Second verse same as the first.

From everything I had read and heard about La Ceiba, I wasn’t looking forward to heading. Crime. Dirt. Drugs. And all sorts of general ickiness. But it’s a necessary stop to get to Utila so we had to do it. On a positive note, it was supposed to be the start of La Ceiba’s carnival, a week-long celebration and street party and that sounded like fun. So we set off in search of a good time.

A nice air conditioned taxi deposited us at the same gas station we had arrived at and 10 minutes later (and 15 minutes early) the bus pulled up. It was another non-airconditioned coach but with the windows open it was fine. Of course, we had to close the windows when it began to pour (photo above). But without the sun beating down it was still bearable inside. It was a short ride to La Ceiba where we were once again let off beside the highway. I guess they spent all their time and money on the giant bus station in San Pedro Sula and couldn’t afford any others in the rest of the country. And it required us to take a taxi which I might add was cheaper than the ones in Tela for a longer ride. We got out at the first cheap hotel on my list and they had plenty of room and two nights cost less than one night in Tela. Sure there was no air conditioning but we had a powerful fan, tv and private bathroom. Well at least we’re back on budget and that alone makes me like La Ceiba more than Tela. Yay we may be able to afford those scuba lessons after all.

Now it was time to find that street party. Our hotel was just a couple of blocks away from the central park. But since we’re in the English part of Honduras there was no cathedral or other municipal buildings. We found those around the corner. There were decorated for carnival but there didn’t appear to be any street party happening today. There wasn’t much of a beach so we looked at doing some nature tours or staying out of town but as the heat beat down the idea of being outside all day seemed less and less appealing. So we went for ice cream instead.

We headed over the bridge to the more backpacker part of town in search of a place to eat with lots of cooked vegetables. There was supposed to be a Chinese food place there but it was long gone (stupid 5 year old lonely planet). And our options looked limited. Most places were bars or looked really expensive which was weird because the area looked dodgy and not very inviting. After walkin as far on the strip as we dared, we ducked into one of the pricier places. I stuck with baldeas which are a Honduran bean and cheese quesadillas served with pickled veg – tasty. While Adrian went for the fajita and chips which interestingly enough came with a visit to the salad bar. Although, I find a salad bar in an open air restaurant in Central American in a town that has a certain stench, a little suspect. The best I could do was advise him to avoid the lettuce.

While we ate we noticed the bars across the street were suddenly very packed and very noisy not with music but with a football game. In fact every place with a tv was turned to the game including security guard in closed stores. Places without tvs had radios blaring out the play by play action. It was obviously an important match but it also meant that there was no evidence of the carnival that night. Actually, besides the bars everything was shut up tight. So we went back to our room where we watched the game. It was the Honduran championship - Olympia versus Real España. We didn’t know what cities they were from or even where the game was being played but when Olympia scored we could hear all of La Ceiba cheering. But there was to be no satisfaction tonight as the game ended in a 1-1 draw, a lot like our experience so far with La Ceiba.

The trouble with Tela.

Why were we in Tela? Good question. Well the beach for one. Supposedly Tela had a nice beach which Utila (despite being a Caribbean island) didn’t. And also because it was one last opportunity to catch some of the Garifuna culture that we’d so far missed in every other city since Belize. After our exposure to a sleepy and kinda scary town last night, we weren’t hopeful. But a town that looks crap at night can be completely different once the sun is out.

So when the street noise woke us up (no double glazing on the windows here) we were happy. It meant life and people and action. But just in case I sent out some emails to places in La Ceiba and to a few diving schools in Utila in preparation for a quick escape.. Then we headed out to see if Tela was indeed better in the daylight.

Well there were definitely more people – in fact it was packed but it still felt like slim pickings. We headed to the one recommended place in the guide book for breakfast and hoped it was still open. It was and it was where we found the Aussie couple from the cabbie shakedown the night before. They had found a room and for half the price of ours but admitted it was definitely not worth it. And they were not feeling the love for Tela either. Good thing they were only staying a couple of nights before they had to go and catch their flight to Chile where they were heading for the the ski season. We wished them good luck and then headed out to find some of that stuff we were in Tela to see.

We followed the map to the Garifuna museum. Or where the Garifuna museum was supposed to be. That’s right. For the third time in the third city in the third country, the Garifuna museum wasn’t just closed – it wasn’t there. It appears that the Garifuna culture has died out on the Caribbean coast or at least any interest in it. We now believe that Garifuna translates into “invisible” in English. To make our walk out here worthwhile, we took some photos of the river which was chocked full of greenery as opposed to water.

Okay so next on our list of things to do was the beach. Now that should still be there, unless global warming had buried it underwater. It was already 36 degrees and about 80% humidity so we could use a dip in the ocean. But first we needed a blast of air conditioning in the hotel room. We really weren’t used to this heat. Of course by the time we left the hotel, the clouds had come out. And the weather went from super sunny to super cloudy.

But at least the beach was still there (photo above). Although it doubles as the boat launch for the town so it’s not the cleanest looking place. Despite this there was hardly anyone out. And in about 30 minutes we figured out why. It started to rain. Actually it started to pour. I guess the rainy season had finally begun. Adrian decided to stay out in the ocean while I sought shelter under a palm tree with all our clothes. That worked for a few minutes and then the rain began to pour down the trees. It took me another 20 minutes to convince Adrian to get out of the water and only when I let him know his book was getting soaked. The rain let up a bit and we headed back to the hotel. Adrian decided to walk, or rather wade, through the streets barefoot, figuring that they’d be mostly clean thanks to the downpour. I was a little less convinced and kept an eye out for glass and other unpleasantness.

Tela was not particularly pretty. The people weren’t particularly friendly. And the costs were way too high. Luckily there were some emails waiting for us when we got back. One scuba school sent a really helpful and friendly reply to all my questions about getting equipment to fit me as well as to calm my fears about diving. So I decided to go with them. I couldn’t remember if they were the one recommended by my scuba diving virtual friend Cindi (of bubbles and bugs – Hi Cindi) recommended but they were the first to respond and were very enthusiastic. With all good news comes bad news, the only response I received for a hotel in La Ceiba was for $50/night. Sure the air conditioning would be nice but our budget only allowed for so many nights of it. But La Ceiba is only 90 minutes away from Tela so we would have plenty of time to get there and find a cheaper room on foot. So I armed myself with a list of cheap options and marked their location on our crappy Lonely Planet Map. Tomorrow we’d leave Tela and hopefully all our troubles behind.

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.