Traveling to Paradise

My college is hosting another trip to Belize over the winter, and as an attendee of last year's trip, it's got me thinking. I've been to Hawaii before, but I've never been to a foreign country before going to Belize, so it was a big thing for me. And in some ways, it was not the experience I'd hoped for - as great as some parts were, I myself was not in the right mind to travel, and I can remember just wishing to go home for the first week there. We were staying at a very nice resort, too, by Belizean standards, although by American standards the air conditioner was too loud and the room was too creaky and drafty - oh, and at some point a line of tiny ants came inconspicuously out of the wall to feast on some spilled water. In any case, it was nice, but I was not.

I'm not very adventurous in general; some people like being thrown into new and uncomfortable situations, but I don't. Even sleeping somewhere other than my own room hugely disrupts my sleep, and I was worried enough about the food. That wasn't so bad - just being in a new place made me more open to eating different things, but the only "Belizean cuisine" we had was what the hotels offered, which seemed to be more of a mix-and-match of different common foods I'm already used to. I have to say, this was comforting, I am possibly least adventurous when it comes to food. I think being cut off from my own life was what I couldn't handle during the first week; instead of appreciating where I was, I was preoccupied with staying connected to home, made difficult by the lack of phone service or reliable wi-fi.

And then, after week one, we drove through the well-known Hummingbird Highway on a misty morning on our way to the coast. Green mountains around us seemed to disappear right into the sky, and it felt at once confined and free. We were going to Dangriga, a colorful but pretty run-down looking town right beside the ocean. Despite that, the anxious mood that had been suppressing me for the preceding week lifted pretty instantly upon seeing the ocean. We got threw our luggage and our selves on a big water taxi and took off to a tiny island, where we'd stay at Pelican Beach Resort

The feeling I had was what I assume people travel for. I felt blissfully disconnected from my life - this island was isolated, tiny, and absolutely perfect. I didn't care about checking in with people back home, I only cared about walking the entire length of the island at sunset, swimming out into the gently sloping coast to spot fish I've only seen at aquariums before, hunting for the cutest possible hermit crab with my friend. I only cared about the great book I found sitting on the shelf at the resort, and leaving my own book there in place of it. I even went night snorkeling, something that sounds pretty terrifying to me - ocean and complete darkness? But I was so happy to be there, and so happy to do every little thing I did there. One of the most memorable parts was stargazing at the edge of the island with my friends - I've never seen so many stars, too many to take in at once, some big, small, colorful, blinking, covered by thin clouds.

I have a feeling it was seeing the ocean that opened me up to a real travel experience. The island was paradise, which may not be interesting to some more adventurous travelers, but what I remember was how it freed me.