Ola de los dos Americanos en Honduras en el dia siete; Greetings from grimy San Pedro Sula, where we just arrived.

To finish off Christmas Day (yesterday).. there were eventually 6 of us at Las Cascadas, by last night. We met the couple that arrived before we did — Harvard grads about 35 years old; PhDs (she in neuroscience – studies memory loss PhD from Cambridge; he’s Canadian in finance – did his undergrad in sociology and PhD also at Cambridge in International Trade). They live in Toronto, where she’s on the faculty at the University of Toronto. The other couple who arrived just before dinner were Hondurans who live in San Pedro Sula and were (I think) a bit annoyed to hear all this English being spoken.

It began to pour (and rain in the jungle is loud and intense, although often it’s so dense that you don’t even feel the rain), just as we all piled into a van to head to this Christmas turkey dinner up the road. Wasn’t exactly what we imagined and it was a bit odd to have a real American meal in the jungles of Honduras, but I think Bruce really wanted a break from work, and we all accommodated. We met several of the ex-pats who are living and working in Ceiba—some are in the tourism industry (mostly guiding rafting trips and hikes, or managing small hotels) and some are working with NGOs, including an interesting young woman from Altoona, PA (very close to Penn State’s main campus at State College, where Mike and I once taught) who is running an after-school language program for 10-20 year olds, where photography is also on the curriculum, and where the goal is to encourage young people to think about sustainability for Honduras. They do a lot of training in eco sustainability, and some of the kids give guided tours through the jungle. (www.guaruma.org). Seemed like a really good organization.

We also met a bunch of expats from Saskatchewan, various parts of Canada, and the US.  Interesting folks who have either decided to live here in Central America for short periods, or for life. They all seem extremely happy.

After dinner, as the rain continued to descend, we went back to Cascadas for drinks, conversation, and Mike and Bruce played chess.

It poured all night long.. and for a while we thought we might have to stay another night at Las Cascadas, which would have been nice, but complicated because our room was already booked. So, after breakfast, we decided to brave the rain and head out down that 6 kilometer dirt (mud) road. As we loaded the car, the rain lessened, and while the drive was not exactly smooth… it was all doable. We headed into Ceiba to see the town, which might look good with sun (nothing ever looks good in the rain – except the rainforest, jungle)… but it seemed dingy. We grabbed a bite at the Expatriate Bar and Restaurant, where about 10 Americans and Canadians (who live in Ceiba) were watching the football game on the infamous flat screen TV.. and headed to San Pedro Sula – our next stop. (The Honduran couple at dinner were from San Pedro, so I asked — in Spanish, because their English was similar to my Spanish – about the best things to see in San Pedro, their response was quick and decisive: “NADA”… so we figured it would be fine to get to San Pedro by dinner.

We’re here now. It’s grimy and depressing, but then again, it’s raining! Fortunately while our little hotel is not in a very good neighborhood, it is immaculately clean (I think I’ll take clean over location)… And they have wifi!

So, we’re here — we’re off to dinner soon. We’ll take a taxi because finding things in the dark is really hard. In Honduras the street signs are infrequent, and then when there are signs – they are only printed on one side of the sign. So you never know what street you are actually driving until you are at an intersection. They really could use some signage advice in general. We drove for two hours before seeing the sign to San Pedro Sula and then it was just in time to make the turn onto that road.

We’re not expecting much in San Pedro. We hear there’s a good market that we’ll visit in the morning.. and maybe just rest up. We’re here for a second night and then we have a very long drive to Gracias.

I’ll let you know tomorrow what we find here in San Pedro Sula.

Fern

P.S.  I finally let Mike read all of these travel notes and he said I did not describe the boat trip to Miami correctly…According to him: We started out in a river and had to cross into the surf of the Caribbean and the connection between the river and the Caribbean surf was only about 20 feet wide and 2 feet deep. So they had to lift the motor out of the water, get out of the boat, and walk it through the shallows.. and then shove it into the oncoming surf, drop the motor, rev it up, and blast straight into the waves that were breaking in front of us… That’s when we started rocking and rolling across the crashing waves….
On the way back, the boat had to surf the waves until we hit the shallows of the river.. then they hop out of the boat and walk it into the river. OK.. That’s Mike’s two cents.

Feliz Navidad de Las Cascadas, circa de La Ceiba, Honduras
Dia Seis

First, a bit about getting yesterday’s and today’s email to you. There is absolutely no service within about six kilometers of the lodge. Actually, there is some kind of wifi in the dining area, but we have yet to be able to connect, and decided that 36 hours of no cell and no blackberry is actually a good test of our ability to make it for short periods without communication tools. Mmmmmmmmm…….

Anyway, to send the December 24th email which you should have gotten on Christmas Day.. I drove out of the lodge up a dirt road for about 6 kilometers.. where lo and behold—in the middle of nowhere—a connection popped up. I actually realized this morning when we drove around the area (more on that in a minute)… when my blackberry started buzzing.. So when we returned to the lodge, I transferred the daily report from yesterday to my Blackberry, and then drove up the hill and pushed “send” from the Blackberry… pretty clever.. ??

OK.. so we began Christmas morning (actually you’d never know it was Christmas here.. ) waking up pretty early to little howling monkeys that roam the trees that surround the lodge (Not to worry, we are well protected in our incredible cabin, totally screened and glazed appropriately)… and then some amazing bird sounds.. and of course the constant white noise of the waterfalls that surround the whole lodge. By the way, there are only four rooms in this place (I think I said previously that there were 9… I erred.)

Las Cascadas is owned by a very entrepreneurial American architect/developer who hails from Michigan and apparently spends a lot of time developing condos for wealthy foreigners in Roatan, one of the Bay Islands north of here.

Must say, he’s got great taste and is sensitive to the surroundings and sustainability (albeit a bit on the cushy side—for which I am grateful).. the lodge seems to be a hobby and a way to enable him to come and spend time in this amazing part of the world.. or maybe it’s a giant tax loophole, in that it is not possible to make any money with only four rooms.. at best 8-10 guests??

Right now there are only four of us.. We haven’t met the other two, but will meet them tonight when we all head up the road for a Christmas turkey with the expats who live in this region. The turkey was grown right here .. and I guess all of these foreigners decided to make Christmas dinner. We are invited, but need to chip in some money which seems quite fair. I think most of these people work as guides for rafting and other activities in the region, and some work with NGOs — one of which we visited briefly today.

After breakfast, we followed Bruce’s truck up the hill (Bruce is the on-site manager– an interesting guy, probably mid- to late-30s who hails from Montana, but has lived in many places, including Brooklyn! where he was living on a boat in a canal that is between Queens and Brooklyn… We Brooklyn folks are everywhere (well, he’s not really a Brooklynite, having lived there only 2 years)… He’s traveled a lot, lived in Roatan (Honduras) for a year or two.. before Brooklyn. He’s been the manager for about 9 months, and really loves and knows a lot about the area. He seems well connected well with the locals, using both consumables and adornments made locally (ok.. he also gets things from Guatemala, and in order to keep the place at such a high end, it’s obvious that many things come from elsewhere, but he tries to be as sustainable as possible).

Followed Bruce’s truck so he could stop and introduce us to numerous folks, and then he could take off to pick up the other couple staying here, who had gone rafting (guess they don’t have a car). This was a good idea, because we could then take our time at each of the places – en route down the hill. So Bruce took off as we got to the last introduction, and then we could linger and make our way slowly back, stopping at all the places he had connected us with.

The first stop was probably the most amazing.. and to be added to the once-in- a lifetime experiences list.

We went to meet Rosaria, who founded, with some other women, a women’s sewing collective. If I understood the story correctly (since it was all in Spanish)… Rosaria and her family worked hard and saved money and 16 years ago she realized that she and the other women sewed well and perhaps they could make money sewing various things like aprons and tablecloths. They saved for one sewing machine.. and then another, and now they have about 8 sewing machines (all rather old) and they have a small cooperative and sell their goods to a few shops that cater to fair trade. Somewhere along the way, an American woman from New Hampshire lived close by and helped them get more established (or so I think) and later a woman from Japan came also. As the cooperative got known, I think someone from the World Bank came and loaned some money for them to grow larger (a micro loan, perhaps?)…. maybe. You can take all of this background information with a grain of salt, since my conversation was all in Spanish, but I think I got it right.

Anyway, getting to Rosaria’s place is something else.. she is across the river from the road.. with no access by car or paths. Twenty-five years ago, the men in the village constructed a cable that holds a basket that traverses the river.. which is deep in a canyon… so the cable is about 15 or 20 stories above the river… You guessed it.. Mike and I crossed the river and back in the little rickety wooden basket that rides along the cable with little wheels that sit on the cable.. Rosaria’s son stands in (and sometimes is sort of hugging the basket while standing at its edge outside) the basket, We sat on little facing benches inside the basket. He maneuvered a pipe-like apparatus that provided the momentum for the basket to glide on the cable.

OK.. we made it across the Caribbean on that little boat with swells and being airborne several times, so we crossed our fingers and figured it would be ok.. After all, the children in this little village across the river do this several times a day.. to go to school, etc.

We spent time with Rosaria and got her story (as best we could with my rather limited Spanish)… and then got back into the basket (a “canasta” I believe) and went back to the other side of the river where our car was parked. The family is quite entrepreneurial. They are building another house next to their house, with four guest rooms that they hope will become a small bed and breakfast, with Spanish classes. ?? It will be ready in about 6 months and they will be sending me all the information so that I can recommend it to Americans.. I’ll be taking sign-ups soon! Contact me. You’ll have to take the basket back and forth—with luggage?

By the way, did I mention the other day that the children in the little Garufina Village (the one we went to via the boat ride) – Miami- bike 18 miles to get to school.. 36 miles a day.. even in the rain.. It takes them 90 minutes each way.. Makes going across the river in the canasta to get to school pretty tame.

All the equipment and materials to build the new house have to come across in the basket with the guy pulling on the pipe in the basket laden with the goods. Must make you think twice about any purchase. We clearly lead very easy lives.

From Rosaria’s we headed to a wood carver who had been in a bad car accident (he was a “pedestrian”) which totally smashed his leg… We bought a few wood serving dishes.. very simple.. no adornment.. quite nice.

Now that’s it for today; we’ll be heading to the turkey dinner soon.. back up that road.. Hopefully no basket travel in the dark!

Merry Merry… Feliz Navidad
Fern

This will be coming in several parts, because I don’t have any Internet service. Imagine — Both Mike and me… no cell connection, no blackberry connection, no iPhone, no computer… But I’m writing this note in parts and will attempt to send it through the Blackberry when we are within a service zone (if not, you will be getting it on December 26)… but in reality it is now about 7 PM on Christmas Eve. We just arrived in heaven! Although getting here was hell!

We are in the most luxurious jungle lodge imaginable. Nine cottages connected by stone paths on more than 90 acres. Our cottage is about 800 sq feet.. We have a little loft above our bedroom; a screened in patio with mango wood couch and chairs, a giant bathroom with stone tub, and a huge outdoor shower, surrounded by palms. From the patio we can see the waterfalls (there are several on the property).

Now for the earlier part of the day…

Before I go into the travails of the day, let me also exclaim joy in that this jungle lodge has hair dryers and all the best bath products. I’m in total heaven.. oh wireless would be nice but… ??

So, we began the day at the Cesar Marisco Hotel (the shrimp restaurant hotel) which I didn’t really like much and felt that everyone at the place was hustling non-stop. When we asked about getting to this Garufina village we had read about (interestingly named “Miami” — but as different as night and day).. they immediately wanted to set up a tour, so we deferred…

I decided (much to Mike’s disapproval) that we should either drive to Miami (all dirt roads and it rained very heavily yesterday).. or find a guy with a boat and pay him to take us to Miami (it’s on a peninsula across from Tela… about 10 miles by car and about 30 minutes in a motor boat out in the Caribbean Sea). We walked to the wharf and down to the sea where we saw some guys repairing boats. They said it would cost 2,000 lempira (about $100 round trip).. That seemed very expensive, so we walked away and decided to find another route.

But, then we thought about it, and while $100 seemed very expensive in Honduras, it wasn’t that much for us.. so we turned around and went for it. But the guy didn’t have the motor for his boat and it would take an hour to get it… Anyway, one guy called to another and then another and then Raul arrived, and he had a boat. Turned out Raul is the “hefe” so two young guys actually took us out to sea on Raul’s boat.

The boat trip out (just Mike and me, the “scout”, and the boat operator) on this approx 30′ fiberglass, well-used, open motorboat.. about 5′ at the widest dimension.. a bit scary to say the least. We were fully airborne at least once, partially airborne numerous times, and the rest of the 35-minute trip was nail-biting. On the trip out I was pretty sure I might live in Miami for life, to avoid taking the boat a second time.

So, Miami is a village of about 200 people — all Garufina — a people who trace their ancestry to Africa and Carib Indians. They live without any electricity, and no running water, in thatched huts that are about 150 sq ft… There’s a tiny school for the very young children (some of whom followed us everywhere). I gather they get occasional tourists — mostly at a special holiday — Semana Santa — at Easter time. The Garufina don’t believe in government; they just think evryone should do the right thing. How novel!

Life is pretty simple there.. although cell phones have made their appearance; not sure how they charge them.

We spent about two hours; and we waited about an hour for our food, cooked by Celine.. apparently some of the women just open their kitchens if people come and then charge for the meal. The boat guys told us Celine was the best. It took her about an hour to cook the meal, tipico food… and totally locavore.

We had fish (not sure what kind, but it had just been caught) that she smothered with very finely grated coconut and palm oil. Cooked on an open fire in a small pan. Fresh frijoles, and fresh plaintains, slightly sauteed.. Totally great; best meal so far. We sat on little benches under a canopy of palm fronds and looked out at the Caribbean. Maybe I can do this??

But, alas, we took the boat back, and the return trip (with the late afternoon breezes) made the outbound trip seem calm.. Took about 45 minutes since we were going against the currents; the swells were about 4′.. anyway, made it alive.

Then we set out to find Las Cascadas (where I am sitting now).. We drove to La Ceiba (about 90 minutes) and then per directions turned onto a road which turned into a dirt and rock fiasco about 1/2 km later.. We were sure we took a wrong turn.. turned around.. asked in a bar.. and we had been heading in the right direction.. so we continued (in the dark) along this rocky, muddy, dirt road…
and we eventually wound up here at Las Cascadas.. a true find!.. but no wireless… no TV.. no connection to the world.. but heaven.

Just had dinner.. fillet mignon, real vegetables, edible salad. Margaritas. Chilean wine, and even after-dinner drinks. We are totally totally happy.

More tomorrow on Christmas Day… never got to that midnight mass in Ceiba.. the thought of driving that road again, was just too much. Tomorrow we hike.. (moderate trail to the waterfalls) and I think we are going to check out a woman’s sewing coop we heard about.. Nothing too strenuous.. Need to be ready for another great meal.. By the way, Bruce – the manager here at Las Cascadas (and the do-it-all guy – bartender, chef, chief guide, etc. lived in Brooklyn for two years (on a boat in a canal) and in Roatan for a few years, and in several other places.. and is originally from Montana.. came here for this job in March..

Best — Fern

Hola —
Dos Americanos en Honduras – Dia Cuatro (Comayagua a Tela)

We made our way (actually quite easily) out of Comayagua, and except for missing one sign (the only sign on the road for the connection to Tela, so we needed to take an alternative route on much smaller roads which actually proved more interesting), made it to Tela quite easily (about 5 hours, including a stop for rather dull chicken — again — on the roadside, gassing up, and stopping to buy bananas from a kid on the road).

The countryside is pretty and very rural. Beginning about an hour south of Tela (which is on the north coast), the road is flanked by lush palm groves. Along the roadside are teeny stalls — each selling just one item: bananas (the very small ones) or coconuts or a fruit whose name I forgot that is red on the outside with thorns.

I’ve figured out that the economy is driven by four things:
1. Barbed wire (or concertina wire, as Mike calls it) which is everywhere — on buildings, fences, roof tops — although there seems to be less of it here in Tela;
2. Coca Cola which appears to have paid for the sign that greets you in every town (adorned with the logo in a size mostly larger than the town name) and at every roadside shack and painted on the sides of many roadside buildings;
3. Digicel, the cell phone company here, which seems to be taking its instructions from CocaCola and is whose logo is also appearing everywhere (though not as prolific as Coke); and
4. Flat screen televisions which are everywhere — in every hotel room, no matter how cheap, in every restaurant, no matter how fancy, in every bar, in every shop, in every shack!

The Coke phenomena is unfortunate and a result, I assume, of having poor water and thus being taken advantage of by the American-owned, iconic sweet drink company. Today, despite the availability of bottled and purified water, the Hondurans appear totally addicted to Coke (Pepsi and 7-Up are running a close race), and whenever we asked for bottled water, people thought it was strange. Indeed it’s pretty common to see young children holding and drinking from giant “family-size” bottles of Coke.

We arrived in Tela a few hours ago and despite rain, decided to take a walk through the town which is laid out in a simple grid. Tela has a definite Caribbean feel and the Garifuna people trace back to Carib Indians. The story is that the Spanish began looting the riches of South America in the 1600s sending ships up the Central American coast on the way back to Spain. French and English pirates used the Bay Islands (off the Tela coast) as the base for expeditions to attack the Spanish ships… At times the Brits controlled the islands and then they went back to Spain.. Anyway, in the late 18th Century, African slaves from the Cayman Islands and the descendants of Carib Indians were “dumped” in Roatan. These Garifuna people set up permanent settlements on the islands and the north coast of the mainland of Honduras.

The influence is apparent in the building styles (thatched roof wooden shacks on stilts), the music, and the food — which we hear is really good (grilled fish in garlic sauce and stews made with coconut milk and seafood stews that include sweet potatoes, yucca, and malanga (a root vegetable similar to yams).

Wherever you walk, kids hawk pan de coco (coconut bread); we haven’t tried it yet, but I’m sure by tomorrow we will have lost all self-control.

We are staying at Hotel Cesar Mariscos — yes, the “shrimp” hotel, which is really just a few rooms above the Cesar Mariscos Restaurant, where we will eat tonight. Cesar (if there is such a person) is quite an entrepreneur — with hotel, supposed best restaurant in town, bar that stays open late, guide tour operations, and somehow linked with the kids who sell the pan de coco. It’s pretty basic, although naturally we have a flat screen tv, and we do have air conditioning.. and a little balcony facing the beach. So what could possibly be wrong with that?

More tomorrow (when I’ll fill you in on the dinner) after we attempt to visit a Garifuna village called Miami and drive to Ceiba (our next spot – we think a fairly luxurious eco resort in the rain forest — for two days — complete with private yoga teachers). We’re also hoping to find a small church to see what midnight mass is like in Honduras (we’ve observed it in Mexico, Ecuador, Vietnam, Guatemala, and some other countries and it’s always interesting.)

Hasta Luego.
Fern

P.S. Mike is getting really good at driving here (admittedly defensively) and since he seems happy driving I’m content to be the passenger. Probably won’t last, but for now, it’s fine. Still a bit frightening to see huge trucks coming at you in your lane, but somehow it works. Didn’t see any accidents all day. Tomorrow we head to Ceiba, where there were 9 murders yesterday (apparently narco-gang related). The hotel operator in Ceiba got in touch and said not to worry.. I said, “no problem, we’re from the states — lots of murders every day.”

Hola – Dia Tres

Well, I lied last night when I said we had a big drive ahead of us for today — We never checked our basic itinerary until we were headed for bed last night. We were planning to stay two nights in Comayagua! So we extended and set out today to “really” explore this town!

We started at the Museo de Arcologica which is in a wonderful building with great courtyards, and the collection of Lenca artifacts is supposedly one of the best.. But it’s a rather tiny collection with some pretty amateurish recreations (compared to the incredible archaeological museums in Mexico and other parts of the world). We were the only ones there.

Then we decided to stroll well beyond the center to see what typical neighborhoods and life is all about.. And boy did we do that. A few blocks past the Parque Nacional, we literally ran into one of those unbelievably bustling — body to body commercial districts, where the decibel level was like dozens of jackhammers going nonstop at the same time.. of course this was mostly vendors barking and music blaring from every stall. It was great fun. Unfortunately the goods are very low quality and nothing handmade. This area covered about 8 square blocks. In the midst of all the people walking in the streets and the stalls which covered (blocked) the sidewalks pushing shoppers and pedestrians into the streets, cars, taxis, and even buses where trying to make their way. The area wasn’t unlike many others we’ve seen in developing countries, but I think the volume of it all was greater, as was the unexpectedness of it all.

After lunch, we decided to venture further out to see what the outlying areas were like, so we drove about 1/2 mile or maybe a mile beyond the center of Comayagua into barrios and colonias that circle the town. Pretty much all self help, with varying degrees of completion; no real infrastructure; rugged self-made roads; lots of stray dogs; etc.

If we had a four-wheel drive car we would have continued on, but with a little Hyundai we were limited.

Just finished dinner at the place that was closed last night. Located in a house that was the general’s palace beginning in 1790 when Comayagua was the capitol of Honduras.. and then was passed on to other leaders and eventually in 1999 became a restaurant (and unknown to us also a disco and karaoke bar). Walked back to our hotel — cool breezes and clear skies.

For the foodies reading these notes, don’t come to Honduras for the food.. The “tipico” is pretty overcooked beef or chicken (which is much better), plantains, rice, beans, a small slice of a local cheese, and salad (which we can’t eat for fear of real stomach issues) — and tortillas. Many restaurants don’t have liquor licenses and coke is the mainstay here.. sparkling water doesn’t exist.. so agua purificado is our drink of choice, if beer is not available. Not much in the dessert arena, but there are ice cream places — many flavors, but overly sweet. I’ve had chicken twice a day, most days; but alas, we can come back to the Bay Area for great food.

Tomorrow we really leave Comayagua and head north to Tela on the northern coast and then on to Ceiba. I think there is a small ex-pat community there (not certain), so it could be very different than what we’ve experienced thus far.

Take care — Assuming I’ll find a connection, you’ll hear from me tomorrow night. By the way, if you don’t really want to read this stuff, feel free to toss. Not insulted.

Fern

Dia Dos – Dia del cumpleanos de Michael (Miguel)

Greetings from Comayagua:

We woke up at Lago de Yojoa this morning… and after desayuno tipico (frijoles), we set out for Comayagua — about 60 miles south of where we had been staying. Driving was “interesting”… seems as if double and solid lines don’t mean much — even on curves and on hills.. Big trucks riding in oncoming lanes pass us rather aggressively… We chose to stay in the “slow” lane and trudge along, although occasionally we fought back and passed as well.. but a bit more cautiously than the Hondurans.

Along the edge of the lake there are dozens and dozens of little “fish shacks” where Lola or Ana or Maria or Delores cook the fish from the lake (each of these little stands is once again named for the woman who runs the place — which is just three or four stools at a counter).. The fish shacks butt up against one another in a line and all of the signs with the name of the place also advertise Coca Cola.

I forgot to mention (how could I possibly have forgotten) yesterday, that the urban areas are totally inundated with American fast food restaurants, which are all much larger than what we have in the states.. So, should we be longing for Wendy’s or Pizza Hut or Dunkin Donuts or even Taco Bell — no problem. As we go deeper into rural areas and away from cities, the proliferation of American culture immediately disappears.

Comayagua is a very sweet (though dusty) town — colonial in format — and recently went through (or is still going through) a renovation that is restoring much of its obvious early charm. We visited the cathedral – supposedly the best in Honduras, and the very pretty national palace.. we walked the town, and then set out to visit the restaurant that I hoped to take Mike to for his birthday tonight — Villa Real. We located it, but as luck would have it — it’s only open Thursdays through Saturdays.. so the birthday dinner is a bit of a pot shot. We’re headed to someplace called La Casita that is a bit out of the center, but recommended by the hotel guard.. Oh forgot to mention that every hotel and restaurant has an armed guard.. and in the plaza where we sat and watched Honduran daily life play out for about an hour — you’ve got the army with sub-machine guns; well-armed police somewhat distracted on their cell phones (taking personal calls I’m certain), and then armed guards for banks, etc. They all look pretty young and are quite friendly. I asked directions several times and they responded immediately, in spite of my rather rudimentary Spanish.

So, we are now back from the “birthday dinner.” La Casita was not exactly what I had expected.. but definitely a local joint. Food was pretty basic — meat, plantains, rice, and beans.. no alcohol. The place was packed with families and young couples. After dinner we went back to the town square Parque Nacional.. and searched for a place to have a drink. Had a beer and strolled back to our hotel – the Casa Grande which has a charming little courtyard; the place was pretty empty..

That’s it for Day Two. Tomorrow we have a really long drive to Tela — we backtrack north to the lake and then head northeast to the northern coast. By the way, for the weather watchers, evenings are totally delightful — probably about 63 and breezy; daytime it’s been in the high 70s so far.

Buenas Noches –
Fern

Hola —

We arrived a bit exhausted, following two very intense and travel-packed weeks (which ended about 52 weeks that were pretty busy, in and of themselves). Anyway, our flight (on TACA – The Central American Airline) left SFO a little after midnight (on schedule — although for the life of me I cannot possibly understand why they only have red-eyes to Central America). We had been upgraded to business class, although there wasn’t any food until morning. I think they hope everyone sleeps the whole way. The flight was fine and we arrived on time in Salvador around 8 a.m. this morning (Monday).. and easily changed planes to arrive in San Pedro Sula at about 10 am. Immigration and security was a piece of cake.

Then the fun began.

Without signs for the rental cars.. we sort of meandered for a while, and decided to exchange dollars to Lempiras (19 to the dollar, so we now have very fat wallets)… We saw a bank (no cambios at the airport)… and went to the end of the line. Everyone else was depositing money; we were the only ones trying to exchange dollars. Mike had Travelers Checks (which all the guidebooks advise) and of course this “bank” didn’t take them. I had cash, so I was fine.

Then we started the search for the auto rental… and were directed to a hallway behind some doors, where the image for the day was one of those red circles with the slash through it (Don’t) … telling us that no knives and no guns were allowed in the airport. That made me happy and secure (at least it didn’t have the hand grenade that we saw in Cambodia’s airport.)

The car rental woman was sweet.. she sat behind a desk in a little cubicle that was about the size of a half of a single bed. It took what seemed like an eternity, but finally the paperwork was complete … and then she took off to fetch the car (she’s a little one-woman operation)… We went to get some bottled water and then waited for her to appear with the car. Now we have a little Hyundai.. that looks like it’s been around the world and back again — dented, scratched, trim missing… but I think that’s good, because we’ll just fit in and not look so much like tourists!

Getting out of San Pedro Sula was tricky.. lots of traffic; many accidents; difficult to see signals; kids on horses very close to the road… but once we got out of the “urban zone”, driving was a lot easier and we headed without incident to Lago de Yojoa — a really large lake in the center of the country that supplies a lot of the water to the country. It’s at about 2,000 feet altitude. En route, we were famished and decided to stop at a little roadside “cafe”.. (there are little grocery stores – pulperias – about every half kilometer– sometimes much closer than that.. they are all called Pulperia + a woman’s name… like Pulperia Maria… or Pulperia Ana… Often right next door is a little four seater place to eat with — you guessed it — Ana or Maria doing the cooking. We safely ate chicken and avoided the salad.. we also passed on (but kept looking longingly at) the salsa.. since the Travel Doctor in Oakland said over and again, not to eat salsa on the roadside.. It was day one, so we thought we should be good.

Got to the Lake around 2:00 pm… and settled in.. We’re in a little posada with about 6 rooms. They first offered us the “suite” — not sure if there are any other guests.. which was large enough to house a family of about 8.. they are clearly very proud of the suite, but we opted for the upstairs room so we could have a “view” of the lake.. actually more like the wetlands of the lake.

Eventually we crashed for a 2 hour nap.. and then had dinner.. fish – naturally, and quite good.. but nothing really on the side.. salad again, which we declined.. and then French fries… But the fish was clearly fresh (probably fished a few minutes before dinner – tilapia).. and that’s it for me..

Buenas Noche.. Mas manana.
We may go out on our little “deck” to see if we can view the eclipse.
Fern

By the way, Honduran Spanish is very fast, so I feel like I’m at about the five-year-old child level of conversation.