December 1, 2015
This falls into that category: It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time.
Last March, when I was recovering from my total knee replacement surgery and feeling housebound and despondent, I decided to extend my November trip to Central America with a few days at a beach resort in Belize. Originally I would have been returning home two days before Thanksgiving, after spending almost two weeks following “The Route of the Maya” through El Salvador, Honduras, Guatemala, and Belize. But then Overseas Adventure Travel modified the itinerary and added two days to the trip—meaning that I would be flying home late on Thanksgiving Day, returning to a dark and empty house.
That thought was depressing, and in addition for a long time I had wanted to snorkel off the reef that runs along the coast of Belize. So I researched on the Web and found a small resort at the north end of Ambergris Caye that was close enough to the reef to offer wade-in snorkeling. Tranquility Bay Resort was miles from the town or any other resort and only accessible by boat. So I booked four nights in a one-bedroom casita facing the ocean. I would be alone, but I am used to being alone. I would be fine. I was a bit nervous about disobeying the cardinal rule about never swimming alone, but thought there would be others in the water.
On November 26th, I said good-bye at the Belize City airport to the fifteen other travelers in my small group, boarded the ten-passenger airplane to Ambergris Caye for the fifteen minute flight, and took a taxi to the wharf.
The resort’s small boat bounced on the rough waves for the fifteen miles up the coast, coming down and smacking the ocean hard. I held on and admired the passing coast and a dolphin that plunged out of the water. Finally, the boat slowed and veered into the dock and a small cluster of buildings on a dock. We had arrived.
It was noon on Thanksgiving Day. The white casitas with brightly painted trim were char
ming. Lounge chairs sat in the shade of the palm trees, facing the blue ocean. Well, the blue and brown ocean. There had been a storm the night before, and sand and dirt were suspended in the water. The wind was blowing hard, not the best snorkeling conditions so I did not go in.
That night the resort offered its guests a full Thanksgiving dinner of turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, dressing, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie for dessert. I sat by myself at a table for four. One extended family took up a table for sixteen. There were other family groups and couples dining. It was the first time in my life that I had been alone at Thanksgiving. I tried to fill my mind with gratitude for all the Thanksgiving dinners of the past and be thankful that I had the means and energy to travel, but a sadness enveloped me. I missed Bill very much.
Somehow I had forgotten how much I dislike eating dinners alone in a restaurant, too. When I was traveling on business, if I could not eat with colleagues, I usually ordered room service. But that was not possible at this small resort. The next three nights I read the news on my cellphone while eating the delicious seafood dinners. The two waiters provided good service and never neglected me, even though they were very busy.
During the day, I relaxed under the palm trees. I watched the birds and read my books. I tried snorkeling the second day and found myself gasping for air through my snorkel in the murky water. Not being able to see clearly had panicked me, and according to a husky neighbor, there were nurse sharks at the reef. Nurse sharks are considered non-aggressive, but I did not want to meet one in the murk. The third day there was no one on the beach or in the water, so I took a quick swim and did not try to snorkel.
Finally on the fourth and last day, the water was clearer and calmer and I was able to spend some time snorkeling around a small coral head and watching a wide variety of fish there. The reef was still a long way out (you can see where the waves are breaking in the photo), and my new knee was complaining about the weight of the fin so I did not try to swim out to it. Besides, being alone in the water made me nervous. My neighbors in the casita next door had seen me go in the ocean which was a bit reassuring. I should have signed up for a snorkeling excursion with the resort, but I was worried that my knee would not hold up.
Do I regret the decision to go this tropical paradise? No. It was beautiful and relaxing. I now can check off “Belize coast” on my bucket list. But I also realize that being a solo traveler in a small group is much different than being a solo traveler in a small resort setting. And next time I go snorkeling, I need a buddy.
