An uncertain destination

The squeal of the wheels touching ground alerts my attention.  We say polite goodbyes and "have a nice trip" to Felix.  The older gentlemen in the seat next to us who messed up his customs form three times and thus decided he'd never come to Mexico again.  "It's too much of a hassle", he says.  I wonder if he knows what he's talking about.

We take a comfortable bus to Playa del Carmen and eventually find the Hotel Colorado.  There we talk to Kard, one of the six owners of the Hotel.  He lets us pick out which room we want and tells us about a nice local place called Fogon. One more day in Playa spent running on the beach, talking to local transplant divers, wandering around all inclusives, swimming, and just relaxing for a bit.  Oh yeah and trying to figure out how we're going to get to Belize City tomorrow.
Yet to contact Rick or Veronica Cattouse, the people who Derrick set us up to stay with in Belize City, we decide to press on regardless. We walk the surprisingly vacant streets of Playa before the sunrise to catch a bus to the border.  There we meet a fast talking tri-lingual French back packer, possibly named Javier, although that may have also been the name of the taxi driver.  The first class bus to Chetumal was about 4 1/2 hours and pleasant, it had a bathroom, air conditioning and even a TV airing a fantastically cheesy teen comedy.
"Javier" spoke Spanish so we shared a taxi with him and he helped us cross the border.  He'd been traveling Central America for about 5 months and was trying to get to Honduras.  His experience and Spanish helped us much getting across the border.
Once in Belize the buses changed dramatically.  I apologize, in all the chaos thus far, I have but barely one or two random pictures of the trip. But just imagine an old American school bus painted bright colors and playing loud Spanish music and the worst of 80's pop.  As an example, hours into bus riding Belize I was actually excited to hear a Creed song, then after about 15 seconds I remembered how awful Creed is. We slowly travel the streets of Corozal.  The bus driver stopping for ice cream and then a Coke at another time.  Let's say it's a leisurely drive.
Then we pass through a small village named Concepcion.
Now it's time to travel from Concepcion to Placencia, and that is quite a journey.
In Orange Walk, two hours from this days destination we still have no idea where we are going to stay in Belize City.  We talk to Herminio one of the guys working on the bus and ask him where we can make a phone call.  Well it turns out he knows Rick and Veronica, and he calls them for us, gets through to them and we are able to make plans to meet.
Staying at the Cattouses is still the best night of sleep I've gotten so far on the trip.
Anyhoo there's another 7 hours or so of buses the next day plenty interesting but i fear there has already been plenty of bus details.  Arriving at our destination on a bus without an inch of space to spare we meet up with Derrick and eat a delicious dinner of homemade tuna filled empanadas at a brand new unbaptized brothers house. 
So now in the past, getting to Placencia, was surely an experience.  A bit stressful at times, filled with unknowns and uncertainties.  When my mind would race, I prayed to Jehovah and he calmed me, helped me to think clearly, act reasonably, and provided the needed direction to get us here safe, sound and smiling.

"The suspense is terrible. I hope it will last"

Preparing for our upcoming trip has me in a state of surreal anxiety ridden excitement. Thus what better way to console this idle mind chatter then to participate in the cathartic experience of musing away in type. Right? Well I know what a few of those words mean at least.

Allow me to digress for a moment.  Some background if I may on how an adventure is born.  I suppose it all starts with inspiration. When I was 14 my best friend moved with his his family to San Miguel, a small town in the mountains of Ecuador, South America. Not quite a year later, I traveled with a friend to visit him there.  I have fond memories but I never thought of the trip with much significance, but as most everything does in life, the trip sparked profound change.

I got a bug on that trip, and I don't mean a parasite, possibly that too though. I speak of the adventure bug.  Which I suppose is quite human in itself, as I think adventure is relative.  Maybe it's just challenging yourself in some way.  Doing something that's somewhat difficult, new, or possibly even uncomfortable. Here's an excerpt from my travel journal to Ecuador on a day out in service "There was just rural houses in San Vincenta, We had to walk up lots of hills. There are pigs tied up along the dirt roads, and the dogs bite, all the people are really nice."  It's not exactly summiting K2, but it was interesting, different, addictive even.  It was the first time I think, that I realized how little I really knew about the world and life in general.  And little is more exciting than that, because when you know nothing the potential for learning and growth is endless.  Now I'm not saying I always kept that attitude, I was a teenager for goodness sake. And as I get older and become what some people might call an adult of sorts, it's a struggle I must say to keep that childlike awe and desire to drink in experiences and gain all the insight that our surroundings offer.  Whatever those surroundings may be. 

And that is why I'm so excited about this trip to Belize. Because I don't feel all that different from that 14 year old kid.  I still don't know what to expect. I can plan all day, but I still don't really know what I'm doing (don't tell Ian that part), and the whole thing, like life in general, is just one big, giant unknown.  Yes, there is so much to learn.  And that is truly, a Magnificent thing!

Here's some pics of that trip . . .