Belize, Orange Walk Town - Lamanai Ruins and Orange Punch

Last Updated on 22nd December 2020

My first impression of Orange Walk Town was that there wasn’t much to it. It seemed to consist of one long dusty road guarded by near ramshackle buildings, like a scene from a Western movie. However, my time at Orange Walk and the people I met have stayed with me to this very day. It’s an experience I will never forget.

I arrived at my hotel hot, dehydrated, tired, and extremely grumpy. All I wanted was some water and my room. The staff at Hotel de la Fuente welcomed me as if I was part of their family. Upon seeing my dishevelled state, they sat me down with water and a snack, encouraging me to relax while they took care of everything for me. Nothing was a problem. Even going out of their way to find me an adapter (I had packed the wrong one, or the right one but wrong country) eventually finding a British guest who had a spare. I still have that charger, I see it as a souvenir of my time in Central America. We shall never part, me and that charger.

After checking in, I wandered down the main street in a daze, quickly discovering that the main street wasn’t so ramshackle after all. I stopped at a supermarket for snacks and Marie Sharp’s Hot Sauce, which I refused to leave Belize without. I returned to my hotel before I collapsed with exhaustion, with hot sauce in hand, to recharge for my trip to Lamanai the next morning. Munching on my snacks while watching some documentary about Starbucks. All in all, it was quite a surreal day.

Bright and early the next day, my Lamanai tour guide, Carlos, arrived to whisk me away for my next adventure. After twenty minutes of catching up with the hotel staff we were on our way, on yet another long dusty journey (something that I would get use to during my time in Central America). We arrived, somewhat late, at the New River where our boat awaited along with the rest of the tour group who had been patiently waiting after enduring their own long journey from the Cayes.

As soon as the boat left the jetty, we were offered a beer or two. Unusually, I politely declined. It was a sweltering Belizean day and the challenge of climbing high structures laid ahead. The trip down New River to the ruins was sublime; exotic birds, bats, monkeys and crocodiles guiding us along the way. Then without warning we gained an extra passenger…

Arriving back on land we made our way through the jungle to the Lamanai ruins. Lamanai, meaning submerged crocodile in Mayan (the Spanish transcribed it wrong and Lamanai actually means drowned insect), is the third largest archeological site in Belize. It was occupied as early as 500 BC and as late as the 1600s. The visitor site features three large pyramids, the Mask Temple, Jaguar Temple and High Temple.

The first structure we encountered was the Jaguar Temple aka Structure N10-9, constructed around 500-500AD, named so because of the two jaguars cleverly created by stone patterning on the front.

Next it was a gander at the Royal Complex and ball court before heading to a smaller pyramid named Stela 9.

Stela 9 was erected at the end of the Middle Classic period and depicts Lord Smoking Shell holding a double headed ceremonial bar diagonally across his chest. While I was “ohing” and “ahing” at this wonder I noticed that Lord Smoking Shell was made of fibre glass. Did the Mayan’s invent fibre glass!?! Sensing my confusion, the tour guide confessed that this was a replica and the original was displayed in the nearby museum.

Another trek through the jungle took us to the aptly named High Temple. Standing at 108 feet (33 metres) high it was enormous. Built circa 100BC is it one of the largest securely dated Mayan temples. There was only one thing to do and that was to climbed it. All 108 feet. It was difficult but worth the effort due to amazing view of the surrounding jungle upon reaching the top.

Last but not least was the Mask temple (masks not original), dating from the 5th\6th century. It’s only little at 13 feet high but it was still a hard slog to climb after climbing it’s bigger siblings, the Jaguar and High temples.

After we had our fair share of Mayan temples it was back to the river for more beer and a nice lunch of black beans and rice. Next we were back on our way down the New River with Carlos making us rum punch, which was definitely a punch of rum.

Arriving back at the original dock, the Cayes tour group were bundled on a chicken bus to get their boat back to the island, while I stood there like a child forgotten by their parents, wondering how on earth I was going to get back. Finally Carlos admitted we had been let down by our driver therefore he would have to take me back to my hotel via boat, profusely apologising. I don’t why, it was the perfect ending to my day. A private tour of the New River, more beer, and an excursion to the sugar factory.