When you find yourself in an opulent house on a tropical beach with a group of interesting people, you relax and let it happen. You live the dream.
Stare at the sky. Listen to the clacking palms. Breathe in the salt air.
Recline on the pool deck with coffee and your laptop. Or, if you are Bob, lean over a balcony to photograph Sean reclining on the pool deck.
Choose one of a hundred comfortable chairs and tell stories. I toyed with the idea of sitting in every chair in the place, both inside and out, but the task seemed too onerous.
Work on your bird list with a beer. Banter with your friends.
Eat. Or, if you are Sean, think of something else fun to make for everyone to eat.
Go to Turtle Inn’s Mare Restaurant for dinner. Sit at a long table with a dozen others and dig into the Dutch-Indonesian Style Rijstaffel (rice table). Lean back in your chair, rub your stomach, and search the crowd for celebrities.
Watch the young guys polish off dribs and drabs until all food is consumed.
Go shopping at the local Publics. Laugh at the Belizean Creole. Buy beans, not chicken.
Highlight your snorkel burn by wearing pink.
Thank the powers that be for our good fortune.
Watch the sun rise over the ocean, one last time.
Watch it through the palms.
Enjoy a foot massage.
Wax philosophical in your jammies against an unbelievable back drop.