Isla Meaguera

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What is all that noise? Who keeps trying to break in??





I finally bother to open my eyes to see Chris heading out the door. As it turns out, Chris had food poisoning and



had been to that decrepid bathroom next door to our room about 10 times throughout the night for the expulsion



of the poison. At first it didn't look like Chris would be moving, but by about 9am he felt well enough to give the



boat ride to Isla Meanguera...err Isla Meagre a try.





So we head down to the dock with our bags at about 9:15, and check around for anyone who can tell us which



boat we need to catch to the island. At 10:05, someone comes to tell us to walk out to the farthest boat which



is the boat for Meanguera. The guidebooks mention that the boat leaves between 10 and 10:30, so off to the



boat we go. Trudging through the garbage filled slimy mud of low tide for about 200 metres before walking another



50 or so in knee deep water we arrive at the boat. It is empty except for Chris, myself, some cargo and the few



crew members. It's now 10:15 and I'm looking to get moving. At 11:30 were waiting on some guy getting canoed



out to the boat which has already cast off into deeper water, so much for the 10 to 10:30 departure.





The boat ride is about an hour and half, somewhat scenic, with a couple stops along the way at various small



villages to drop off a passenger or two. At the first stop, I was looking at the village thinking I better not be stuck



here for the night.





As it was, Isla Meanguera was a more sizeable town. The book stated two hotels and two restaurants, it



mentioned nothing about the sewage water draining down the hill on the way to the hotel, the muddy ocean



water, or the garbage piled high on shore. Good thing the boat leaves at 5am, cause I want out. After walking



around town, some of which was half descent, including the immaculate soccer field at the end of the road that



had been donated with money set aside for upkeep by some rich dude. Money that would have been much better



spent on a garbage man and some proper drainage pipes. It was off back to our hotel for some food. Apparently



they don't serve food, so it was off to the building they pointed to a couple hundred metres away. Nope, no food



there either, they point back to our hotel. This sucks, no restaurant on the island. One of the old men takes us



for a walk into the hills to his house where his wife prepares a meal for us without the use of a fridge. I'm forced



to ask for a second cup of Nescafe instant coffee in a country known for its great organic coffee just so I can



swallow the spoonfulls of food whole without chewing while making sure not to breath through my nose to avoid



puking. In the end my plate has been cleaned of "food", we head out back down the hill to pass the time, but not



before she gives me one of the beautiful red peppers from on her bush which burns my mouth for the next 10



minutes as we stroll down the hill.





I end up meeting what has to be one of the only english speakers on the Island, Homie, which helps pass the



time. He's a former gang informant for the FBI and CIA who lived in the States for about 12 years before he was



deported for lying to the FBI.





5am and we were on the boat. 5:15am we pushed off into deep water. 5:30am and we were heading back for the



end of the peer to pick up a few people who missed the 5:15 departure. PEOPLE, the boat leaves every morning



at 5am!!! He'd been blowing the conk shell since 4am, surely you can be on time, EVERYDAY SAME TIME, 5AM!!!

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