The day we got there it was pretty nice. Sunny, with a few clouds and a fairly brisk wind (which is deadly when it's 25 degrees out, but pretty nice when it's 85)...
and the next day it rained.
Rain in the jungle.
Rain in the other jungle.
Rain at the zoo. Rain outside the cave.
Rain at the resort.
Rain at the reef. (HARD rain on the way back in!)
Rain at the spa.
So, RAIN RAIN RAIN all week. Well, it was beautiful the last day.
(The folks at the resort kept aw-shucks laughing that it hardly ever rains during this time of the year. Seriously, kind of FUCK YOU Belize.)
We were just glad that we decided not to get married that week, after all. We were looking at all of the honeymooning couple staring miserably out at the rain and at each other and were thanking the heavens (heh, even as we were roundly cursing them) that it wasn't our perfect, special, life- and love-affirming trip of all trips. So, uh, very small well-played, us.
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