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Journey to Crooked Tree Wildlife Sanctuary   1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 

Sam Tillett's Hotel and Tour was not really what I'd call a hotel, so much as a farm. Because that's exactly what it was. Turkeys and ducks free-ranged around the property, and two horses watched the comings and goings of visitors with great curiosity. Several coops lay underneath a wooden stairway, and were filled with chickens of varying sizes and ages. Everything was dirt or grass, and there were only two wooden buildings — one for the family that lived there, and one with six rooms for lodging. There was also a "dining room", which was really no more than a raised, octagonal, wooden gazebo with screen windows all around, and half of it separated off as the family's kitchen.

We spoke with the hostess, a dark-skinned middle-aged woman with several young children and a thick Creole accent, and got a room, which I would describe as "maximally rustic". It contained two twin beds (with fat, firm pillows), a bathroom (toilet not flushing), and an upright fan. We switched the fan on maximum, pointed it straight at us, and rested for a while, exhausted from all the exertion of the morning. (And it was only 12:30.) The woman who ran the hotel informed us that Sam was not around, but we could still do a lagoon tour. We began to worry this might have been a bust, but we'll have to wait and see. She offered us dinner that night, and actually asked if we ate meat, which I thought was very thoughtful. Erin went easy and said she ate some chicken, but not red meat. She's getting laxer all the time about that sort of thing.

After a brief nap, we took a walk up some of the streets, looking for life. We just passed lots of houses and farms, and mounds and mounds of cow and horse turds. An old man walking up the road caught up with us, and walked along for a little bit. We found out his name was Denvey, and he told us about how he grew up here (finally: a native Belizian!), then went to America about 20 years ago, and apparently got caught up in drugs, which he ruefully regretted. He spoke with a bit of a slur, and a heavy Creole accent, so I finally had an idea of what at least one segment of native people were like. And, of course, he, too, was exceptionally friendly, telling us how he was one of the only old-timers left in Crooked Tree. Young people were leaving all the time, and the older people that knew him were dying one by one. I felt bad for him, at that moment, wondering if he was alone, and hoping not.

Finding nothing but houses and a few trails of leaf-cutter ants, and certainly no "village" to speak of, we returned to the hotel, and again, felt completely wiped out. I was a little relieved that Erin felt that way, too, but I was worse — almost short on breath — and clearly I'd overexerted myself today, especially just getting over my E. Coli romp. We read books, played cards, and talked for basically the next few hours, as we had absolutely nothing else to do, here in the middle of nowhere. I don't think I've ever felt more remotely isolated in my life. What I wouldn't have given for a crossword puzzle or two right about now. We contemplated taking a shower to get some of the sweaty grime off our bodies and heads, but the two-inch long cockroach that jumped out of the bathroom sink quickly made us forget about that.

We went down for dinner a little early, just so we could look at something other than our squalid room, and planned out our Guatemala travels some more. Dinner was a very traditional Belizian dish: spiced chicken (that's 7 for Erin), with wild rice and blackeye peas, and cole slaw (which I tasted, but didn't feel brave enough to eat.) We returned to the room, and started preparing for the morning, when we would have to meet our guide at 5:45. That's a little hard for me to grasp, even on a trip where I've been up by 7:30 almost every day. At least it'll be nice and cool at that hour.

Though it was only about 6:30, we read for a couple more hours, then went to sleep. Because, again, what else can do all the way out here?!

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Last updated: 11 Nov 2001 18:34:54