One of the owners of the Adventure Inn was nice enough to drive Fred and I back to Corozal, so we could catch our buses. Fred was headed to Belize City where he would catch his first flight on his way back to Virginia, while I was looking for a bus north to Mexico and the Mayan Ruins of Tulum. The first bus I caught took me to the border, and continued on to the city of Chetumal, Mexico. The ride was uneventful and rather boring with not much to see out the window except flat bush. Now I face a three hour wait for the bus to Tulum, and I find myself once again, floundering as I try to communicate in Spanish.
This is kind of a junky bus station. It is hot and muggy and there is the smell of urinal sanitation substances that permeate the air. The loud speaker periodically blurts out something unintelligible, and the gray metal lockers across from me have a visible historical record of the thousands of grimy fingers that have touched them. I am going outside.
I found an outdoor restaurant and bought a ham sandwich and a Coke, then wandered across the busy street where I spend another hour and a half watching people and trying to read this very slow history-essay book that Fred gave me. I finally had had enough of that place on earth, so I walked back across the street to the bus terminal where I waited out the last fifteen minutes before my bus arrived.
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