Case and I drinkie too muchie the night before, but we dragged our carcasses out of bed and managed to make it to Lance’s gaff before noon.
Today we’d be visiting Lance’s island… Dead Man’s Island. And since the island might well be haunted, we bought a weally weally cute PUPPY with us for protection.
On the way to the island, Lance took us into the town centre where we attended a charity barbecue.
After which we headed up the New River towards Dead Man’s Island.
Ooh look – there’s our boat ready to go!
Once on the island, we unpacked Gringo…
Lance took him for a swim…
…and Casey and I went for a hack through the jungle, which culminated in some kick-ass photos of us doing our best Ginger Indy/Ginger Lara impressions.
After a good bit of exploring (the ants make superhighways which criss-cross the entire island and turkey vultures don’t half produce a lot of shit) we met back up with Lance and Gringo.
And took the little rowboat back to the “mainland”.
Adiós Dead Man’s Island!
That night headed back to the ranch to watch Manny Pacquiao and Timothy Bradley knocking seven shades of crap out of each other on the telly.
After a few (probably too many) cold ones and Lance filling in his colourful backstory on the mean streets of LA, we crashed out on the floor of the room behind the bar. Tomorrow we’d be heading over the northern border to Mexico in search of adventure, excitement and more bits of Mayan awesomeness. Thanks Lance!!