Belize: Paddling in a Giant Bathtub

I generally try to avoid countries in which the US Dollar is a widely accepted form of currency, as well as those with 4 daily non-stop flights to Texas. Nevertheless, I headed down to Belize with Kristin for a weeklong vacation, hoping to find more local adventures than yokels with dentures.

Our journey began in Dangriga. Though its population of 9,000 makes it the largest town in southern Belize, Frommers correctly observed that "there are no good beaches" and "the town can feel stifling hot and desolate on most days". Dirt roads and collapsed buildings outnumbered the few tourists passing through.

We met Captain Buck as he stumbled out of the Riverside Cafe. He quickly ushered us and another couple into his old, run-down skiff, stashing our bags next to a large supply of raw meat. We pushed off as he grabbed a wooden bench from the dock: this was to become our seat for the 9 mile ride out to the island of Tobacco Caye.

Most guidebooks advise travelers to make this crossing in the morning, as afternoons can be gusty. So naturally we planned a 5:30pm departure, and soon found our little vessel slammed around by white-capped swells on an open sea. Our bench toppled over within minutes, and we scrambled to hang on before the next massive drop. Another passenger confided that Buck had been enjoying a few beers before our departure. Kristin, a maritime SAR expert, awarded Buck points for attacking the waves at a 45-degree angle, while I suggested that we should have traded the raw meat for a few life jackets back at the dock.

In any event, Tobacco Caye proved to be an excellent backpackers' hideaway, with perhaps 50 rooms and as many hammocks scattered around the tiny island. Simple lodging and food, but very relaxing. The cabanas on the water at Paradise Lodge are among the nicest on the island.

We later hopped on a larger boat and spent the next few days kayaking at Glover's Reef, a remote atoll with hundreds of patch reefs in a tranquil lagoon. It's basically a giant outdoor bathtub, though apparently soap and rubber duckies are discouraged. You can watch stingrays swimming gracefully beneath your kayak, and it's easy to disembark near a shallow patch reef for snorkeling among the colorful little fishies.

As you might expect when 30 miles offshore on a sandbar, you don't have to worry about hordes of tourists. However, sleeping at the reef is not cheap. If you can handle an organized group camping trip with lots of Americans and coconut squirrels, one relatively affordable option is the 3-day Glovers Getaway on Southwest Caye. Otherwise, try the more expensive cabanas at Isla Marisol (also on Southwest Caye), or for longer stays, the bunks at the research station on Middle Caye.

Please remove your space helmets

Hilarious article in The Economist about in-flight announcements [subscription only].

Your life-jacket can be found under your seat, but please do not remove it now. In fact, do not bother to look for it at all. In the event of a landing on water, an unprecedented miracle will have occurred, because in the history of aviation the number of wide-bodied aircraft that have made successful landings on water is zero. This aircraft is equipped with inflatable slides that detach to form life rafts, not that it makes any difference. Please remove high-heeled shoes before using the slides. We might as well add that space helmets and anti-gravity belts should also be removed, since even to mention the use of the slides as rafts is to enter the realm of science fiction.

Wanderlust

Another year living overseas comes to an end. The usual remnants of wanderlust: expired visas, wads of currency, maps, ticket receipts, vaccination records.

Before moving home, I embarked on a whirlwind tour of China with old friends. Wei kindly introduced us to her Beijing family and helped us navigate the backroads of Huang Shan, Guilin, and Yangshuo.

Now that I'm back, the sedentary lifestyle has much appeal. I'm spending most of my weekends in town, but it's hard to pass up a three-day scenic hike in Southwest Colorado, from Cascade Creek (near the Purgatory ski resort) over two mountain passes to the old mining town of Ophir, just outside of Telluride. After being battered by hail and freezing rain, we camped by Island Lake (12,400'), easily one of the most beautiful places I've slept.

Big Pimpin' Spendin' Cheese

The best part of living in Zürich is not being in Zürich: nowhere else can you effortlessly reach so much of Europe. The past few weekends, in particular, have been ridiculous.

We started with a last-minute trip to Oslo for Tonje's birthday, and ended up escorting a gaggle of twentysomething girls out for a night of clubbing. Afterwards, our expensive hotel wasn't amused with the idea of us bringing them all upstairs for late-night drinks. The hotel's night staff foolishly engaged Alex in a debate, citing undocumented Norwegian fire safety rules and refusing to give us their names. In the end, they earned official reprimands; we earned a huge discount. And the undying admiration of our female companions, of course.

Next up, a weekend with my family in Rovinj, a beautiful Croatian town on the Istrian peninsula. We ate and drank lavishly, including a visit to Zigante, home of the world's largest white truffle. Meanwhile, we cruised the harbour each afternoon to watch the ACI Cup (a sailing event on the World Match Racing Circuit) and slept in our host's "spare" apartment building, each of us taking our own floor.

Three days later, Alex and I decided to escape the awful Zürich weather and spend a weekend in Istanbul. We didn't have any local contacts planned, but thanks to our seemingly infinite luck, discovered a Turkish colleague who was taking the same flight. We ended up staying out with him until 6:00am both nights, driving up and down the Bosphorous to visit tea shops, university parties, open-air dance clubs, and soup parlors. Apparently the Turks believe that eating tripe soup at sunrise does wonders for hangovers.

Our colleague's sister managed to get us a reservation at the über-trendy restaurant 360, which apparently doesn't even publish a phone number. Meanwhile, tasty grilled lamb kebabs could be found on every corner for a dollar or two... not to mention a few thousand years of Byzantine and Ottoman history.

And if that all wasn't enough, we spent the following weekend in Amsterdam with our Dutch/Norwegian friends. As VIPs at a glitzy club called Jimmy Woo's, we found DJ Tiësto in a room with thousands of light bulbs on the ceiling. Sleepless and weary, we later hopped across the border to Gelsenkirchen to watch Jesusland get thrashed by the Czech Republic in the opening round of the World Cup. Alex's contacts at UBS gave us 16th row tickets and hosted us for the evening at an old German castle, Schloss Bensberg. Ridiculous.