Finca Camping

Just a few miles from the Belize border, we took a short-cut down a gravel road that was supposed to save us some time on the way to Poptun. We asked a kid at the intersection if this was the correct road and he said it wasn’t. We turned off anyway and, of course, it was the correct road. So far, asking directions gives random results. It seems we might be better off just following our instincts.

We drove for over an hour on decent gravel through lush green farm land. There was sign after sign advertising “Toros se vende.” The road was bearable, but we were very happy to see pavement ahead of us when we met up with the main north-south highway to Poptun.

We had heard great things about Finca Ixobel and we were not disappointed. It’s a very relaxed farm that’s really more of a hostel. They pointed us to the campground and said we could park and camp anywhere. We picked a treehouse with hammocks and nice porch.

Everything here works on the honor system. Just go to the fridge and get a drink and put a mark next to your name. The food here was stellar (and a bargain) and I’m pretty sure I gained some weight after only two days. Although we didn’t join the backpackers for a night out, there’s a bar down by the pond and happy hour starts at 10 pm. We were fast asleep.

At only 600 meters, it’s still a bit warm in the evenings, but still pleasant enough for camping.

I will mostly remember this as the place that I learned – for the first time – that my wife is absolutely horrible at ping pong. Embarrassingly bad. Why didn’t I know this earlier? I’m pretty sure she’s been hiding this from me our entire relationship. Bode learned what it means to ‘skunk’ someone.

From here, we made the rather bad decision to drive south towards Rio Dulce. I thought I would be able to take a dirt road that cuts over towards Sumec Champey via Sebol. I asked at least 4 people at the turn-off, hoping for a different answer, but they all said to forget it. We continued to Rio Dulce. I’m still wondering if I should have tried it.

We made it to the Rio Dulce and quickly found a place to stay near the lake with A/C. This is supposedly a popular hangout with the yachting crowd, but it looked more like a floating RV park to us. One old salty guy actually looked exactly like a pirate, with the hat and everything. Definitely a lifestyle choice.

It’s unbearably hot here, so our primary goal was to figure out where to go next. After briefly considering taking the boat trip up to Livingston to see the Guatemalan Caribbean, we decided to high-tail it to somewhere cooler.