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I walked across the bridge around the corner into the marina terminal and caught a water taxi to the island Caye Caulker. I took the water taxi back to Belize City two hours later, unplanned.
I walked around the island for two hours. I visited the split. I ate stewed chicken with rice beans and potato salad at a place called Aunties Kitchen; sat there feeding a dog my chicken skin and bits of chicken while deciding on what to do about staying in Caye Caulker.
I could find that without the tourist vibe four hours south in Dangriga. The strange empty feeling I had in Caye Caulker left me as I crossed the swinging bridge and walked back into the frenetic scene. I fell back in line with the sensory explosion of noise and motion, dust, exhaust, people, shacks, the shanty town feeling.
As I was walking down the street a Creole man caught my attention with a fist bump and he began chatting with me. His name was George. I asked him if Belize City was dangerous and he said only for locals, only certain parts.