There is a giant Iguana outside of our bathroom window watching us shower. About the size of Goddess, my beautiful 70 pound dog, the Iguana is gold with brown claws and stipes around its thick long tail. It's a punk Iguana because it's got spiked hair. It is not a sissy Green Iguana but a Lesser Antilliean one. And it hasn't moved in the last twenty-four hours, just lying there on the branch of a Palm Tree waiting for us to take showers. Apparently, Peeping Tom laws are pretty loose in Belize.
"Can it get inside," Sarah asked?
"Sure," I replied, showing her that the Palm Trees lean onto the third floor Varanda that we're staying in, "it'd be easy if it wanted to."
It's a big Veranda with a table, four chairs and a hammock. Two large French doors lead into a large bedroom and living room area. A good size bathroom is at the other end. The Iguana obviously prefers trees with a view.
Besides there are plenty of coconuts in these trees. The one beside me right now has about fifty green balls ripening in the sun. This reminds me that I need to have a Rum and Coconut Water today.
We were getting ready for the ten minute taxi ride back into Placentia, the small fishing village with the world's tinest road. A reggae band was playing at a bar called Barefoot which I love because that is my shoe of choice. So I didn't wear any. The Iguana seemed unconcerned about any of this.
When we arrived at Barefoot, Richie, our seven foot tall mammoth of a taxi driver, got out with us. He would hang with his friends until we were ready to leave. Besides, there is absolutely nothing else going on in this tiny seaside village.
Barefoot is an open air with no walls serving food with the bar in the middle. Tables are strewed everywhere in no particular order. Grabbing a table for two beside where a wall would have been had there been walls, locals congregate beside us just outside of the restaurant. The white ones look weatherworn and leathery and the black ones are smooth, wearing sunglasses at night or picking their massive Afro's.
Stars are ablaze in the sky and there are no lights to deminish the spectacular show that they're putting on for free. Mostly residential, the people of Placencia wander up and down the street as we order drinks. The shipment for Chardonney didn't come in so I am forced to drink a Beach Bum ... two different rooms with orange and pineapple juices. Sarah has Rootbeer.
The band took the stage and ... watched soccer while they played Reggae. A large screen television was behind them showing soccer from somewhere and the band was revited. Nevertheless, they sounded pretty good so American tourists and locals danced. We join them, twiring and swinging around the make shift dance floor.
Grilled pineapple, blackened shrimp and sausage comprise our meal as we discuss the future and the things that await us when we return home tomorrow. It's one of those intensly serious conversations that is continuously broken up by ... where we are.
We stroll down the sleepy street of the village which are dark with families sitting inside of their tiny shacks with lights on as they do whatever they do at night. Returning to Barefoot we retrieve Richie who brings his friend along for our ride back to Robert's Grove.
It is only 9:45 but everything is quiet. We return to our room. The Iguana remains in the tree. Feeling that we owe him something, we give it to him.
This morning ... he's waiting for more.
