A birthday greeting and a tourist shakedown.

Happy Birthday Mom. With the dodgy internet this is the best I can do (and in reality it’s a month late, oops. It’s the thought that counts). But today we spent the day on the road. Yes another travel day – my favourite.

We packed up and headed out of the Iguana Azul hostel – not the warmest of owners but definitely one of the best places we’ve stayed. Clean and comfy and awesome water pressure. But after the warmth of everyone in Guatemala, Hondurans seem less friendly and gruff. And so far the country reminds a lot of Belize – stuff is more expensive and the only things to see appear to be on or in the Caribbean or the ruins on the border of Guatemala. Hopefully the buses would be better.

After breakfast (where Adrian managed to convince the waitress to give him some proper baked beans), it was off to catch the bus. The information board at the hostel said there was a direct bus to San Pedro at 1pm. Arriving at the bus pick up area, the locals told us there wasn’t one until 2:30. I didn’t know what to believe – there was no reason for them to lie. And I didn’t see the bus or anyone else waiting. They told us the chicken bus would take us to La Entrada where we could catch another bus to San Pedro Sula. On the map, La Entrada was only about 65km away but the book also mentioned that it would take 2hrs to get there – even at the slowest speed that seemed like a long time. So we could either bake in the sun until the direct bus or see the scenery on the chicken bus.

We chose to sit on the bus. And for the first hour the bus ride was hot but scenic. But after 1.5 hours of passing through a lot of towns, I was confused. I didn’t remember there being any dots on the road between Copan Ruinas and La Entrada. So I opened that guidebook to look at the map only to discover that we were taking a very scenic route. But rather than stress (after all there was nothing we could do) we just zoned out until we were dropped by the side of the highway just outside La Entrada – actually it could have been in La Entrada sometimes it’s hard to tell with these towns. Before we could get our bearings we were immediately ushered on to another chicken bus albeit a bigger one that was a bit more comfy. We were seated at the back of the bus right below the speakers. As the driver started up the movies and music at full volume, I dug out some earplugs from our bag so we wouldn’t lose our hearing during the 2 hour ride.

In San Pedro, we pulled into a huge brand new bus terminal that rivaled some of the ones we’d seen in Mexico City. And we could still catch the last bus to Tela which was leaving in 45 minutes. We chilled in the air conditioned waiting room (erm, sorry about the pun) and hoped that our third bus of the day would be the charm. And indeed it was. Although not air conditioned, the seats were super comfy which saved our butts from becoming completely numb. And after 7 hours we were finally in Tela, dumped at a gas station just outside of town along with an Aussie couple.

We chatted and discovered we were all going to to try for a room at the Mango Hostel so we decided to split a cab. The driver quoted us 20 Lempiras but of course when we arrived at the hostel he claims it was 20 Lempiras each. We argue that he didn’t say that and refuse to pay. He countered that he was going to call the cops. We called his bluff and told him to call the cops. Yes we waited for the cops over 3 dollars but the 2 minute cab ride was going to cost us more than our 2 hour comfy bus ride. As we waited, the clerks came out to see what was going on. We could tell by their expressions that we were being overcharged but they were unable to help. They also couldn't help us with a room. The cops arrived 30 minutes later (once the driver actually called them rather than just pretended to) but they sided with the taxi driver and we had to pay up. Bless the Aussie girl - she tried to instruct the the taxi driver and police to require that it is always specified the rate is per person to avoid future confusion.

With the cops gone, it was no time to find a room. The Aussie’s went in one direction and we went in another. The second place on our list was closed for renos so we moved on to third. The town was dark and deserted which was not a good sign and it didn't make us feel any better when the police stopped us to give us directions to the hotel. They then followed us to make sure that we got there safely. The price was almost $40 Canadian. But it was air conditioned, has wifi and tv, and its clean. After our long trip, we were sick of searching and grudgingly took it.

Now it was time to find dinner. Everything was still deserted and without our police escort we popped into the first open place we could find. We haven’t eaten in almost 12 hours and scarf down our pizza in record time as the restaurant closed around us. On our way back to our hotel, a local offered us a hammock to sleep in for $20/night which makes us feel better about how much we paid for our air conditioned comfort. Between the taxi drivers, the three buses and the high cost of hotels, we weren’t enjoying our time in Northern Honduras. But I hope you enjoyed your birthday Mom.

The end of the ruin.

Okay so far we’d been to Teotihuacan, Mitla, Palenque, Tulum, Chichen Itza, and Tikal. That was a lot of ruins. But we still had one left to visit – so bear with me please. Today it was the ruins of Copan located just outside of town beside the highway. Thanks to an overcast morning the walk was bearable and even kinda pretty. The Honduran government had wisely built a sidewalk set 10 feet back from the highway to prevent tourists from becoming a cross on the side of the road. But it didn’t make the occasional transport truck hurtling down the road any less frightening.

The sun decided to come out in full force as soon as we got to the entrance to the ruins. Oh great and I’d forgotten my sun hat. (Actually, I hadn’t forgotten it so much as lost it somewhere.) But what made me cranky was the entry fee. They had sneakily divided it up into three parts. The ruins were $15 (yup dollars). The museum where they put all the good stuff was another $7 and the tunnels to see the preserved temple was another $15. So if you wanted to see everything that would be a whopping $37 – US! We cheaped out and only paid for the access to the ruins and were determined to milk our time there for every penny.  

The first stop is the nature trail and Adrian insists we should check it out. I quickly discover it should just be called the trail trail because the only nature we saw was a moth and hundreds of mosquitoes that immediately began feasting on me. There was no wildlife although there were many signs advising us on how to identify the creatures if we found them. The trail went on for an hour and ended just outside the gate to the ruins where a flock of macaws was nesting in a tree. So a tip if you want to see nature, skip the nature trail and follow the road instead.

Inside the park, we stopped to guzzle some water, buy some more and then guzzle that too. It was going to be a slow day. But it did help us get refreshed to check out what Copan is famous for. It didn’t have the great temple structures or immense area or even a special history. Nope the site was compact and the buildings were small. But they were covered in relief sculptures and hieroglyphics, that researchers were still trying to translate. And that was something new to make the visit worthwhile.

We walked slowly through the grounds waiting for clouds to block out the sun to try to make it easier. And many of the major points of interest were covered by a tarp to keep the sun from damaging them, including the hieroglyphic staircase. It was comprised of 63 steps all covered in some sort of message about the ruler who ordered it built. Unfortuanately the elements had worn away some of the symbols and time had loosened and scrambled many of the other stones. So the message hasn’t been completely deciphered. I hope after all that effort it doesn’t just say “drink more ovaltine” (gold star to the first person to identify that reference).

But this was our 8^th ruin visited and I have to say I had less enthusiasm this time. Probably because the high price meant we had to pass on some of the more interesting things. The museum contained a reproduction of the buried colourful temple and the tunnels let you see the real thing. Or perhaps it was the heat. It occurred to me that every temple was stinking hot and perhaps the archeologists should start considering that the real reason they were all abandoned hundreds of years ago was heat stroke.

On our way back to town, we realized that one of the farms we had passed was actually a cock fighting ring. Yup right there on the highway across from the police check point. So I guess it’s legal here. That might explain  why they were so loud – I’d be screaming to be let out if I was being held until I had to fight to my death.

In town, we stopped for pupusas. Lunch for $3 my favourite kind . They were served with beetroot and other pickled veg that I had to beg Adrian to try. I knew he like it but he put up a fight and then finally gave in to try it but not without proclaiming “I’ll try it but I won’t like it.” Of course he did like it. “It tastes just like beetroot” (duh). He liked it even more when I told him how much it cost and helped himself to more.

We were originally going to head out to a macaw farm where there was a pond to swim in. But once at the hostel we were too hot and tired. We’d seen lots of macaws at the ruins. The farm was going to cost us another $25+ so instead we opted for a free shower at the hostel with it’s awesome water pressure. It was just as refreshing but perhaps not as fun. And it gave us time to make plans for our departure the next day. We were headed to the Caribbean coast of Honduras which looked like it was going to be disappointing and relatively pricey. We’d finished with ruins and only 3 days in I was starting to feel like we should finish with Honduras.  

Copin’ with Copan

Heat and lots of it. That’s what we woke up to. Well, that and cats in heat, loud roosters and cranky horses. But the heat was the major thing and something we’d have to get used to. I quick look at my handy thermometer-compass told me it was already 34 degrees and it was only 9am. It had been awhile since we’d been hot and even longer since we’d been woken up by farm animals. Yet, we didn’t mind because it meant we were in a new place.

Before we could go out exploring it was time to cope with our pile of laundry. There was an authentic laundry sink behind the hostle and armed with our bar of laundry soap and two bags of laundry I started scrubbing much to the amusement of one of the staff members. I noticed that every time I rubbed the soap directly on to the clothes she started giggling and shaking her head. Perhaps she had never seen such poor scrubbing technique before. But she didn’t stop when I tried a few different ways. So I told myself that she was obviously thinking “Laundry soap apply directly to the laundry” like that stupid “head on apply directly to the forehead” ad. Eventually, the heat became too much so I taught Adrian my bad technique and got let her laugh at him for a while.

With the laundry hanging on the line, we set out to explore the little town. It was still hilly in the daylight. But it was a lot easier to find things, including the cheap and tasty comedor the night watchman had told us about the night before. It was right next door to the expensive place, teehee oops. And after our splurge meal we really needed cheap and tasty. Funny that the Honduran breakfast was the same as the Guatemalan breakfast. And the Guatemalan breakfast was the same as the Belizean breakfast which was the same as the Mexican breakfast. Adrian assured me that it was most definitely not the same as an English breakfast. Oh joy.

Our first stop after brunch was the central park. Yup Honduran towns also have those. The more we travel the more things stay the same. Pretty square? Check. Church? Check. City hall? Check. Touts? Nope. Wow, that was surprising considering that because of the ruins Copan is a stop for not just backpackers but tourists with money. Not that I’m complaining just… surprised. There was also a completely empty museum of anthropology so we went to check it out and escape from the sun. It was small but had plenty of good stuff from the ruins, included some great examples of ancient Mayan dental work (which I'm pretty sure I saw being advertised by dentists the other day in Xela). It was a good primer for our visit out to the ruins tomorrow tomorrow. Adrian wanted to see the children’s museum but when we went looking for it in the market we discovered it had moved to the top of the biggest hill. So we trudged up the steep hill, often moving faster than the tuktuks trying to drive up. And we were rewarded with… a closed sign and locked gate. Fortunately, the view from the top of the hill was pretty spectacular.

And that was it for the sights in Copan. Rather than search out some of the stuff just outside of the town, we called it a day and headed back to the hostel. I chatted with Robin a girl who had arrived just arrived yesterday as well. She was in Copan to do her research for her master’s in epidemiology and today was her first day out in the field. But like us, she was having trouble finding what she was looking for. She was here to count chagas bugs but on her first day out she found none because they live in the walls of houses. Oops. (I kinda wanted to ask if that wasn’t the sort of thing you find out before you start your research but didn’t. No need to rub it in.). It looked like her next three months were going to be very long. I wonder how she’ll cope with Copan. 

Raise your hand if you're Sure. And if you're not, don't get on our shuttle.

I don´t like to take tourist shuttles. They´re usually more expensive, are known in places like Thailand as scam buses, and often try to get you to stay at overpriced but underperforming hostels. But in Guatemala, it seemed like they were the method most gringos used to get around. So after 2 months on the road we were finally going to take not one but two. The first leg would be two hours to Antigua and the second leg all the way to Copan in Honduras, another 6 hours away. At the tour company, we met our shuttlemates for the first leg: two other Canadians, two Germans and one very smelly Spanish speaking guy, no really he had the strongest BO ever, made worse when he took his jacket off and stretched out his arms to air out his pits. Anyone who would get on an enclosed vehicle without showering or using deodorant must really hate his fellow humans. Thank goodness it was only two hours to Antigua, not just because the mini van was cramped but also so we could sit as far away from him as possible.

In Antigua, the two German girls headed off to Rio Dulce in their very own empty mini van. But we had no such luxury. Our mini van was soon to be filled with the two Canadians from Panajachel, three Swedes, an Aussie, a guy from Quebec and yes, the smelly man. Sigh. Yet another reason to not take the shuttle.

Soon we had another reason. We had all been told that we were going directly to the Honduran border, however, when loading up the minivan the rep from the agency began loading us up by destination. Forcing all of us going to Copan to sit at the back. This did not please the other Canadian girl, until I pointed out that the smelly man was in the front row, albeit by himself. So we were going to be making some stops but where?

In an hour we were in the middle of Guatemala City and for the next hour we were driving through it seeing such sites as the red light district (no I did not take a picture), police shakedowns, and finally the airport where the smelly man was deposited – yay! No smell. More room. But boo! because it was obvious that this little side trip had added another 1 or two to our voyage and rather than taking 6 hours to get to Copan it was going to take more than 7.

Back on the highway and we drove and drove and drove. The sun was beating down on the non-air conditioned coach making us all lethargic. At least this van was more comfortable than the first. But when were we going to take a break? We were all getting a little hungry and thirsty. Unfortunately, the driver didn´t speak English and I spoke the most Spanish out of everyone on the bus (kind of scary). And just as I was about to put my week of lessons to use, we stopped in Rio Hondo. The kids (the 7 other travellers in the van) figured we only had 30 minutes left and celebrated with cold beers. I looked at the map and figured it was probably another 2 hours to Copan so Adrian and I responsibly grabbed some snacks and water. Sure enough it was 1.5 hours later that we arrived at the border and now it was pitch black. But not dark enough that the money changers couldn´t find us as we stood in line to get our passports stamped. Country number 4 here we come.

We were then piled back into the van only to be driven to the next door (?) for our swine flue clearance. We were all confused why we weren´t just told to walk the 10 metres. Oh well, it was quick and we were all getting quite fast at loading and unloading the van. The last leg of the journey was a half hour drive on very curvy roads to the tiny town of Copan where we were dropped off at the tour office.

It was 8:30 at night and there was no traffic in the streets. Without a cab, we started walking the steep hills of Copan towards our hostel. It was much hotter here than we´d been used to for the last few weeks in the highlands of Guatemala and soon the sweat was pouring off us. Of course the hostel where our room awaited was on the edge of this (luckily) small town but as soon as we got to the top of the hill, a tuktuk appeared. We grabbed it but not before asking the price. Diez Lempiras. I repeated the price in Spanish for clarification and then we were off. As soon as we got to the hostel he told me it was 10 Lempiras each. But I wouldn´t back down and he left swearing at me under his breath. Finally, the Spanish lessons pay off. I know, we were arguing over 50 cents but it´s the principle I tell you.

The hostel was very quiet. There was no office or desk instead the night watchman unlocked the door and let me us in. Despite the huge machete he was carrying he was quite nice, unlike the owner who later appeared. He showed us the room, gave us the key and then left. Good thing the place was nice or I would have thought about staying elsewhere.

The nice watchman gave us some directions on where to find some good cheap food. But in the dark in a new town Adrian and I couldn´t find it and ended up in the first place we saw called Twisted Tanya´s. It was very expensive ($60 for both of us) but it was a delicious three course meal. And we were entertained by the crazy 22 year old from Cambridge running the place. She was posh but quite sarky so she and Adrian entertained me by taking the piss out of each other. But after 10 hours on the road and another two in the humidity of Copan, I pretty sure we had become the smelly ones now and it was time to leave.