Rafting Parrots Etc Part II

Wow where to continue.. where did I leave off? not at the exciting part that's for sure. I think it was all set up for the big rafting adventure.

which was big. so i believe after feasting on pb and tortillas (lekker) and changing in a dorm bathroom that I was OH SO GLAD not to be staying in (dead cockroach on the floor... do not like them much) into bathingsuit and clothes to be drenched, we got picked up by a 4x4. and a badass one at that. seriously there was a hard-core middle east take down the desert looking one, but we got the littler one, which was still big and tough looking by even normal SUV standards. so pete, jeff, and I pile in, and we take off up out of the city and literally straight off the beaten path onto a dirt road winding up through the jungle to the top of a mountain.

it's jungly out there and lush feeling. we're surrounded by a blur of greenery and the warmth of wet heavy jungle air. and even though it's not remotely akin to the big metropolis of joburg i'll soon be living in, for some reason riding around in a jeep makes me feel like i have to get to south africa asap. about 20 minutes a rocky roads we stop, in the middle of the jungle at a set of stone stairs, descending down to what must be the river. we unload and head on down and immediately are at the jungle river (or something like that) ho(s)tel which indeed is right on the river. and it's amazing. exactly what i'd been missing- huge mountains, rivers, rocks that only glaciers could have created , and 2 parrots just lounging around in a structure that reminded me of being in a swiss family robinson tree house. and it hits me that although i like the beach, and i liked utila, and i like scuba diving, i love the mountains and trees and the feeling of being small in the midst of it all. I think I like the comfort in the enclosure of the mountains- the feeling that you really could just escape and disappear if you wanted.

amidst feeling this content and sudden calm, we're served up some hot coffee as we await our private tour out onto the rapids. I take a few sips, but am not really in need thanks to the red bull already running through my veins. so I head over to the pool table over looking the river where some guys are playing and 2 very brightly colored macaws are perched. Sensing some potentially great photos, I bust out the camera and start looking for a good action shot of parrot number uno. of course while I'm doing this, parrot #2 mistakes my ankle for food and tries to eat me. not pleasant but no bloodshed. more cautious shots later, I do have some good photos and reconvene with the boys who are still surprisingly chugging down some cafe con goat leche.

apparently it's time to get started and we meet our guide, Darwin, a short honduran guy with dread locks as long as he is, holding an oar with such confidence that he looks like some jungle tribal chief holding his staff proudly who's about to give these lucky foreigners a glimpse of his village. This image is also strengthened by the fact that he is not wearing shoes. Potentially an oversight given that he has a life vest and helmet on (and the oar), but as we'll find out, he's just one of those shoe-less types. Which will become impressive once I describe the types of terrain we were covering.

....okay luckily pete has written a ton on the subject. which is great because I have just picked this up once again on the 23rd of June and my memory is already fading. So, gracias a Pete, here is what happened...:

"by 9 we were heading up a dirt road in an old landcruiser to a jungle lodge nestled on the side of the raging waters of the rio cangrejal. we got caffeinated, loaded up the landcruiser with our life vests, helmets, and paddles, put the raft on the roof, and drove a few kilometers further up the dirt track where our main guide (there were two), an amiable, dredlocked, perpetually barefoot honduran nature boy named darwin, led us down a trail to the put-in spot. before beginning the rafting, however, we were taken on an amazing walking/swimming/ bouldering/jumping-off-high-shit tour up-river. we began by swimming across the rapids to the other side, from where we hiked up-stream a bit (still wearing our shoes and all our safety gear), climbed up some huge glacial boulders towering 25 feet or so above the water's surface, and then were told to jump off into the frothy rapids below, which we all promtly did. we let the rapids take us, feet first, for about 200 meters or so before climbing ashore. we participated in some more exercises in trust with our young guides - which maria caught a good bit of on her camera - including getting swept gently down stream until we were, one by one (several minutes apart), sucked completely under a set of fast-moving rapids for about 5 or 6 seconds, coming out on the other side no worse for the wear after smacking our helmets on the submerged rocks a few times. as soon as our heads popped up, the guide screamed ¨ROPE!¨, threw a rope into the current, and dragged us to shore, skimming us across the water at high speed like some sort of huge, bewildered, waterbugs. then began the rafting, which was great fun and lasted for i think around 6 km, some sections more insane than others. by the time we got to the end - a very shallow, tranquil bit of river - the clouds had burst and it had begun to pour, creating a beautiful effect on the river's otherwise calm surface. a nice way to end the journey (one of the most fun things i've done since coming down here in january). and it was only 1:00pm.

we got back to la ceiba, had a celebretory beer, got out of our wet clothes, and got on a leaky, flooded chicken bus headed to tela, where we began this leg of the journey 6 days earlier. for the first time in a week i consulted a guide book, belonging to an english girl we met on bus. where to stay, where to stay? well, her 4-year-old lonely planet recommended one place that sounded reasonble, but upon arriving we realised that the place seemed to have fallen into decline in recent years. upon examining one of the rooms, jeff turned to me and said, ¨it looks pretty rough, man.¨ i couldn't argue with him, but i was in no mood to go traipsing about town looking for better options and neither was the british girl. so we stayed and began to brush the fire ants off the bedspreads and figure out how to turn on the bathroom light (which turned out to be non-existant), while jeff and maria went to look for something more........like a room. and i don't blame them. it was their last night and we were on the shores of the fucking caribbean for christ's sake. live it up, man. because while i do not mind a night or two (or 47) here and there with no running water and bucket flush toilets, or sleeping in close quaters with total strangers and insects on sinking, damp matresses, i do enjoy the finer things in life from time to time. so when maria came back a few minutes later telling me that i could feel free to come over and use their pool and hot tub whenever i liked, who was i to say no? it pays to have friends in high places, no? in their case, on the fourth floor, with a hammock-enhanced balcony overlooking the flat-as-glass sea stretching out to the horizon......"

thanks pete. you just saved me about 30 minutes that i don't have!

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