My Favorite Vacation Spot

                      Our Favorite Vacation Spot

       Since I frequently write about travel, I’ve been asked; “What’s your favorite travel destination?”

            We’ve visited most of Europe, North Africa, several of the former Eastern European Countries, plus North American, Mexico Canada, several Central American countries, and Brazil. Our trips have always been a pleasure, but there is a special country we keep coming back too; Belize.

Now, let me tell you why we love to visit Belize. In 1972, while living in Corpus Christi, I had some oil royalty to sell, so I contacted a buyer in Houston, and after the sale, he mentioned returning from vacation.

            “Where’d you go?”

            “Belize.”

He described a great vacation trip, and after I returned home, Vertis and I talked. We were intrigued. Several airlines fly the two hour flights to Belize City out of Houston. In Belize City you change planes to a puddle-hopper and 30 minutes later you’re in San Pedro, a town of about 1000 people located on the barrier island of Ambergris Key. I had enough info to get a hotel reservation from a transplanted American Jerry McDermott.  Jerry, a former oil man from Houston, told me, after he returned from his first Belize trip, he was playing gin rummy in the Houston Petroleum club, when he said, “I’m moving to Belize.” He purchased a hotel called the Princess in San Pedro. That’s where we stayed. It turned out that “Hotel” was stretching it a bit, since the accommodations were thatched huts, complete with lizards in the ceiling.  (Current accommodations have greatly improved.)

When Jerry first moved to Belize there was a swimming contest, which was a swim to the barrier reef and back. The Belize Barrier Reef is the second largest barrier reef in the world. It’s about 700 yards to the reef from the dock. To enter, you pinned a $20 bill to the dock. The first person to swim to the reef and back would take the money. Naturally, all the professional divers entered. Jerry asked if he could enter, and the age 40 American, who looked a little out of shape, was welcome, since they figured his $20 was going to be a gift. When the swimmers hit the water the wiry divers darted out ahead, and when they made the turn at the reef, Jerry was dead last. But after the turn Belizean swimmers began to tire, and Jerry pulled ahead and as the guides staggered in, Jerry, a former American swim team member, was pulling $20 bills from the pier.

On that first trip we met Edwardo Brown, who once worked as a diver for Jacques Cousteau. We hired him along with his boat for the week, and immediately hit it off with him. We returned time after time to spend the week fishing, diving, and sightseeing with Edwardo.

 After I described our trip to my brother Dr. William Mason, he visited the country several times. Over the years that we were back and forth to Belize, Edwardo’s son, Eduardo Jr, graduated from high school, and while William was there on a visit, Edwardo Jr. commented that he would love to attend college in the States. William, who may have had a little to drink, said, “Come stay with us and go to UALR.” That fall William received a call from the Little Rock airport. It was from Eduardo Jr., who stayed with William and his saintly wife, Kittye, for four years.

            But back to why Belize is my choice. English is the official language and the Belizean dollar is worth 50 cents US. You can pay for anything in either Belizean dollars or U. S. dollars and usually receive change in Belizean currency. That makes things go smoother.

Our week with Edwardo would go something like this: He would say; “Let’s fish around the reef, dive and spear lobsters for lunch, and cook them on the beach.” I have a great picture of Ashley holding a 30 pound barracuda, and I can’t describe how great fresh lobster tastes cooked over palm fronds. The food in the town is also excellent, since several very good restaurants have opened all serving seafood. You can’t get it any fresher.

After a lunch on the beach, we always did a little beachcombing, and our favorite spot was a beach opposite where a Spanish galleon, centuries ago, sank after hitting the reef. We would always pick up pieces of the shipwreck, and the most common were the thick glass bases of wine bottles. Some folks have found gold coins, but we haven’t. On our coffee table in the living room, we have 20 or 30 of wine bottle bases. They make for a great conversation starter.

Or: “Let’s take the boat and cross the bay to the mainland, go up the New River to see the ancient Mayan city of Altun Ha or Lamanai.” That’s one of our favorite trips, which consists of a couple of hours crossing the bay, then up the New River, which is just a little wider than Smackover Creek, but with orchids and wildlife, which greatly adds to the trip. We dock and meet a another guide with a converted school bus to give us a ride down the Pan-American Highway to the ancient Mayan City of Altun Ha, or just stay in the boat on to Lamanai, which is right beside the river. In Altun Ha the center of the large city has been uncovered and the massive stone pyramid a couple of hundred feet tall, with a ball court, set in the middle of a rain forest, is still vividly in my mind.

            Or, “Would you like to wade across the lagoon about five miles down the island to an abandoned Mayan village?”

            “Sure,” we said, and off we would go. The boat ride is 5 miles from San Pedro where we tied up and walked across the island to the edge of the lagoon. Then it was wade and wade we did. I didn’t mind the wading, but the lagoon bottom is muddy, and you had to double tie your shoes or you would lose one. Vertis wasn’t thrilled with wading in thigh deep water with mud halfway up your knees, but she did. Our kids, 12-year-old Ashley and 14-year-old Lara plowed ahead and beat us across the lagoon to where the village once stood. In, what was the center of the village, there was 6 foot in diameter hand-dug well for fresh water, foundation walls, and rectangular outlines of houses, and off to one side the village garbage dump.  Yes, the ancient Mayans were just like us, and they broke clay pots, arrowheads and dumped them along with clams and oyster shells by the thousands. I carted off as much of the broken pots and arrowheads as I could haul home. Then, just before we left, Ashley, who was under a big tree, yelled, “Dad, look at this!” Ashley, was pointing to a large python curled up on a tree limb. About the same time Lara shouted “Look!” She had found a Mayan ring.

            Where else can you take a two hour plane flight and end up in such a wonderful, exotic country?