Thursday, February 10, 2011

January 22, 2011 (San Pedro Town: Day 2: Part 1)

My second day on Ambergris Caye (where the golf cart is THE means of transport) started at about 7:00 AM. Thankfully, the Indian curry night had ended at about 11:00 PM so I was able to get a decet night's sleep. I decided to slip into my (almost) new running shoes and head out for an early morning "explore the Caye" run while it was still relatively cool. The island (or technically, the peninsula) is quite long. I headed out in the direction of the main business district and kept going in a generally northern direction for about a half hour, at which point I turned around and headed back. When I got to the north end of the main town I crossed a pay bridge (they only ask cars and golf carts for money-- joggers are free!) and started running in an area that was obviously in transition. Shortly after crossing the bridge I saw what one of my books said is the only movie theatre in Belize (the Paradise Theatre). At this point I saw some of the new subdivisions that have been platted but on which very few or no homes have yet been built. I wasn't too worried about getting lost because Pedro's Inn is virtually across the street from the tiny airport runway serving the town. During my run I saw a great deal of the town and got a good general idea of everything. Quite frankly, I was surprised at the considerable amount of ramshackle buildings surrounding the bustling town center. I guess I was expecting to see a lot more upscale housing and developments, as San Pedro is touted as the most prestigious and "Americanized" part of Belize. There was also a lot less accessible sandy beach than I had expected to see. The beautiful beaches I saw (and walked and ran on) in Hopkins (on the mainland) a few weeks later were far superior to what I saw on Ambergris.

During the last portion of my run I slowed to a walk to "cool down" as I was approaching the airport and Pedro's Inn when I ran smack dab into Kirby, Danielle (the Canadian) and Stefano (the Italian). They were heading to Estel's for breakfast again, so I decided to join them (Belize is one place you can eat at a restaurant wearing only a swimsuit or running shorts and not even be noticed!). This time I had the pancakes, and their special coffee. plus fresh-squeezed orange juice. Estel's has a gorgeous view of the Caribbean, and you can eat outside. The food and the ambience were fabulous, and my company was entertaining as well. A little about the young and cute Danielle (a couple photos below). She was born in Toronto in 1984, and she lived there until she was in the fourth grade. In fouth grade, her family moved to Beaumont, a suburb of Edmonton. Danielle's dad was in the masonry business, to which he later introduced his daughter. She was a basketball player. She was a five foot six inch point guard, and when she was a junior in high school her team won the city and provincial titles. She received a scholarship to play for the University of Alberta at Edmonton. In her third year her team won the Canadian national championship, which she told me is roughly the equivalent of Division 2 in the U.S. Still, a pretty impressive story. In school, Danielle majored in sociology and minored in psychology (but-- truth be told-- I think she has a PhD in drinking and partying). She had intended to be a social worker, but the experiences she had during her practicum caused her to change her mind about her future vocation. When she finally graduated from the University (in 2008) she went back to the job she had been doing every summer during her college years-- masonry. She found out she actually liked working with stone. However, after doing it for a couple years she decided it was too hard on her body so she decided to switch to an entirely different career-- retail. But first, she is going to visit Nicaragua by way of Belize and Guatemala.  She's planning to return to Canada in June and start a job with Banana Republic.

Danielle Is in the White Shirt (with the blue "necklace")

Danielle Is Way Drunk and Is Smooching the Wrong Guy

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