I love to torture my husband. I know that sounds terrible, but it's true. Nothing fills me with glee quite like putting Rob in situations where he is out of his element. Last weekend, we took a long overdue and much deserved mini-vacation to Ambergris Caye, Belize. Somehow, I managed to cram my husband into a run down bus, a tiny puddle jumper and a budget level hotel room...all in the course of just five short days. Joy!

 Despite our best effforts we embarked on the first leg of our journey three hours later than we had "planned". The drive to Chetumal was easy and uneventful. It's about 4 hours from Playa to the Belizean boarder (moving along at a pretty good clip).

We snuck our car in the parking lot in the back of the Coco's Hotel and caught a cab to the crossing.  The immigration/customs process is kind of a nusance. First, one must stop before crossing the bridge into Belize and have your documents checked which, in our case, means both our US passports and our Mexican FM-3s. From there, you drive to the actual immigration center where your documents are checked again and your bags inspected (sort of but not really) at customs. It is important to know that the only forms of currency accepted in Belize are the Belizean and US dollars. Coming into the country armed only with pesos proved problamatic. We were instructed to get our money changed and pointed in the direction of some sketchy (really not strong enough a desciptor) gentlemen on the otherside of a tall chain link fence. Yes, one would think that there would be a small kiosk or casa de cambio onsite for such transactions....but no. (Note to self: Open a money changing booth at the Mexico/Belize boarder. I should probably also mention that while the currency rate for US-Belizean dollars is pegged by the government at 1 to 2, the rate for conversion from pesos varies. The best rate we ever received was here at the scary fence. Hmmm.

After navigating through immigration, we followed the crowd outside to an empty parking lot where Rob looked in vain for a cab to haul us to the airport in Corozal. No dice. Instead, much to my husband's great dismay, we were herded onto an old, repainted schoolbus. Joy! My adorable husband hates busses. The look on his face was priceless. We didn't have exact change to give the crazed Belizean youth charged with collecting the fare so, of course, that means we didn't have to pay. I'll be certain to put those two dollars to good use later.

From the bus station, located in the bustling metropolis of downtown(?) Corozal we managed to find a cab and off we went to the airport. Yippee!

This is the airport in Corozal. I'm not really sure one runway cut into a sugarcane field constitutes an airport, but so be it.

This is the Tropicair "Terminal". We were flying out on the last flight of the day to San Pedro.


My request for a Kosher Meal was denyed.

At least Rob got the special seat I requested for him. More joy!

Flying over Corozal Bay.

Next stop: San Pedro on Ambergris Caye, Belize. Stay tuned for Part 2.