I am in Dangriga again today. Dangriga is a town in Southern Belize, about halfway between Punta Gorda, where I was staying before, and Belize City, which is the capital, and also the approximate mid-point.
Like Punta Gorda, Dangriga is coastal, but the ocean is more approachable. There are stretches of sand that approximate beaches. (The real beach in the south is in Placencia. That's where everybody goes. I am staying in a small hostel, which has a veranda that looks out over the ocean. Well, kind of. It looks out over a park which abuts the ocean, but there are no structures between the veranda and the ocean. I went out earlier today and went swimming with a group of people who are here on a study abroad trip from Wisconsin.
I am in Dangriga for two nights. I arrived yesterday, and will be leaving tomorrow. Last night there were only three of us staying in the hostel, but it looks like it may be more tonight. The other two last night were two girls, originally from France. One now lives in London, and works as a flight attendant for British Airways, and the other lives in Chiapas, I think, learning about perma-culture.
I walked around a lot more of Dangriga yesterday than I was able to see last time I was here, and went out for dinner with the two French girls. I am continually surprised by the quantity of food you get at these little Chinese restaurants. You order a small plate, and it's a heaping plate that I would consider normal-sized, not small. I don't know how much a large is, I can usually just finish a small.
Tomorrow I will be continuing onward to Chetumal. I hope that I will have another chance to write from the hostel in Chetumal, but no guarantees.
Showing posts with label Dangriga. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dangriga. Show all posts
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Dangriga
It's funny how being on the road with only loose itinerary and hundreds of possibilities makes it so much easier to write, and write again, ad infinitum, while being at home with limited options makes writing a chore. I am decided that internet access makes a difference, and resolve to spend less time plugged into the Internet.
Traveling has a lure because it disconnects you from your ruts and expected mode of how things are, making anything possible, but the reality of anything possible is always true, limited by your normal thinking, expectations – “it's like this, variation isn't part of the story.”
I would like to keep my story open, expect the unusual to happen, enjoy the experience, be the experience, even once I arrive home.
I went to Dangriga earlier this week, which is a bit of a trip. It is almost three hours by bus. I planned on a day trip, though I think I should have planned for an overnight trip. I would like to visit there again before I return home.
Dangriga is bigger than Punta Gorda, although I had no realization of that when I stopped there on my trip down. (Yes, Dangriga is where I wrote my first entry about the bus rides, although I couldn't post it until later.) There are rivers at the edge of town, with bridges that heavy trucks and buses are not allowed to cross, so the bus terminal is at the edge of town. That was why I thought it was small and did not realize its size when I stopped there before. If I had, I might have gone toward Dangriga when I left the Hummingbird Farm, instead of toward Punta Gorda.
Dangriga lies right on the coast, as does Punta Gorda, but it actually has beaches, with sand, that you can walk out onto. Punta Gorda has a rockier coast, with docks that go out over the water, and some bus stations with little step down into the ocean behind, but no real beach.
I missed the early afternoon bus back by twenty minutes, because I stopped for lunch. My mental image of how much vegetable soup $7 BZD will get you was a little off, and lunch took a lot longer to finish than I expected.
The next bus was two hours later, so I waited in the bus terminal, and finally got home to Punta Gorda after dark. I didn't mind waiting, though, or any of the delays. What do I do with my days? Mostly read, and go for little walks, enjoying the sunshine and the sea breezes and the calls of the birds. So waiting for the bus, I could read, and I had already walked through Dangriga, enjoying the sunshine and the ocean and the sea breezes, and the calls of the birds.
Traveling has a lure because it disconnects you from your ruts and expected mode of how things are, making anything possible, but the reality of anything possible is always true, limited by your normal thinking, expectations – “it's like this, variation isn't part of the story.”
I would like to keep my story open, expect the unusual to happen, enjoy the experience, be the experience, even once I arrive home.
I went to Dangriga earlier this week, which is a bit of a trip. It is almost three hours by bus. I planned on a day trip, though I think I should have planned for an overnight trip. I would like to visit there again before I return home.
Dangriga is bigger than Punta Gorda, although I had no realization of that when I stopped there on my trip down. (Yes, Dangriga is where I wrote my first entry about the bus rides, although I couldn't post it until later.) There are rivers at the edge of town, with bridges that heavy trucks and buses are not allowed to cross, so the bus terminal is at the edge of town. That was why I thought it was small and did not realize its size when I stopped there before. If I had, I might have gone toward Dangriga when I left the Hummingbird Farm, instead of toward Punta Gorda.
Dangriga lies right on the coast, as does Punta Gorda, but it actually has beaches, with sand, that you can walk out onto. Punta Gorda has a rockier coast, with docks that go out over the water, and some bus stations with little step down into the ocean behind, but no real beach.
I missed the early afternoon bus back by twenty minutes, because I stopped for lunch. My mental image of how much vegetable soup $7 BZD will get you was a little off, and lunch took a lot longer to finish than I expected.
The next bus was two hours later, so I waited in the bus terminal, and finally got home to Punta Gorda after dark. I didn't mind waiting, though, or any of the delays. What do I do with my days? Mostly read, and go for little walks, enjoying the sunshine and the sea breezes and the calls of the birds. So waiting for the bus, I could read, and I had already walked through Dangriga, enjoying the sunshine and the ocean and the sea breezes, and the calls of the birds.
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