Last summer I came across a random blog post about the country of Belize. I’m pretty sure it was one Google search later that took me to TripAdvisor where the Maya Beach Hotel stood out to me as the place I should stay.Not hardly any research was put into it, more of a feeling that this was the country to go visit, and Maya Beach Hotel was the place to stay.

It’s how I roll when I travel. Was it worth the gamble? I arrived after dusk, and the lobby was tiny and cramped, to say the least. Behind the front desk was the gentleman I’d been emailing with the previous months about various things, so I did feel good that he was there and checking me in.

“Let me take to your place where you can get refreshed, then come back to the bar anytime and we’ll get you something to eat.”

We go around the corner and in the pitch black darkness I hear ocean waves, but no lights lead the way to my abode. Then we come to a house with outside porch lights on….

I wonder which room will be mine, and how intrusive it will be having others staying here as well. That didn’t last long though as I was informed the entire place was for me.

This is more like it! A few steps to the ocean, a large patio deck for my leisure, and no neighbors close by.

I had nothing but time. Time to read pages as the waves lapped against the shore. Time to nap in my hammock, listening to the breeze.

Time to ride a local bike into town and shop in the local store for necessities, filling my basket to the brim.

I’d sit on the pier for hours, watching stingrays fly out of the ocean and flap as they would catch the sun’s rays before descending. Needle fish would feed below me, picking food off the wooden pier posts in the water. Jellyfish would occasionally pass by. All manner of birds would eat in the abundant waters.

From glorious sunrises to humbling sunsets, I was taking it all in. ( When I wasn’t gorging on the succulent cuisine the hotel offered. Truly out of this world!)

After a week here, boarding our little puddle jumper to take me back Stateside was bittersweet. Bitter because of not wanting to leave the special little town of Placencia in Belize.

Sweet because at least I was able to go.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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