Everyone I know has an idea of what Honduras would be like, but no one that I've ever met has been there or talked about it. They gave numerous comparisons to Costa Rica, or to Columbia or any other destination that seems to be more popular with tourism. None of these quite fit what Honduras was. The one characteristic that it does share with the above mentioned was the local pride. Every Latin America country has an instilled a piece of her soul in each of her residents, this showed more so in Honduras than any other country I have visited.
Before we flew into San Pedro Sula we flew into San Salvador, El Salvador. When the plane started it's decent into El Salvador all we could see were mountains and valleys covered in the most surreal green, the green a child uses when he only received the neon Crayola's and draws a Forrest. The plane descends a little more and the green becomes more vivid, the rivers become wider, the fields are lush and the vegetation looks at any moment it could reclaim the houses and villages that surround it. When the movie scenery becomes almost too much the plane heads out towards the ocean and you see jungle give way to crystal blue water, then it veers left and arc's back towards the jungle to make it's final decent into an airport carved out of the jungle, barely keeping it at bay. Getting off the flight my companion and I were still in shock of how rich the beauty of the jungle was compared to the flat nondescript faded yellow airport in El Salvador. Our flight was delayed an hour giving us two hours to hang out in the airport. After some much needed pupusas we drank a couple local beers and waited by the gate for the next leg of our journey.
Expecting to see the same mystical beauty coming from San Pedro Sula we were let down. It was dim out and the airport was away from the city, we could small houses in the distance, lights from the city but a gorgeous jungle was not in sight. Landing and going though customs in another airport built for function and utility, built like so many houses in this part of the world out of cement and cinder blocks with a stucco exterior. After making it though customs we were hit with every bit of the 90% humidity my iPad had declared it would. We were also well aware of the security with police everywhere. San Pedro Sula is currently battling Ciudad, Juarez in Mexico for the lead of most dangerous cities in the world and even the Peace Corps has left Honduras due to it's danger. With that in mind I'm extremely grateful I had pre-arranged for our transportation to La Ceiba. Our driver was in plain Toyota mini-van and made our exit as quickly as possible. Once on the road to La Ceiba he maintained 120 kph, never dropping below 80 kph.
As my travel partner slept I took in the nighttime scenery. Every building had flood lights, metal security doors, minimum six foot high walls, and barbed wire or razor wire. We drove past the University for Technology and you would have thought it was a converted prison. Twelve foot barbed wire fences with extending razor wire, flood lights making the property appear as if it was noon, and guards armed with semi-automatic machine guns. Houses made of rotted wood the size of my sofa, cinder block homes no bigger than a Honda Civic, road side stands, all of these had security flood lights and bars on the window. Our driver would weave in and out of traffic with ninja like precision slowing only when military or police check points demanded it. A three hour journey was done in 2hrs and 28min and I was glad as we approached armed security guards in our gated resort around midnight.
The first full day we relaxed in the morning with a massage, the wear was shit. It had been raining since 5:34 in the morning. I know the exact time because prior to that every species of bird in the southern hemisphere was outside out door throwing the wildest cocktail party. The rain finally shut them up and that is when I was able to get back to sleep. Later that afternoon we took a taxi into town as my companion wanted to see the local markets to purchase souvenirs for people back in the states. I don't go to flea markets here and since my friends have enough shot glasses and fake Micheal Korrs purses I went for moral support and to check out the architectural styles. We told the cabbie to meet us back in two hours, which it turned out was about an hour and 30 minutes more than we needed. He dropped us off in the center of town and we walked past numerous stands 4 blocks long and 2 blocks wide that housed almost the exact same thing as the previous stand. Growing ever frustrated by their attempts to sell me Puma, Affliction, and Abercrombie shirts I was ready to jet. That along with the little kids brush past me "accidentally" while attempting to feel if I had a wallet in my back pocket finally got the better of me and we walked to the rendezvous point early for a cold beer. She had picked out the gifts she needed and our cab driver arrived 30 minutes early. The market was similar to Trader's Village or Canton with one exception. About every third or fourth girl would be a solid Dallas 8; tons of 6's and 7's all over the market too selling purses, beans, produce, etc- That blew me away.
Day two was almost the highlight of the trip, too bad it started with those asshole birds gawking at two freaking thirty and not letting up. My companion was well aware of my wake the dead level snoring and brought ear plugs so she wasn't affected by the birds. As repayment for her foresight I made her take the bed directly under the vent while I took the one on the other side of the room, leaving the AC on 50 and the overhead fan on. The AC control was above the closet door and her 5'0 stature didn't allow her to adjust it to a sane temperature.
Anything that involves speed and danger are things that I like. They usually end up costing me a broken bone, a torn ligament or something similar but this time I went away unscathed. We had deceived to go zip lining (if that's a real word) through the jungle. It was a gorgeous day to spend flying across a rain forest on steel cables a kilometer long with no helmet and using work gloves as our "brake". Since there were only two of us from our resort they paired us up with a group who were staying at an Eco Lodge not to far away. This group was about the same age as us but they all lived in the Cayman's and were on contracts as accountants there; 3 from South Africa, 2 from the UK, 1 from Brazil, and a Kira Knightly looking chick from Poland. We all had a great time going through the zip lines and cracking up at each other's expressions when we'd pass each other in flight. One zip line was a full kilometer long and a few were almost that. Flying through the trees of the jungle, looking 50' down to the canopy floor and then seeing the Caribbean Ocean on your right is wonderful. I'm so glad I live at a time where that is possible and allowed. Since they didn't bother giving us helmets I strapped my GoPro on my head and filmed the whole thing. 18 canopy stations later we were led to a natural occurring hot spring where they would give us a massage and then a mud bath. During the zip lines I was flirting with Polish Kira Knightly but I didn't know she was from Poland, I thought she said UK. Normally this wouldn't matter; things were progressing and going well. When we all changed and hoped into the hot springs she was suddenly absent and would go out of her way to stay away from me. I couldn't figure it out until later I learned she was from Poland and the tattoo of the German Flag on my arm gave her PTSD. I sure did dig those black and pink hi-top Nike dunks she was rocking with shorts... Oh well.
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