Ambergris Caye is famous for many things. Among the most famous, its pothole-filled streets.
It is just the nature of island living. We are sitting on a fluid pile of sand, silt and rock that shifts and seeps and moves with the wind and the rain. Especially the rain.
So, it is not unusual to see a town truck drop crushed rock on a badly pocked stretch of road, only to have the craters back in a matter of days.
Which brings me to the absolutely brilliant idea I had this morning as I walked along Boca Del Rio. While grappling with sun stroke.
Just kidding. No sunstroke. But really, it is a brilliant idea.
In a word: bottlecaps. (Spellcheck tells me bottlecaps is two words. Not in my blog, Spellcheck. Back off, or I’ll break you up into “spell” and “check.”)
Bear with me.
While walking, I noticed an especially flat section of the road. Believe me, when you see a flat section of an unpaved road in the midst of undulations, crevices and craters then it behooves you to investigate.
For whatever reason — and I think the number of nearby bars has something to do with it — bottlecaps galore are embedded into the road. Mostly Belikin, of course.
My theory is that the serrated edge of the caps provides an interlocking effect that retards the the erosion of the roads. The more caps slammed into the soil, the greater the surface cohesion.
The beautiful thing is there is an infinite supply of bottlecaps, as we drink a lot of beer here. Almost all of it Belikin.
And we’re lucky: The public seems attuned to tossing their caps on the ground already. We just have to get people to aim for the road. The constant traffic of golf carts, taxi vans and pickup trucks will do the rest.
Well, that’s all I’ve got. And the sunstroke is making me dizzy.
Just think about it. Since you are going to toss your bottlecaps on the ground anyway, toss them where they will do the most good.
Next week: How used Styrofoam cups, plates and containers can be turned into the home of your dreams . . .