7-15-2010
Why did we choose Honduras? Why not? Tell me what you know about Honduras. How many people do you know that have been there? I wanted adventure. I wanted unspoiled beauty. I didn’t just want a vacation I wanted to travel and to possibly find an answer or two.Landing in San Pedro Sula
We landed in San Pedro Sula around 11:45am. While waiting in the immigration line we met a young dark haired light skinned Allison. She had just returned from visiting Dallas. She has been living in La Ceiba with her Garifuna boyfriend whom she met while attending college as a linguist in Dallas. Her Spanish was amazingly superb in comparison to ours. After quite a wait in line we had a lengthy talk about everything from travels to pronunciation into developing a friendship. She proved a life saving asset as we exited the airport and were bombarded with our first Spanish. Unreasonably fast. Muy rapido. Taxi’s, buses, aaaah…taxi drivers all battling for your dollar while grabbing to ‘take’ your things. I was not prepared and no matter how much Rosetta Stone you study you are not prepared for the ‘real’ situation when it challenges you. It looks you square in the eye and you have no idea how to compute and process it. From the sights, the smells, the sounds, and the complete difference between your co existing worlds. Before this day I never knew this world existed. Yes you can read about it, you can talk about it, but you never really comprehend the fact that in your daily life that at the same very moment these people are doing just this. San Pedro Sula is a valley surrounded by hills or small mountains and a brown milky river. There is a 360 view of misty haze of ridges of land. I was in love, not with the city but with the land. As I said, I was not prepared but Allison effortlessly communicated-Spanish flowing from her like a liquid. We shared a taxi to the main bus terminal in central San Pedro Sula. The taxi was 100 Lempiras or $15 dollars, $5 each. When we arrived we exchanged numbers and promised to meet up when we reached La Ceiba. Farewell for now, hasta luego. As we turned away from her and that taxi I knew reality was at our heel yet again. The bus terminal also happened to be their mall.

The first bus
The language is spoken so quickly it is excruciating at first. In the time you are taking to process what was just said they are already onto something else. On the bus we found a spot in the back, comfortable with room for our bags and Matt’s guitar. The bus winded its way through the small city streets with a man whistling out the door and filling the bus with riders. At each stop children, mothers, fathers, men, women would file on and try to sell their goods of fresh cut fruit, breads, and refrescas. We had to kindly decline the fruit because you don’t know how clean it was, the person cutting it was, or where they even cut i. With each stop another traveler would join until the bus was filled. Matt & I separated between two men. My pack was between my legs, one of which was pinned between the rather big man and the seat as I hugged my camera and eased the thought from my head. I was too wrapped up into the land the lives outside of my window in which I could not remove my gaze. It was like a movie scene and although I knew I was there in that moment, it had not yet reached in and grabbed me and I couldn’t even tell you when I would fully grasp it.
Puerto Cortes
Arriving in Puetro Cortes proved to be a difficult feat with not really having a bus guy that wanted to help. He spoke fast even after asking slowly please and even after getting off the bus at some random strange stop we had no idea where we were or what to do next to get to Travesia where we planned to sleep. We just got off with everyone else and crossed our fingers. A taxi driver quickly found us, with me thinking ‘oh how could you not find the light skinned babbling Americans with huge backpacks looking around like a lost child in the mall.’ The taxi drivers name was Jose and he charged us 100 Lemps or $5 dollars to take us to Frontera del Caribe in Travesia. It was a little higher than my Lonely Planet had predicted but in the moment we were happy to pay it and know that we were on the right path. Before coming I had read my Lonely Planet book, highlighting and bookmarking. Looking back it is pretty hilarious at how I had developed such a plan for an ‘unplanned’ trip. I can also look back and say that all the highlighting and bookmarks were merely suggestions and rarely followed. In the taxi I was happy to just reach our first destination and put my feet down in a place for more than a moment. Having traveling by plane, bus, and taxi I needed a moment for my mind to compute and enjoy this trip. Jose didn’t speak much English but he got us there safely and gave us his number on a ripped piece of paper for the next day when we were leaving. We found he lived in Omoa, which was closer to Guatemala and he said they had a decent beach. He offered to take us there instead of Travesia stating there was not much there. We declined, as this was the one part of the trip I had planned and wanted very much. I knew there would not be too much in where we were going to stay but the Garifuna festival was to happen about 15 minutes north on the coast and for me to be in the country so close and not see it would be just plain foolish to my brain.Travesia
We arrived at Frontera del Caribe on a bumpy dirt road. It looked like a villa with a patio covered in thatch umbrellas under a coconut palm garden




Baja Mar
After about 10 minutes a taxi arrived we drove about 10-15 minutes very slowly down a very bumpy dirt road until we arrived in the village of Baja Mar. Here we were the only 3 white people, not knowing the best Spanish let alone a lick of Garifuna (a mixture of Carib, Spanish, and I believe a dash of french) in a tiny village without a plan or a clue. We walked….people were roaming the streets as reggae and punta rock music filled the night air, while the bright stars and crescent moon filled the night sky.


The kinship and great vibes from all of the people we met in Baja Mar was exhilarating and I can’t have been happier spending our first night in their company. Around 10:30 we haggled a ride back to our hotel from a local shop owner for 150 Lempiras, around $7.50 expensive but it was late and out of the way. We dragged our feet up the steps and fell fast asleep watching some small lightning flash over the Caribbean through our very large window. Ahhh.