There’s nothing to do, people told me, but that’s fine. Chill on a beach. Get a drink or two. Eat. Snorkeling trips on the barrier reef. Have a wander. Meet new people, because everyone is so remarkably friendly. Get a new necklace (of course, with my jewelry addiction). Met up with about twenty or thirty members of the British Army – my papa would’ve been proud. Ended up swinging on swings in a bar, drinking Monkey Lalas (banana, chocolate and RUM!), dancing, watching them pole dance (including some sergeant who was apparently pretty high up!), speed date, and embarrass the name of the British Army. Fun nights.
As I was dancing, I realized I haven’t danced that much recently – yes, on this trip a few times, but I kind of haven’t been dancing much the past few months. And it feels GOOD to let loose.
But Caye Caulker is a pretty chill place – the beaches aren’t great, so I can’t settle here. I need to live by a beach. As I ran on the sand around the island this morning, I thought of how a 10 year relationship with a marine biologist, plus growing up on Long Island close to the beaches, has instilled a love of beaches in me. One day I’ll live closer to the beaches, or on the beach – it’s just something I know, like when I was in high school, I knew I’d live in New York City. I don’t know where it will be, but one day, I’ll have that little beach cabana with Luna (or Luna Junior, if it isn’t that soon), enjoying the sunrises, sunsets, and everything else in between. I want it to be like the cabanas on the Corn Islands where from bed I could see the sun rising or setting or just the beach, ocean waves crashing, that soothing sound. The soothing sound of home.