- Belize, Central America, Independent travel, Photography, Transport, Travel Blog, Wildlife, World food
Out Of Mexico And In To Belize
A dreadlocked guy lazes in a hammock and raises his hand as we alight from the ferry. “Welcome to paradise” he beams. The delicious smell of barbecued seafood drifts across the sandy track, a smiling girl clocks our backpacks and suggests we taste the local rum before we walk any further. We turn right, heading to where our next bed is. The breeze is deliciously warm, the sun incredibly hot. And everything is different, just a short journey has brought us to a different culture which feels so different that we could call it a different world, let alone a different culture. No longer is there any significant Spanish influence,…
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Last Days In Egypt: Exploring The Reef
It’s Good Friday at home in England. Here it’s mid Ramadan, though in Camp Sunshine both Easter and Ramadan have become somewhat abstract concepts, for us at least, although we are having chats with staff over the effects of fasting. It looks like it’s changeover time too: new faces are appearing and wandering around learning the ropes and some of our old favourites seem to have gone back home to ordinary life. Dave Angel (eco warrior) is still here with his heavily tattooed entourage, but Tracey Emin is out of the picture and Wolfgang & Son seem to have gone back to wherever their normal food levels exist and left…
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The Boys Of Summer: More Tales From The Red Sea
Camp Sunshine beach bar has its music on a loop – a loop which perhaps should be a little longer. It’s a good job I have my headphones, given that we can hear the music from both house and beach spot and the inoffensive MOTR run of Santana, Adele, Richard Marx etc is at a certain point rudely interrupted by Tom Jones’ “Delilah”. We feel a pang of guilt laying here soaking up the sun while poor Tom is about to be arrested for stabbing his Mrs to death. We think we might know where we’re going wrong with the all-inclusive thing. I remember chatting in a hotel bar in…
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Legal Aliens: Englishmen In Resort
Day 3 at Camp Sunshine (not its real name) brings an increase in the sea breeze and the nations’ flags between the restaurant and the beach are flapping furiously – though there’s not a Union Jack or a St Georges anywhere to be seen in the collection. Colours are to the fore: the deep brown suntans of those Germans presumably nearing the end of their stay clashing with the frighteningly red raw faces and shoulders of the newcomers who’ve done too much sun too soon. They must be suffering. There’s also the sky blue – not the sea or the sky but the shiny sky blue of our wrist bands…
