Placencia? – Day 1: A Series of Unfortunate Events
PLACENCIA?
Day 1: A Series of Unfortunate Events
September 24, 2022
I woke up bright and early to catch the bus from the heart of Hopkins to the intersection outside town, where Iād get on another one that would take me to my next destination –Ā Placencia. What followed, instead, is what I like to call a series of unfortunate events.
Always the punctual type, I was at the bus stop half an hour early. It was then 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 a portable chair would make waiting so much easier! I swore Iād buy one if I ever came across one during my trip. I mean, by that time, I had already bought a tiny metal pot to use instead of a mug to prepare coffee while on the road – so why shouldnāt I have a chair to enjoy it on too?
Ā
While contemplating how to improve my setup, the clock kept ticking. Waiting for the bus felt a bit like how veterans describe war – youāre waiting 90% of the time. I was running on a tight schedule, but luckily the old-timey bus showed up on time. Unluckily, the bus went around the entire town to pick up every single soul before leaving. My nerves and anxiety about missing the next bus were eased 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 minds their own business. Unpopular opinion: Just how I like it.Ā
Anyways… We got to the junction on time – only to be told by some people waiting there that the bus had passed twenty minutes before and there wouldnāt be another for a couple of hours. I couldn’t quite believe it. All that hassle, for nothing! These… these would be the times I knew Iād despise when planning this big trip. That despite how much you plan, prepare, and how punctual you are, stuff happens: incorrect schedules, landslides, flooding. The sooner I’d get used to it, the easier my life would be. And so I breathed in and out, smoked a couple of cigarettes, and cāest la vieād the exasperation away.
Hitch-hikin'
I took a bus that dropped me off at Santa Cruz – a town about 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 show up. As fate would have it, a tropical downpour arrived instead.Ā
Despite the tin roof on the bus stop, I was drenched to the bone in a matter of minutes. I was so miserable and felt so hopeless, I actually contemplated walking the rest of the way. Better than just sitting there, I figured. Then I realised I had another option, something Iād never done in my life – mostly because 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 to save the day. Coincidentally, they were heading to Placencia themselves to install some ACs in an elementary school there. They told me all about their work, how theyād 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: incest is common practice, and girls usually get pregnant soon after their first period. Turns out, for such indigenous groups, the laws have been changed to accommodate these 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.Ā 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 āthank youās I kept dishing out.Ā
Once we got to Placencia and headed our separate ways, I decided to actually look up the place Iād be staying. Much to my surprise and self-commiseration, I soon found out Iād be staying in a nearby village, Seine Bight – not, as Iād thought, in Placencia. I knew itād 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 into desperation. Most of what had transpired thus far was unavoidable – this one was on me.
Ā
Thirty minutes walking in a thunderstorm and a bus later, I finally got to my place – a cabaƱa in the middle of the jungle. Iād describe it – only Iād be able to check in after some four hours, as the terribly hungover host let me know over a recording on WhatsApp after some eighteen phone calls. On the brink of 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 there on (emphasis on seemed). The second I stepped out onto the road, I saw 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 many beautiful beaches that attract people looking to swim, fish, or dive. Itās 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 dayās events, I strolled down the Sidewalk – a long, long wooden path with many colourful beach bars, gift shops, and hotels along its windings. Branching off from it are a number of beaches, and at its end, the Municipal Pier, where you can usually find people fishing.
Zen
After wandering around the area and enjoying a brief swim, I headed back to my cabaƱa in Seine Bight for some much-needed rest.
And the cabaƱa? Holy hell. I donāt wanna sound like Iām writing a TripAdvisor review, but I kinda have to describe it. Three elevated lodges are nestled in a quiet spot in the middle of a forest by the main road, with a huge terrace where bush rabbits often scurry around. Talk about treehouse vibes! Once you climb the stairs, thereās a tiny porch with a hammock, then the door to the cabaƱa, which leads straight into a nice kitchenette, a fancy bathroom, and the bedroom. But what made this place so cool was the loft-style living room right under the roof.Ā
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. I could hardly believe that I managed to find peace and comfort at the end of such a nightmarish day. But finally, I had some time to rest and recuperate!