Honduras (At Last)

I'll admit it - I was impatient.  The van seemed to be developing problem after problem, each one extending our stay in Antigua.  We'd lost the apartment and were staying in a fine and dog-friendly but budget little hostel whose walls were so thin we were forced to hear our creepy American neighbor's racy conversations with a caller that context led us to believe was our neighbor's much younger Guatemalan lover.  At one point, I warned the neighbor (simply by speaking in a normal voice and knowing he could hear me) that the walls weren't as thick as he thought.  At another point, when he asked his lover if she wanted to hear about a particular fantasy he had, I was forced to shout, "No! No one wants to hear it!"  

But it wasn't simply that I wanted to get away from our amorous neighbor.  I also badly wanted to spend some time in Honduras and Nicaragua, and Chuck and I had both started to feel like time was running out.  (Those of you working full-time jobs are now free to laugh and/or cry at our near-panic about only having 2.5 months of freedom remaining.)

Anyway, the rattlevan had been acting ancient and sad and our mechanic situation had been pretty grim, so when we finally did hit the road again, it felt like bliss.  The old van hummed along with its fancy new parts -- mostly hummed, anyway -- and we were moving.  Through Guatemala City and into some desert highlands, we stopped for the night in the bustling city of Chiquimula, camped in the secured parking lot of another well-worn hotel.  It rained that night, and mangoes bounced loudly onto our roof.

The next morning, we hit the border early: Honduras!

El Florido is definitely the nicest and most relaxed border we've crossed.  Still, certain problems with car titles and driver's licenses caused some delays, and it turned out that Honduras shares with Belize the dubious distinction of being one of very few Central American countries to actually care about Lena's entry.  After some wait, the border vet examined Lena and filled out the paperwork for her nationalization, laughing as he declared her a hondureña.

Note the unfortunate trailer that apparently didn't get across.

Our first stop, right near the Guatemala-Honduras border, was to see the ruins at Copán.  We breezed through the pretty colonial town of Copán Ruinas -- temporarily colonial town-ed out after Antigua, perhaps -- and headed instead for a sort of eco-lodge in the hills above the Copán valley.  

The folks at the lodge let us park for free and it was idyllic.

Yoga platform overlooking the ruins across a valley?  Yes, please.

The ruins at Copán are extraordinary in a totally different way than the others we've seen.  At Copán, it's all about the art.  In fact, the museum, which houses some of the best sculptures, was almost as much fun as the archaeological site.

As an added bonus, macaws fly around the ruins as one step in their re-introduction to the wild.  Like cartoons come to life, especially in flight.

Handsome

We originally had a vague plan of heading next to Gracias to do some hiking in the National Park Celaque, a cloud forest that's supposed to be amazing.  But then we crunched some numbers (dates) and realized that our plan of spending a month in the U.S. backpacking before returning to work would likely satisfy our cravings for wilderness and also leave us only about a month to finish up in Central America and Mexico.  So we nixed the backpacking plan and headed instead for the Bay Islands. 

Yesterday, we put in a long day of driving from Copán to La Ceiba, from the mountains to the Caribbean.  And this morning we hopped a ferry to Utila.

Don't tell Lena she was considered cargo.

Those of you who know me well can guess the winner in
the age-old battle of The Ocean vs. Dramamine.

Friends, this was not a fun boat ride for me. The boat was fully enclosed and the waters were enormously choppy for an hour and a half.  I had popped a dramamine like a good traveler, to no avail.  

Totally worth it, though, already.  Utila is adorable, Chuck is out snorkling even as I write this (with plans for a dive tomorrow), and I'm sitting on a porch overlooking the greenest, bluest sea I can remember.  

Next up, maybe, a Post About My Parents' Visit If They Ever Send Me Their Pictures, or Something By Chuck about Knockers.