Road to Roatan

The alarm didn't go off, what time is it? 6:20, I have to be accross town in 25 minutes. Good thing it is a small town. No time for a shower. Packing took ten minutes. Down three streets over 5 streets down a street around a corner? Where is this terminal? No stores are open, nobody to ask. There is a bus. “Esta bus hasta Ceiba?” Si. No assigned seats, this is no luxury bus, but it is not a chicken bus either. Half the occupants are tourist American and Europeans a large collection of blonde girls. I checked my backpack and boarded the bus with my daypack, fanny pack and camera bag. I leaned over onto my pack and went to sleep, hoping I wouldn't be bothered by someone wanting to take the seat next to me. Four hours later the conductor asked for my ticket and shortly thereafter we pulled into a big bus station “San Pedro Sula”? Everybody got off the bus. The bags were transferred to another bus. I boarded and the driver wanted my ticket. I told him I had given it to the driver on the other bus, which by now had departed. They said I had to take care of something in the office. What a pain in the ass. I asked the American girl sitting behind me to watch my pack and headed into the office. “Yo comprar billete desde Copan hasta Ceiba, conductor of the bus con mi billete.” This is most certainly complete gibberish, but the guy got on the cell phone for twenty seconds and nodded to the driver of the bus as I boarded.

Another couple of hours we stopped again, this time a break for twenty minutes to eat at a roadside cafe. Everybody got off, ate got back on the bus and then we were told that we had to take a different bus. Half an hour later we boarded a smaller bus. Five woman were standing in the aisles, The back row designed for four occupants held six. The woman standing were unbelievably calm about the whole thing. I sure as hell didn't want to stand on a lurching bus for the next five hours. Finally, somehow everybody got a seat. We arrived in Ceiba an hour late but with plenty of time to catch my ferry. L100 for a taxi ride to the terminal? I was dubious but it did turn out to be a twenty minute ride. I suspect it should have been half that but, why sweat a couple of bucks? At the ferry terminal a curbside agent took my pack. I bought a first class ticket for the 90 minute ride and passing through security got my multtool confiscated but was given a claim ticket for it. I now sit in a large waiting area lusting over fine things that are too young for me to be lusting over.

19:00 The boat pulled into the dock the first class passengers had to wait for the standard passengers to file out from the fore cabin before we could descend the stairs. We arrive at the back of the queue for luggage. Carts were wheeled in and bags scattered in random locations behind a curved counter that was over one hundred feet long. Passengers pointed to their bags when they came into and the luggage attendants handed them over the counter after comparing the claim ticket to the bag label. If we were all allowed to just claim our bags and show the claim ticket as were were filing out, as occurs at LaGuardia there would be 100 times as many people to collect luggage. Three people waited in line at the office to collect items that had been seized at the security bottle mostly plastic bottles of beverages. A young American woman pushed to the side and stuck her arm through the bars of the office, bypassing the line. I moved to the head of the line stuck my arm father through than hers, grabbed her ticket and said to the others in line, I apologize on behalf of the people of the United States, we are not all ugly Americans. I handed her the ticket and told her to get to the end of the line.

Finding a cab driver at terminals is never a problem, usually fighting your way through them is the issue. We went to the car, I put my backpack in the trunk and starting walking around the car. Another taxi had double parked and blocked us in. My cab driver entered the double parked cab, looked around for keys and then ran off to get the offending driver. Fifteen minutes later he returned with the driver. Three people slowly tried to pack all of there luggage in the car. I just stood there watching the spectacle; I had no appointments. We drove for twenty to thirty minutes past not a lot that I could see in the dark. The driver was very anxious to show me my hotel. He told me I could get a better rate if I stayed multiple days and insisted that I committed for a longer period. Of course, he is getting a cut and just wants a higher bill. The first hotel was a nasty, grotty dump. The linoleum was peeling off the counter the couch was threadbare; I asked the rate for comparison 700 Limpares was outrageous for a dump like this. We found another place that was more to my liking, the XXXX had two big beds, a refrigerator, microwave, air conditioner and hot water. I washed my day's wear in the bathroom sink, 12 hours on a hot bus and I didn't want to wad it into my laundry bag. Two faucet handles in the shower but no hot water and minimal pressure but at least I defunkified. The clothes were hung before the air conditioner to dry. I tried to check my email but there was no network available. Crazy, I can't think of last time I was at a hotel without free WIFI; this room was 870 Limpares, XXX. You never know what currency things will be in. Often rates are published in US dollars at parks and for transportation with not very favorable exchange rates. As seems common in this the money was thrown near disdainfully into a large drawer, haphazardly and change making took about half a minute Bills A one Limpare note is slightly more than an American (or Canadian or Australian) nickel.

Travel wears me out, this was 15 hours of transit time. Tonight I'm just going to watch TV, not often I have a TV with cable.

860 for room
380 for cap

13 for bus
100 for taxi
70 for chicken and salad

18.50