I.II.V.I – Placencia?: Day One
PLACENCIA?
I.II.V.I – DAY ONE
24/09/22
I woke up bright and early to catch the bus from Hopkins to the intersection outside the town, where I’d get on another one that would lead me to my next destination; Placencia. What followed, instead, is what I like to refer to as a series of unfortunate events.
Always the punctual type, I was at the bus stop half an hour early. It was at this time that I realised I had travelling-mode perfected save for one thing -a foldable chair. Think about it. The worst part of waiting around is having to do it standing. Carrying around a portable chair would make waiting around so much easier! I swore I’d buy one if I ever came across one during my trip. I mean, by that time, I had already bought a tiny metal pot I’d use instead of a mug to prepare (cold) coffee whilst on the road – why shouldn’t I have a chair to enjoy it on too?
Whilst contemplating how to further improve my condition, the clock kept on ticking. Waiting for the bus felt a bit like how veterans describe the war – you’re waiting 90% of the time. I was running on a bit of a tight schedule, but, luckily, the old timey bus showed up on time. Unluckily, the bus goes around the entire town to pick up every single soul prior to leaving. My nerves and anxiety of missing the next bus were assuaged by the feeling of community, with each person getting on the bus greeting everyone inside. Just like old times. And my how times have changed. Now everyone gets on the bus, sits down, puts on their headphones and that’s it. Not that I’d know really, haven’t used the bus in ages…
Anyways. We got to the junction on time – only to be told by some people waiting in the station that the bus had passed twenty minutes before and there wouldn’t be another for a couple of hours. These… These were the times I knew I’d despise when I was planning for this big trip. That despite how much you plan or prepare and how punctual you are, stuff happens. Incorrect schedules, landslides, floodings. And the sooner I’d get used to it, the easier my life would be. And so far, it was working. I breathed in and out, smoked a couple of cigarettes, and c’est la vie’d the exasperation away.
Hitch-hikin'
I took a bus that dropped me off to Santa Cruz – a town some forty kilometres away from Placencia. Then I sat miserably on a bench with all my many belongings, waiting for a bus that might or might not have showed up. By the time it started pouring and I was drenched down to the bone, I was contemplating walking the rest of the way. Better than just sitting there, I figured. Then I realised I had another option, something I had never done in my life – mostly cause I never needed to. I flipped my thumb up in the air, and voila, after the second attempt, three guys in a truck took pity on me.
Ivan, Aden and Esteban; a group of friends working together came in to save the day. Coincidentally, they were heading to Placencia themselves in order to install some ACs in an elementary school there. They told me all about their work, how they’ve been at it for over twenty years and how they go around the area fixing and installing the contraptions. Ivan, constantly offering me weed, had the same shocked expression every single time I refused. Aden, very knowledgeable and cultured, told me about how most Mayans start their families; that incest is common practice and that girls usually start getting pregnant soon after their first period. Turns out, for such indigenous groups, the laws have been changed to accommodate for such practices, with the age of consent for such communities being fourteen compared to the usual sixteen in Belize. Esteban, the driver, barely spoke a word during the entire trip. It took us around two hours to get there, with multiple stops along the way where I gladly helped them load and unload stuff off the truck, feeling slightly less useless in the process. They probably appreciated that much more than the thousand ‘thank you’s I kept on dishing.
Once we got to Placencia and we all headed our separate ways, I decided to actually look up the place I’d be staying in. Much to my surprise and self-commiseration, I soon found out I’d be staying in a nearby village; Seine Bight, and not, as I had thought, in Placencia. I knew it’d be a funny story to recount at some point, but at that moment, I just wanted to lie down in foetal position and cry myself in desperation. Most of what had transpired thus far was unavoidable – this was on me
Thirty minutes walking in a thunderstorm and a bus later, I finally got to my place; a cabaña in the middle of the jungle. I’d describe it – only I’d be able to check-in after some four hours as the terribly hungover host had me know over a recording on Whatsapp after some eighteen phone calls. On the brink of having an emotional breakdown, I sat down, centered myself and found my inner zen. I left my soaking wet bags in front of the door, and, like an idiot, headed right back to Placencia.
Placencia
Luck seemed to be on my side from thereon (emphasis on seemed). The second I stepped out onto the road, I could see a bus making its way southward.
Finally – I was on my way to the promised land, Placencia, a fishing village in the Stann Creek District, is a popular touristic destination, boasting of many beautiful beaches that attract people looking to swim, fish or dive. It was also a hub for visiting nearby places, such as, as I serendipitously discovered, Seine Bight; a historic Garifuna settlement, and, Maya Beach Village; a resort and boutique hotel centre.
Feeling pretty beat from the day’s events, I strolled down the Sidewalk; a long, long wooden path with many colourful beach bars, gift shops and hotels along its windings. Branching from it are also a number of beaches and, at its end, the Municipal Pier, where one can usually find people fishing.
Zen
After going around the area and enjoying a brief swim, I headed back to my cabaña in Seine Bight to get some much-needed rest.
And the cabaña? Holy hell. I don’t mean to sound like I’m doing a Trip Advisor review but I kinda have to describe it. Three elevated lodges are nestled in a quiet area in the middle of a forest by the main road, with a huge terrace where bush rabbits can often be seen scurrying around. Talk about treehouse vibes! Once you climb the stairs, there’s a tiny porch with a hammock and then the door to the cabana which leads directly to a nice kitchenette, a fancy bathroom and the bedroom. But, what made this place so cool was the loft-style living room just beneath the roof.
All weary and worn out, I took a long, hot shower and then made myself a home of the couch in the loft where I spent the entire afternoon writing. My god, finally! Some time to rest and recuperate!