Children playing under a palm tree on the beach in Hopkins, Belize.
My favourite moment of travelling is the moment when the road stops and the ocean starts. Waves are rushing to the coast and there is no way to continue. You have reached your destination. My second favourite moment is swimming in front of my own private beach. I float on my back and look how the fish-hunting pelican’s wing is almost brushing my cheek. It’s so close. I have definitely reached my destination- Hopkins, Belize.
Tom in bus stop in Belize
You know you’ve been travelling in Belize for too long when… 1. You count your experiences in bug bites, not in days. 2. You know that there’s “no working during drinking hours” and that Belikin is “the only beer worth drinking”. 3. You start to wonder if you’ll ever get tired of rice and beans. Naaaah! 4. Marie Sharp is rapidly becoming the most important female figure in your life. To the point you get
the swing bridge in Belize City
Huge abandoned houses. The terrible smell of sewage. A guy sleeps on the pavement in broad sunlight. A rusty iron bridge belongs more in some prison movie than in a tropical holiday destination. Old men shout at us from across the street. Dented, miserable-looking cars, rows and rows of closed shops. A little girl runs on the pavement full of holes. This apocalyptic atmosphere belongs to Belize City. We were just walking towards our hostel
Pineapple field on the Stardust Sanctuary Farm
I ignore the blisters on my rugged hands as I tear a vine with a seemingly never-ending root from the soil. Yes, those hands that are routinely darting over the keyboard and performing other delicate tasks. After all, we become writers because we’re afraid of hard physical work, the heavy lifting and the spine-breaking labour in construction or on the field. I twist out yet another turf of grass, toss it on the ever-growing pile and
A sign on the Stardust Sanctuary Farm reads 'the end is near'
Entering a new culture, you often wonder: is it safe? If you don’t know what to expect, you expect the worst. The first week in my cute little student town in Tartu I walked around with a pocket knife in my palm. Just because I didn’t know the place and the people. Once it was dark outside, my brain started to emit fear. I’m not walking around with a knife anymore, but strange places still