It’s 03:00. Scrape scrape scrape. I only know that cause I have to look at my phone as I come to in Caye Caulker. What did I do last night? Why am I waking up? Why is it so windy? Ah yes, I’m awake because I’m itchy and it’s been windy for three freaking days now so why am I still curious about the wind? It’s ever present and just is.

Scrape scrape scrape.

I’ve been in-country for 83 hours (at the time of writing this) and it doesn’t feel like I’ve left the States. There has been lots and lots of drinking – Belikin!! As well as lots and lots of eating of the lobsters – which is why I travel. I don’t normally consume lots of lobster because it’s expensive and expensive is not my style but here in Belize, everything seems like a bargain.

Scrape scrape scrape.

Mostly because it’s a 2:1 exchange rate so you look at the menu and everything is half off so fuck yeah I’m eating lobster and yes, thank you, I’d love some lobster ceviche best viche.

Cadre we’re up on lobster! Like, forever. Maybe. I never thought I’d say this but if I don’t eat lobster for the rest of my life I’ll probably be OK (which I’ve never considered that there was ever, ever a Lobster Limit). Every meal here has involved lobster of some sort. Now that I think about it, that’s a good problem to have.

This trip has been fantastic. It saw the birth of our new travel company: BJ Travel Tours  – Have BJ, will travel
which is less a company (by that I mean it’s not a company at all) and more of a…we’re going to travel regularly so let’s make it as weird as we can. We may not be good at many things, like keeping memories, being nice, or being sober, BUT we’re good at being weird and awkward, mofos.

Four months ago I went to my first (possibly last) all-inclusive resort. Which was very nice but I don’t think that nice life is for me. Here in Caye (pronounced key for some reason but in my head I call it kay) Caulker, I think I’ve re-found my speed and why I travel. Like and unlike Cancun medium-est cun (lol autocorrect had medium-est in the dictionary), where everything could be brought to you, here it’s a similar concept – everything’s at your beck and call, except you have to walk to go get it.

Scrape scrape scrape.

Beer, food, whatever you like. Which is why I travel. The bonus is you see some stuff you don’t see at home. Beaches, waves, and mostly, everyone happy.

Exactly like Cancun, all we’ve done here is drink and eat and be merry. Which, now that I think about it, is my life. Maybe less the drinking and more the eating and being merry because being sad sucks so don’t be sad bitches. Be merry as fuck.

Here’s the routine – wake up with no alarm except for maybe the scrape scrape scrape and realize that cadre I’m up on sobriety which means I’m black on a buzz. Oh ho ho have I got the remedy for you.

Our third day on the island we were walking down the main street and we kept seeing bars we’d been in…only we didn’t remember being there. But there was lots of “man this place looks familiar” and then through some combined memories we CSI’ed our previous night. The bar with the swings. The bar with the skulls. The bar with the stuff and things and oh yeah, how the hell did we make it there? This is why I travel.

But here I am in bed, middle of the night. Itchy as hell (bug bites worst bites) and again I hear the scrape scrape scrape of a palm tree brushing up against my tiny hut. It doesn’t do it all night (twss), only when a giant gust of wind comes crashing through our neck of the woods. Scrape scrape scrape. It’s different, but not much different than home. Only at home it’s not a palm tree and there’s not three days of wind or any scraping so maybe not at all like home but now I realize that this is why I travel – to be reminded of home.

Scrape scrape scrape.