Garifunda Land

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Marco, Hazel, and I left Trujillo in a clound of dust which is to say that we were following a bus on the rough gravel road that was constructed to bypass the bridge that was washed out. This way was better than the ferry from hell but not by much. We drove into the cloud for twenty kilometers before we knew for sure that we were following a bus. It could have been, a truck, a bus, the tasmanian devil, or a portal into the twilight zone for all we knew because we couldnt see more than 20 feet into the storm. We eventually broke into the clear and reached pavement at a crossroads where we parted company. They would proceed from here to Tacoa where they would begin the first leg of their journey into La Moskita. I continued onward toward La Ceiba hoping against hope that I could make it all the way to Lago Yajoa before I lost daylight. I made it to Tela where I had to stop for gas and decided there and then that I should go no further. I set course for a nearby Garifunda village called La Ensenada where I expected to find decent accomodation. It was an odd place made even stranger by the presence of dipshit gringo who asked if he could camp. The somewhat bewildered hotel owner directed me to camp in the yard of his home which was just big enough to accodate the Scion and my tent. It was a very secure campsite and a pretty good one too except for the unintended intrusion on the domain of the family dog who marked his territory twice in the way that dogs do. Does anybody happen to know how to get pee stains out of a tent?

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