John, my folks and I made a stop at Epicure yesterday and started chatting about our favourite star sightings. My mother was convinced that the most amazing stars were seen when we were camping near the Algoma region (one day I’ll tell you about my glorious Greyhound ride to Port Elgin – glorious in this instance said entirely fastetiously). Waldo argued that it was in PEI. John thought that maybe that night that we were forced to sleep in the car on our way to Goderich showed off the most beautiful stars. I thought the most spectacular was right before the near-Apocalyptic-storm in Jibacoa (my first experience with horizontal lightning – wow).

But then we remembered. That storm. The storm. In Belize, just after landing in Caye Caulker, when we grabbed a bite and were strolling back to our room when the world above us just unzipped and poured the contents of it’s cup right onto our heads. We thought we were going to die. What made it worse, too, was that all the fiddler crabs were scared to pieces and climbed on top of each other on the sand, so we had to avoid crab-domes while still trying to stay alive. Nature certainly has a way of putting you in your place.

But then again, that whole trip was man-against-beast. Manta rays, Seahorses, algeal blooms, baby sharks, you name it. Do you ever have those moments when you sit back and remember certain stuff and you’re so overwhelmed by the adventure and richness of your experience that you wonder for a moment if you’re nutty and maybe made it all up? I used to read a lot, and I mean a lot, so I actually have to stop sometimes and think, “is this me pulling a Big Fish or was I actually there?”. I remember when we were in Placencia and took the kayak out for a spin to do a little snorkelling in the middle of the water. We swam and swam, and then got really hungry, not thinking that we were out of luck as every resto was paused between lunch and dinner service. We paddled up to a little nook where a couple of Americans were drinking Lighthouse Lager and learning about SCUBA diving (I had already gotten my PADI certification, and was hoping to dive the Blue Hole). The proprietor of the place, this awesome lady whose name I can’t remember for my life, apologized for being closed but offered to go to her house across the street and make us two fish sandwiches. I will never forget those sandwiches as long as I live – beautiful fresh bread, giant fillets of fish with egg and breading, cucumber, mustard, fresh tomato, lettuce.

And don’t even get me started on “Make Your Own Pizza” adventures at Agave Restaurant. Lobster, onion, garlic, pineapple. Enough said. Death By Deliciousness.

I swear, it’s all true.