'thoughts' on on bits that don't hit the mark - and some that do to be fair - which is always interesting to hear. 

Wasn't it Jean Paul Sartre who said, 'I am what I am'? Or was it Gloria Gaynor? It doesn't matter, the point is, I make no apology for using my own words to describe my journey but I hope there's something for everyone thrown into the mix. 

I've been listening to West Coast Hair Metal almost constantly since arriving in Utila. If you're looking for a reference point on that, Aerosmith is a reasonable proxy. For anyone more music savvy, there's been more than a small dose of Poison, Mötley Crüe, Van Halen, L.A. Guns and Guns & Roses have contributed a couple of classics. I appreciate it's not to everyone's liking, Urm.... anyone's liking if you're from the UK, but it fits the mood of this place so damn perfectly and I'm in no mood to apologise for my taste in American Rock. Nobody does brainless, trashy Rock like they do. 

In fact, If I've found myself in a bar on my own and there's some Melodic Rock going on, I've been known to mumble along at as low a volume as my state will permit and try to control my urge to be physically exuberant with a spot of foot tapping. I've been caught in my muffled croonings and modest physicality more than once (I do know the sub-genre more than passingly well).

I moved into different accommodation today. The digs were perfectly fine but I thought a man of my means could afford hot water and wifi, so I decided to upgrade. Interestingly, even with the new plush surroundings, I calculated that I could reside here for about 135 years without suffering any terrible financial hardship. Worth more than a passing thought. What with the diving, the right music and abundance of beer, it does make one think. Actually, the way I'm hoovering up Salva Vida at the moment, funds would probably run out in less than a decade - and that's if my liver held out that long. 

Oh, and I'm missing toast and marmite. Quite a lot. 

And toilets with seats that don't shift about like they've been greased with baby oil and toilet door locks that aren't bent nails. 

And mattresses. I mean mattresses with springs in them, not straw. 

Me on boat

Sunset yesterday evening

Day 22 - Honduras (Utila)

I'm in a bit of a rut at the moment. Days just seem to be an endless stream of early starts, morning coffee, sunbathing on the boat, dive to see wonderous things, water melon to cleanse the palet, sunny boat ride, dive again, lunch on a small island, whale shark spotting, back to the shop, beer, divers tales, dinner and bed. It's getting very monotonous. If anyone has any ideas about how to end this depressing cycle, please keep them to yourselves.

At last, I have some action shots to share. These are all of me and what I saw. I didn't google image any of them, they were right in front of my face. I have a bunch more photos but this is a selection of the best. I won't add a sarky commentary, they don't deserve it. 

Day 20 - Honduras (Utila)

PADI open water qualification, tick. I am now a newly qualified PADI diver and I feel quite good about it I must admit. My left ear now refuses to clear and is very annoying but what an incredible experience.

I've seen a dozen different types of crab including a very spiky one, barracuda, green moray, three types of Ray, sea cucumber, sand eels, more fish than you can shack a speargun at including, jacks, groupers, gruntfish, parrotfish, batfish, frog fish, little electic blue ones by the swarm, hi-viz yellow ones swimming right upto your nose, blue and yellow zigzag stiped ones, big fish with scales the size of your thumbnail, coraly stuff that disappears into itself in a flash when you stick your finger near it, flatfish that look like sand until you get within an inch of them and then they scuttle off, fish with great big lanterns protruding from the end of their noses on droopy prongs, fish that had four swipy rear fins that operate in four different directions at once that resemble.. well I don't know what, but they're mental, great big emerald tubes poking out of the bottom of the sea - don't know what that was but they were beautiful. Leaf coral swaying with the current and the stingrays that waft gracefully just above the sand, minding their own business were THE most incredible sight. Oh! Actually, they got trumped by the cowfish that change their colour from brown to electic blue when you get near them. God must have been tripping when he made them up. Phenomenal. I even had a bunch of fish that nipped me. I think they were attracted by my horse riding wounds. In fact I know they were, as they were feeding off my poor old legs like they hadn't had a decent scab lunch in forever. 

Apologies for not providing the Latin names for any of the above but it's still early days for me. 

I have no reference point but according to the owner of the dive shop, a Canadian, the visibility below the surface is, 'insane' at the moment. I certainly didn't have a problem seeing stuff - for seemingly miles. 

It's funny isn't it? I'm becoming blasé about things like Seahorses and exotic fish. Having never set eyes on a seahorse until 48hrs ago, I'm now seemingly surrounded by the things and regard them much like I'd've regarded seaweed last week. 

Boiled down version, I'm basically Sean Connery in Thunderball. Except without SPECTRE chasing me with motorised speargun shizzle. 'Another cold bottle of Salva Vida Mr. Bond?' 'Don't mind if I do old man. And crank up the Aerosmith would you? I love this one.'

I won't be going on about this for the next week but these things will stay with me forever I'm sure. 

Long nosed batfish from the dock.

Day 19 - Honduras (Utila)

So today was the first bit of scuba diving practical for myself and the other student on the course. I won't go into the detail of what we saw. This blog will just end up being days and days of fish photos otherwise. I'll save it all up and do that in a single post maybe.

Anyway, sticking your head underwater and breathing through your mouth for long periods is a bit weirder than you might imagine at first. Once you get the hang of it, you spend a bit more time looking around. For those that have never done it, I recommend it. For those that have done it, you'll know what I mean. It's simply incredible to be a part of the world underwater and here at least, there isn't an inch of space where something isn't happening or where there's something to see. I feel strangely privileged to have all that in my brain now. 

Just out of the water from a training session

A particularly happy bunny after day 1

Day 18 - Honduras (Utila)

I thought I'd write a few words about Utila today. As previously mentioned, it is part of Honduran Bay Islands group and is the second largest behind Roatan. Roatan tends to attract the more affluent tourist interested in hotels boat tours and recreational diving. Utila is a dive spot for backpackers pure and simple (with reputedly better dive sites) and accommodation and facilities tend towards the lower end. The cost of the basic 'Open Water' PADI qualification is $269 and that includes accommodation, theory papers, dive equipment and two free dives at the end of the course. It takes 3-4 days all told, so added up, it's a pretty cheap place to learn how to dive.

There is one Main Street in the only town of consequence in Utila and it's about wide enough for one car in some places, generally narrower though. It's basically a concrete path for Tuk-tuks and bikes. There are a bunch of hostels, cheap hotels, bars and restaurants along the path so the evening can get pretty lively. 

I've been staying adjacent to 'Skid Row Bar & Grill' which is pretty much as it sounds. Bandanas and tattoos essential. Actually, it's a pretty hostile place and I consider myself something of a specialist when it comes to rough bars. It's not all fighty but if you're not smoking weed, playing pool and into Death Metal, the regulars are pretty unfriendly. Still, there are plenty of other options close by. The road runs out just beyond the dive shop and then you're onto boat only access. It pretty rural but actually perfect for the circumstances and the locals fit the mold to a tee. One bar owner I saw was sporting a pair of suit trousers tailored into shorts complete with ancient beer/food stains rubbed concienscously onto the rear. I rather liked the look and may adopt upon my return to the real world. 

You don't have to travel very far to see some cool stuff. Just sitting on the edge of the dock Pelicans swoop for food and I've seen Seahorses, Stingrays, a thousand different fishes and an Eagle Ray. 

If you choose to stick your head under the water, it just goes crazy. I haven't done my fish recongnition stuff yet but the colours are incredible and the sort of stuff flashing by is the stuff of David Attenborough documentaries. I'll cover that in another post.

Oh, and just one more gruesome story to tell, apparently a couple of Canadians got their chips on a boat boarded by pirates last year off Utila. No information is on flintlocks, parrots, number of limbs, or eyepatches, but I have produced my own mental image of the affair. 

Trunk fish in the confined pool

Seahorse on the ropes

Stingray by the dock

Day 17 - Honduras (Utila)

This post is entitled, 'Death in Paradise'.

A body was discovered by a bunch of tourist divers this morning immersed in the big briny at one of the more popular dive sites on the island. The victim had apparently gone for an underwater stroll with a backpack stuffed full of rocks, only to discover that his buoyancy had been rather seriously and negatively affected by his baggage. He presumably paused to consider this dilemma only to recall that he required oxygen to continue his journey. His final discovery, belatedly, was that he was in considerable deficit of said oxygen and expired in situ.

I saw the pics from the guy who hauled him out. It looked exactly like that bit in Jaws. You know, one eye hanging out, face half eaten by crabs etc. Incredibly gruesome. Anyway, speculation is that he is a tourist, not a local and his misfortune may have been given an assist by a third party. 

I started my PADI diving course today. Theory only to begin with. Tomorrow I get wet. 

My enclosed water training pool 

The water is pretty clear!

Late afernoon view across the water