Belizean Express
January 19, 2006
The Journey: Part I
Summary: Transit point A to E (A = Andie’s car, D = Dangriga, E = Tobacco CayE)
Characters: Protagonist – amphibiously handsome, red nose belies hidden agenda
Sidekick – sharp hurtful wit, snappy dresser
Conflict: Parallel universe increases power, kleenex supply runs low
Resolution: Destination achieved, humidity raises pointy, yet attractive, head
Lesson: Not only Oldsmobiles, but small planes as well benefit from small open triangular side windows
From bars in Calgary to breakfast tacos in Dangriga to 10 minutes spent circumnavigating the whole of Tobacco Caye…..twice.
Notes of interest:
– Scotiabank in Belize will not accept Scotiabank cards from Canade, but Belize Bank will
– Beach volleyball on sand instead of packed dirt is for pussies
– Pelican piss does, in fact, fall from the sky
– Crazy women bring bring only jeans to a Caribbean island
– Sharp contrasts between treehouse overlooking ocean in Belize, dingy basement bedroom in Canada
The Dive
The four divers’ slow descent continued past chaotic mazes of coral,
indifferent schools of fish. Coral turned to rock, soon became sand, before giving way without warning to a gaping wound in the ocean floor. Instinctively falling into a formation of twos the interlopers sunk silently down into the hole. In the darkness, tiny bubbles of air, captured momentarily in the narrow beam of a flashlight, streamed quietly upward as the only indication of time or space. Off in the murky distance a single, triangular fin became visible, followed closely by a large, sinuous grey tail which, as though offended by the unnatural light, flicked powerfully once before disappearing into the gloom. The soft thud of fin on sand restored normality for only the briefest of moments before the intruders continued outward and down, ever down, deeper into the unknown abyss. Moments, or minutes, or hours, time had lost its relevance, passed before the fourth light flickered…. faltered…. disappeared. Cold, numb hands fumbled at the switch….left, right, back again. For the smallest portion of a second all motion ceased, until, suddenly, one strange, lonely bubble escaped into the black emptiness of space, closely accompanied by a barely audible sound, muffled by the depth and the darkness.
“Shit”
Tags: Belize, Central America, diving
dinojay2
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