Eleven Nights in Belize Part 2 into 3
- Unplug Magazine
- Aug 7
- 4 min read
By Robert Lundberg
Contributing Writer for Unplug. Magazine
A note on travel:
While stepping into the unknown. There are no defined parameters, no set rules, besides the proverbial emergence of the unexpected.
This is the risk a traveler accepts as a cost in exchange for rewards far greater than what is lost upon his journey, or so my ethos went.
Briefly back to Brooklyn: Spring to Summer 2017
The Central American county of Belize is no larger than the state of Massachusetts.
Belmopan being the capital, and sits with the Caribbean Sea to the East, Mexico to the North, and Guatemala as its neighbor to the West. Within its dense jungle lie Mayan ruins and architecture, while about two and half hours off the coast of San Pedro, Ambergris Caye is the UNESCO world heritage site: The Great Blue Hole. An adventurer’s paradise.
Of course I didn’t know all this when the invite to vacation to this mystical nation came from T--this was a few weeks after our discussion about her family roots. Having just picked up my
life and basically living out of my suitcase, I was ready for another life changing experience.
In fact, that life changing experience came on the evening of June 23, 2017 a few days prior
to my scheduled departure.
The Brooklyn Queens Expressway is a piece of roadway more ferocious than any foreign roadway by far. One must be a skilled driver, even so, the risk of an accident is high. In the backseat of an Uber heading to Williamsburg a first date in the air. A line of traffic leading off the exit. Smack! A brief moment of blackness. Back on the highway somehow. Confusion. A concussion. The dream of Belize and adventure stopped dead by a drunk driver. Or so I thought.
2023: Onto Belize
When the dust settled. It was 2023. My early to mid-thirties washed away fighting post concussion battles seemingly coming to an end. Well, at least on the legal front.
The beginning of the year was turning out to be eventful. I’d finally landed a date for a big solo photography exhibition. Seventy-three images to be exact!
In-tandem both climate research and a longing for adventure captivated my imagination. Lingering in the back of my mind, an image of that small Central American nation which had eluded me for so many years. Belize. The timing couldn't have been better to close the circle, thus, after my exhibit closed….I booked the trip.
May 08th 2023: Towards the Pine Forests
The Toyota pick-up sped southward on the George Price Highway weaving around lethargic motorists and oncoming traffic-more of a one-lane road than a highway.
My guide and driver Virgil picked me up in Belize City an hour earlier, his foot never leaving the accelerator since. Navigating the road with local expertise, he maneuvered us with a zen calmness, albeit with a few close encounters. In contrast, my right hand never left the truck’s interior grab handle, my heart jumping with every swerve and kilometer per hour.
I was alive again. The first leg of my journey had begun: the pine forests called, adventure awaited….
Virgil with his darkened sunglasses reflecting the harsh unobstructed sunlight contrasting a bright blue sky sans a cloud or two. I learned he was a hard working farmer along with a tour guide and his specialty: peanuts.
He continued to chat about the complexities of Belizean culture, while I, not trying to be impolite, found myself soaking in the surrounding landscape in a hazy dreamlike gaze. Sweat upon both our brows.
Coming out of Belize City, the stark landscape came into vision. Flatlands, marsh lands perhaps, barren besides human made debris tossed aside, a few brush fires, and for-sale signs primed for international development.
I also noted the initial check points we passed through and inquired with Virgil. Whom solemnly informed me that illegal smuggling of species, plants, and drugs were a very real concern.
I hid a smile. This was the trip my imagination turned into reality.
On the way towards Mountain Pine Ridge Forest Reserve after a period of time the land is interrupted by small roadside villages, families, children mixing with dogs and other domesticated animal kinds.
The natural setting giving way to the urban, as we passed the outskirts of Belize’s capital city: Belmopan.
Briefly stopping at a roadside gas station, I sauntered out of the truck and into the small dimly lit shop to pick up two ice cold Belkin beers.
The primary beer of Belize quenched my spirit as the realization set in that I was deep in a foreign land and closing in on a location where Francis Ford Cappola frequently found solace.
My day had started at 4 a.m. in Boston, MA. I had barely made a transfer in Atlanta, Georgia.
However, here I was in Belize not knowing what such a country would bring.
Follow Robert on Instagram to see more of his photography @R_Lundberg
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