Month: December 2015

In the master bedroom of our palatial suite on the shores of La Isla Bonita, we have a very nice bed with a thick duvet covering it. The bedroom, like the rest of the suite, is tastefully decorated. There are candles in hurricane lamps, wicker baskets on the floor and the stairs to the tub, a 5 foot tall painting, and a couple of tastefully framed pictures.

Next to the door leading to the lanai is a wooden painted giraffe that stands about three feet tall. Alone he is kind of cute, but nothing special. Your eyes focus on him for a moment before drifting off to something else, like the amazing view out the large windows. He is the type of thing you might find in Pier One Imports.

However, our first night as we climbed into bed, we noticed his long neck and head stretching above our covered feet. His head was turned ever so slightly so he appeared to be staring at us. Worse still, the first thing we noticed when we woke up was our little creepy giraffe staring at us. “What are you doing? Did you sleep well? Did you wear pajamas to bed?” He seemed to be questioning us, our creepy little giraffe. It made me a little uncomfortable to get out of bed.

Each day of our trip, I noticed him more as I entered the room or walked by him. Getting into or out of bed, we would always make eye contact, and I was always the one to look away first. When I woke in the middle of the night, he was there, his neck stretched, holding his ever curious head up to look at me. “Is everything alright? I notice that you are not sleeping.”

Tonight is our last night in Belize, and I am sure our bedroom giraffe knows it. He’ll be watching as I climb into bed, and there when I get up tomorrow morning. I’m sure he will observe my packing to make sure I don’t forget anything, paying extra close attention to any undergarments that I may be trying to stealthily pack. As we walk out of the room, I know he will be standing there, neck stretched, gazing over the edge of the tall bed, waiting for the next people to stay in the room.

I’m going to miss our creepy little giraffe.

Sarah and I decided to bicycle into town for lunch today. There was a little restaurant named Elvi’s that several people had recommended to us. We grabbed a pair of bikes, and quickly rode the the three to four miles to our destination. (I know this is a little vague, but we were told it was three and a half miles to town, and Elvi’s was perhaps another half mile or so after crossing the bridge, so distance depends on where the “into town” point is located.)

We locked our bikes up, and once again wandered down the streets, looking into tourist shops and wondering the beach. When we had had enough, we went back to Elvi’s, and were brought into the dining room to sit. You entered into a normal wooden building, which was where the bar was located, but the dining room was under a very large palapa–a grass roofed hut, with or without walls; this one had walls. Aside from the high grass roof, the first thing I noticed was the floor inside the dining room was covered in sand. There were two young kids building sand castles next to their parent’s table. Sarah had lobster mac and cheese, while I had honey rum tacos. The food was excellent, although the chicken on my tacos was a little dry.

 

We finished up and rode back to Captain Morgan’s Retreat. I cannot remember whether I have mentioned this before, but we were lucky enough to be staying at the only resort that we saw that was proudly flying the skull and cross-bones.

Tonight was culture night, and we had reservations for the buffet. The entertainment left a little to be desired, but the food was good. Sarah and I were both exhausted, and went to bed as soon as we made it back to the condo. It was 8 at night–or only 6 Pacific time.