The crossing

Twenty or so miles north of Orange Walk lie the ruins of Cerros, an ancient Mayan outpost overlooking the natural harbor near modern-day Corozal, Belize. The only way to get there is with a 4x4 with plenty of ground clearance. As soon as you get off the beaten bath, you get on the battered path, resembling Verdun at around 1917. It's slow going unless you want to blow a tire, and that would be quite a pickle given the seclusion.

About three miles in (that's about twenty minutes), we came to what looked like an insurmountable barrier: the New River. All we could see on the other side was an illegible sign and what looked like a wrecked barge.

While contemplating whether to turn and head back, we noticed the barge getting ever so slowly closer. Faint cheesy melodies from a low-amp boom box betrayed the presence of a crew.

It was a makeshift ferry, cranked back and forth across the river by two diligent locals. You pay a small fee for passage, and they'll get you across. But one of the gents had no qualms about handing over the cranking duty to an overly ambitious gringo.

After disembarking, we headed on toward Cerros...strangely, the ferry was the highlight of the trip. A week later we learned that only a few days after our crossing a couple had forgotten to put on their parking break while on the same ferry. Let's hope their insurance covered that mishap.