Day four was the pleasant-sounding HARVEST CAYE, a private island owned by Norwegian Cruise Line. It’s only about a mile long and a couple hundred yards wide and looked like a green exclamation point fringed with sand from the balcony on our cruise ship.
The Norwegian Escape was too big to moor at the dock, as we had done on a smaller ship a few years back, so we anchored offshore and then caught local tender ferries for the ten minute sardine can ride to the island.
Harvest Caye is the classic Disney jungle theme park — a knockoff version of the Caribbean without the sketchy people or dirty surroundings — offering the usual overpriced amenities: expansive beach, with row-after-row of lounge chair seating, all facing the sea as if in an outdoor theater; kayak and paddle board rentals in the lush mangrove lagoon; zip line rides off the faux lighthouse; a giant amoeba-shaped pool attached to the standard issue Land Shark bar and restaurant, blasting Buffett & Marley; a cute little wildlife preserve, complete with psychedelic blue Morfo and brown Owl butterflies, parrots, iguanas, big snakes in their own leafy cages; smiling local Belizeans in blue polo shirts ready to assist with your every need; all topped off with brightly-painted cabanas full of genuine Chinese made Mayan treasures that cost ten times what they’re worth. We’re talking all the right ingredients for a cheesy day in Paradise. And you best Belize it!
We were informed that when someone in Belize asks, “How was your day?” the proper response is, “Unbelizeable.”
After five hours at Harvest Caye, I can honestly say that I learned absolutely nothing about Belize, except that for my money Belekin beer, Belize’s national favorite, is the best beer in the Caribbean.
As we were leaving Harvest Caye, we noticed a huge wildfire on the mainland. It seemed way too wet for a fire to catch on its own, so I figured they were probably clearing the jungle to make way for more prosperity.
The islands and nations of the Caribbean have become the world’s winter wonderland. They sit right on the doorstep of the Northern Hemisphere and it’s the only place that’s guaranteed to be warm between December and March — other than Australia. And who wants to fly for fifteen hours to the land down under? Especially now that it’s burning too.
So, forget your woes and hop a plane or a big ship and head south to where it’s always summer and the party never stops.
Because it turns out that Bob Marley was wrong. These days, the crazy bald heads are always welcome, Mon.
