Something quite frightening and ominous happened this morning. As per usual on a Sunday morning, I got into shorts, tee shirt and flip flops to go out and do a little gardening before breakfast. When I stepped out the door, a cold wind hit me. Still not wide awake, I got myself a sweatshirt and went back outside. Then it struck me.
It was cold. Fall cold. A pretty reliable indicator that in the weeks ahead (except for a 50/50 chance of an Indian summer week toward the end of the month), it would get colder still. I would have to order in a cord of wood. I'd have to wrap the pipes at some point. Make sure the sauna was working. Put a fresh edge on my skis. Trim back trees. Get winter clothing out...
...Yikes. Make plans to get me out.
There was a time when like the fabled grasshopper I would wait until I could actually see my breath rising from beneath a half dozen blankets in the morning before I would run screaming to the phone and call every editor I knew until I convinced someone to send me south, way south, anywhere south as long as it was warm south. There was no plan, just a panicked retreat from the cold.
Sometimes it worked well. Flyfishing in Argentina, rafting in Peru, trekking in Chile or surfing in Mexico. Sometimes it didn't work out so well: There was that unfortuante trip to Lago Atitlan where I was robbed by Guatemalan bandits or the assignment that required me standing for endless hours in a dripping Amazonian rainforest covered in a cloud of mosquitos while watching an ethnobotanist count vines.
For the past several years I've tried to get in touch with the ant side of my brain to ensure that at least one week per winter is spent luxuriating and playing in at least one tropical wonderland.
I have a hankering this year to spend time in Belize.
My first choice this year is the Kanantik Reef and Jungle Resort in Southern Belize. The 300 acre eco resort has alot of what you'd expect: 1300 feet of private, pristine white sand beach, a long dock, dive boats, swimming pool and a great kitchen featuring local seafood and pizza from a wood fired oven. However, what's really motivating me to book a week there is its size. There are just 25 individual luxury palapas spaced around the property, which means ample privacy in the room and no worries about being elbow to elbow with the other guests around the pool, on the beach or in the dining room.
Other tantalizing options at Kanantik are access to the world's only jaguar sanctuary and excursions to Mayan ruins.
I'm usually not too ambitious when I go to a place like this—they often offer more than even a triple AAA personality can do in a week. I always feel like if I'm not doing everything on offer then I'm not getting my money's worth ... or worse ... I feel like I'm a total loser if I'm not trashed and exhausted by 6pm ... a real impediment to a long and civilized cocktail hour. One of the things that really impresses me about Kanantik is a great balance between activities such as diving (and I hope saltwater flyfishing) and their understanding that some people are just as happy in a deck chair at the water's edge reading some massive tome they bought in the airport bookstore on the way down.
Check it out: www.kanantik.com
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