Honduras in a Nutshell

Honduras overall only needs to be given a nutshell. It is not a much traversed place by travellers and is still fairly dangerous. Once we left our friends on Utila, we made our way on the aptly nicknamed ´vomit comet´ ferry. We decided to treat ourselves to a bit of white water rafting down the Rio Cangrejal. We stayed in a little eco lodge where they actually ask that you put toilet paper down the toilet. This sounds like a weird luxury, but after 3 months of having what has been dubbed the ´shit bin´ (the bin for your dirty toilet paper) staring you in the face, it really was refreshing. We had a crazy Irish guy as our head rafter, and we definitely had the most fun out of all the groups. We got pummelled by water and Dave went overboard, just excellent fun.
We then decided to head to Lago De Yojoa to stay at a micro-brewery. It was a lovely little place and Honduras is chock full of beautiful butterflies and birds and the beer was on draft and great. But as you can imagine with birds come bird watchers. I have since realised that bird watchers are a unique crowd and there is a reason they keep to themselves. We spent a couple of quiet days there and decided to take the advice of the owner on a different route to travel into El Salvador. Most of the way the road is unpaved, but we thought, sod it, we´ve come for an adventure. We took 3 different chicken buses to get to La Esperanza, where were told that we could get a bus to El Salvador. As it turns out, we got to La Esperanza and they said there was no way were going to make it to El Salvador today, we would have to stay in ´Colo´ for the night and get the bus at 5 the next morning direct to San Salvador. This was at 12 in the afternoon. We got on the bus to ´Colo´and by 4:30 we had reached Colomancagua, the farthest of the gringo trail I have ventured yet. The road to it was dusty and unpaved as was warned so we were more than happy to get off. I went into a little shop to find somewhere that did accomodation and we found ourselves a little room. The shower and toilet were in the room with us, shielded by a shower curtain over each. And yet, it had cable TV. The owners were lovely and despite our limited conversational skills they were very accomodating. Unfortunately, we found out that the bus to San Salvador doesn´t run on a Sunday, so we would have to spend an extra night. It started to chuck down with rain, but we went out anyway and bought a bottle rum and a bag of crisps to tide us over til dinner. As it turns out, places shut down quite early on a Saturday and we ended up going without dinner, but at least not without rum! The storm worsened and the electricity went out, so for the rest of the night. But we had a candle and an amazing electrical storm to watch. I´ve never seen lightening like it - every 5 - 10 seconds for hours. We woke up the next day and the electricity was still out, so we went for a walk and discovered it was market day. It was obviously the social event of the week and wasn´t much frequented by foreigners as I have never been stared at so much in my life. We actually had one drunken reveller (very drunk I might add) ask why we had come to this village. I think more by way of ´Why would you bother?´ than a get lost statement.
The next morning we deaprted at 5 in the morning with our hotel owner waving us good-bye. As we left we realised we had been staying in Hotel Dios, God´s Hotel. Again we got stared at quite intently as it was obviously a worker´s bus and mounted more unpaved roads. We got to San Miguel in El Salvador without having any form of real border crossing, just a couple of gaurds who stared malevolently at out passports. We were told here to get off to transfer to the capital, San Salvador. The thing I love about buses here is people come on and sell you everything you could possibly need. Hamburgers, fries, vegetables, fruits, crisps, water, juice, medication - I honestly wish we had this in England. So we were duly entertained for the hour bus journey to San Salvador by people selling us all sorts of stuff. Once there, we realised San Salvador was a horrible, sprawling place and headed straight to Playa Del Tunco, a nearby volcanic beach littered with surfers. So another 2 buses later, again around 4 in the afternoon, we landed at the beach. I was so exausted I could hardly speak and bedtime was swift upon me. Playa Del Tunco was nice for a couple of days if you don´t mind the narly man surfer dudes who think they are god´s gift to women. The beach was beautiful as I had never seen a black sand beach before, and tumbling around in the waves, even without a surf board, is much more fun than lounging in the Caribbean sea. Despite a bit of a run-in with the tourist police, it was fairly uneventful. Don´t worry, no prison tales yet, just a waggle of the finger and an óff you go.´
We had our fun with beaches, rum and coconuts there and headed straight back out of El Salvador, acutely aware that we had no stamp out of Honduras. We were about to chicken bus and chance it when a guy stopped where we were waiting for the bus and asked where we were going. As it turned out he was heading the same way, and I´d rather travel in a lexus than an old bluebird school bus any day. He managed to convince us to take a swanky bus as it was an 11 hour journey, called up, made arrangements for us, dropped us at the terminal and went on his merry way. We could not believe how much he did to help us out, and the very expensive bus journey was so unbelievably worth it. More leg room than I could shake a stick at, burger king lunch and dinner included in the cost, and 3 border crossings dealt with for us. Apart from the Honduran border. We were asked to get off the bus and talk to immigration. Here they insisted that Honduras has no lapse in their border, but for a small fee of $20 each, we could get our passports back-stamped. This day was my most expensive day to date, but I still reckon that bus was worth it. No one sitting in your lap, or an arse in your face, or a child being sick into a bag. Bliss.
This brings me almost up to date! We are now in Nicaragua, much safer than Honduras or El Salvador, and very beautiful. We stayed in Managua when we first arrived for 2 nights. Don´t ever bother doing this. Not much to see but a huge polluted lake that you run the risk of being mugged if you go to look at up close. General muted hostility from the locals and bloody hot.
We moved on to Leon where we bumped into a couple of guys we had chilled with in El Salvador who are cycling through central America. Nutters. Leon is lovely; colonial, friendly and laid back. We did volcano boarding at Cerro Negro, where you basically hike up a volcano and throw yourself down it on a board. Awesome fun! Unfortunately, there was a guy on the same tour who I had come across before. He is the typical hiking 'I´ve done everything and want to tell you all about it´ kinda guy. It provided amusement as Dave instantly picked up on this guys ultimate ego trip. It was greatly amusing at least.
The water is calling my name yet again, so I'll leave it there for now. There is more to tell, and grand plans to tell, mañana mañana!

Beach Bum

Now to update on everything over the past month. We spent longer than we should have done on Caye Caulker, although we saw Manatees and did an amazing snorkeling trip which ended with me almost blind drunk from the free rum punch they serve on the way back. We then moved over to San Pedro, its larger, sister island. We had a room with cable TV, our own bathroom, fridge, and the most impressive of all, hot water! Rosie and I initially headed over on our own and saw the TV, a sight our eyes had not clapped on in 2 months. We went straight out and bought a bottle of wine and settled down for a night of watching television. It was glorious. We ended up watching a lot of television while we were on San Pedro, and my eyes just are not used to it. They started to ache and I got a headache. Perhaps watching TV is not a healthy thing for children, I´m sure damage must be done to the eyes. Don´t get me wrong, I haven´t gone over to the other side, but when I get back in an environment where television is everywhere, I will make sure to curb my viewing.
Swedish friends of ours, Eric and Ida, wanted to join up with us again to do an island hopping sailing tour with our travel buddy Pricsilla. We met up and went on to a little camping spot called Barton Creek Outpost, a beautiful setting in the middle of nowhere. We canoed over to a cave and got ourselves a discount tour as the boss was away.The guy took us in and we got the rare treat of being able to hike above the water in the cave, something we were told they stopped doing years ago. It was lots of fun and then got to swim in the river that runs through the cave. As we left, we came across some Menonite teenagers sneaking their way in on a boat. There are a surprising number of Menonites who keep themselves to themselves, but are always happy to give you a wave as you drive past.
Rosie and I then moved on and took the opportunity to spend some time together travelling through southern Belize. We hopped on a little fishing boat from the Garifuna town of Dangriga and made our way over to Tobacco Caye, an island that takes 2 minutes to walk around. It is an island directly on the reef with amazing snorkelling from the moment you put your head under. But the best sight was seen in the boat on the way - my first live dolphin viewing. Just incredible. We stayed on the Caye for one night, a night enjoyed with some great Americans with a brilliant sense of humour (no, I´m not joking) and trdiational Garifuna drumming.
We then made our way to Hopkins on what felt like the party bus of Belize. Everyone was in grand spirits shouting and laughing with beers in hand. We ended up staying at a place called the Funky Dodo upon someone´s recommendation, and we were not disappointed. It is run by an English guy from Brighton who has a keen eye for a party. We ended up being invited to a party for the opening of a bar on a wharf. It was a brilliant night which ended in the morning with Rosie holding my hair and stroking my back as I emptied my stomach into a pan by the side of the bed. Classy, no, but a price worth paying, yes! Hopkins is a fishing village with a lovely, friendly vibe. A very laid back place and one of the cheapest places we found in Belize. I only wish we could have spent more time there.
We then moved on to find our friends off the sailing boat in Placencia and move on to the Rio Dulce in Guatemala as we had heard amazing things. We stayed in Livingston in an alcoholic hostel where they practically bully you into drinking. This is by no means a complaint. But I got a call while I was staying there - Dave, my boyfriend, had lost his job back in England and was coming out for the rest of the trip, but I got the day he was coming mixed up and he arrived a day earlier than I anticipated. As I practically fell over myself to get to him, I went up the Rio Dulce, not really paying much attention to the surroundings (a bit of a disappointment anyway) and awaited his arrival. When he arrived I couldn´t stop shaking for ages, funny what happiness can do.
We then made our way over to Honduras and the Bay Islands so people could do the insanely cheap PADI courses which are supplied there. I decided not to do the course, a very tough decision made harder by all my travelling buddies bar Dave doing it. But we got an amazing deal - we got free accomodation in a lovely cottage with kitchen, dining area and living room. It was nice to have a sort of base. But that is where we left Rosie and the rest, they may join later, but the pull of Utila is strong, and lots of people end up staying for a while.
I have now had a call to go to the beach, we are now in El Salvador, but the next leg of our journey was amusingly intense and requires more time than I have to give at the moment. I can see you holding on to your seats, but it´s ok, I´ll be back.

Long Overdue

Right, this is something I totally forgot to put in ages ago, but I feel it is one of the coolest things we have done so far, so I can´t miss it out. I´ll put the rest in a different posting.
On December 21st, 2011, one year exactly before the Mayan prophecy of an era of change, we went to Tikal, one of the most prominent Mayan sites. We had already visited Tikal the day before and were shown round by a brilliant guide. He had dropped in to the conversation that he was taking others the day after for an áfter hours showing.´Obviously, we were intrigued. We ended up agreeing a price and being told that he had a special surprise for us, and he would bring something along to make it a bit more fun. I know this all sounds fairly ominous, but ironically I have learned to trust out here. Well, perhaps trust my instincts, and no alarm bells rang at all.
We arrived the next day bearing some nibbles and a bottle of rum. There were 7 of us, all prepared to climb the temple to watch the sunset. First of all, no one is allowed to be in the park after sunset, second of all, no one is allowed to climb the temple. This is due to some stupid American falling down and killing herself. Same goes for Chitchen Itza - stupid American ruining it (no pun intended) for everyone. But if you pay enough, you can do just about anything. The surprise was going down a tunnel which (apparently) only 5 people a year enter. It was beautiful - the reds were still vibrant and the faces of the images were still clear. We had to crouch down with our torches to get through the tunnel among tarantulas, scorpion spiders and rats. Good fun!
We then began the ascent of the temple. Precarious to say the least as the stairs are falling away in most places, but I had a feeling that after a couple of rums at the top the decent would be more challenging, albeit less worrying with the warmth of rum in my stomach. We got to the top and the guide pulled out a large bud of cannabis to share with the group. So, when in Rome, and admittedly the scenery around me glittered with life, which was spectacular as it needed no enhancement to be enchanting. We say two toucans fly across the sunset, and watched the sun set over the vast jungle - not a power line in sight.
We made our way down in the dark and some of us on our bums and made our way toward a Mayan ceremony. At this point I became uncomfortable because the locals were obviously not happy about us being there. We were told, when approached too close, that the music was finished in a fairly brash tone. We walked away and the music started up again. Unfortunately we were not the only tourists there and not all were as sensitive to the feelings of the Mayans. It was an impressive ceremony to watch, even from afar. I have never seen the sky look like that. I now understand why the Mayans were so obsessed with the sky and the stars. I could not pull my eyes away from the clarity, the mind-boggling infinity, the black and sparkling sheet above me. Every detail was visible, every star. To this day I don´t think I have seen or will ever see anything that moved me as much as that did. I had permanent goosebumps. To top it off, the shadow of a fire danced upon a looming temple set against the backdrop of that sublime sky. An image forever etched on my brain.
So, I know that everyone that was there that night with our guide will be thinking the same thing at the same time next year - how lucky we were to experience Tikal at such a momentous time. I only wish everyone could see the sky like that at one point in their lives.