Alan now studies, practices and teaches skills in the wild. This series of travel stories reflects on his past adventures before he acquired some much-needed knowledge.
Acquaintances of ours established a yacht charter business around the Belize Cayes and along the Rio Dulce into Guatemala. We provide them with supplies of their favorite foods in exchange for a dream vacation in Central America at a low price.
Our vacation started with a night out in Belize City, where the nightlife is wild and varied, but also mostly illegal and dangerous, and everyone referred to us as Honkies.
Three days on the ship and our friend transformed into a trashy dictator, the ship in his island nation and us in his incapable people. At one point my wife was scolded for spilling a glass of water. Do we have a boat? It was impossible to sleep in the intense heat and in a cramped cabin, so I invariably slept on deck where I was likely to run into the sleepwalking captain naked and wake up in the middle of a tropical storm, which is pretty cold by the way. .
After a week of sleep deprivation, my wife and I would spend the early hours counting the mosquito bites on her legs. We would apply a yellow antiseptic cream to them and, having reached the dizzying heights of 186 assorted bites, she would come out only to be shooed away in all directions by the locals at the sight of her.
For a complete change we rent a canoe. Unfortunately, a storm blew in and we were only saved by packing water with my souvenir straw hat. We only had four days to go when I noticed a nasty rash on my face that turned into a vast plain of cold sores oozing pus and scaring the local kids.
We managed to convince a tour operator that we were not a health risk to remote tribes and set out on a long drive to visit the Mayan ruins in the jungle. As the guide stood proudly in front of a pile of rocks and explained that the Mayans were the greatest civilization the earth had ever known, and ignoring my questions about what had happened since then, my wife created a diversion from what was clearly it would become confrontational by having a close encounter with what the guide described as a spider wasp. When we got everyone back together, I noticed that my left foot was disproportionately uncomfortable. The guide kindly explained that everyone should be careful not to stand on a red ant nest.
We salute you energetically from the airport.
My face healed in time for my tan to fade, but I was worried it would turn into a large lump on my right shoulder that alternately itched and ached and showed no signs of abating. My colleagues were concerned about the blood stains on my shirt and I visited the occupational doctor. Putting his vast knowledge of tropical diseases at my disposal, he diagnosed an insect bite.
Four weeks after returning, I saw my wife’s reflection in the mirror as I recoiled in horror as I changed my dresser and hysterically explained that I had a shrimp-like animal with disproportionately large black eyes living on my back.
It appears he had a stowaway, although from his perspective a kidnapping charge might have been more appropriate. He developed a keen interest in the hospital emergency department and the receptionists were horrified. His panic was evident when they actually wrote down animal trainer which I had jokingly named as my occupation.
I took the alien out at knifepoint and sealed it in a glass case. We never found out what it was, or more importantly, what it would have become, but I do know that there are more species of wildlife in a square mile of Belizean rainforest than in the whole of the UK.
The following year we had our holidays in Pembrokeshire.
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