Honduras

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Why are we waiting????

We didn’t have the best start to Honduras. At the border we gave all our documentation to a rude, little woman who just disappeared and then helped a group that arrived after us. We must have been waiting for her to return for about forty minutes when she came back to us. She told us she needed forty dollars, and there were signs up confirming this and again she disappeared. She didn’t turn up for a while and we started wondering if everything had been completed though she still had the original title document for the van. Off we went looking around the different offices and into the immigration huts for her. There was no sign of her but we found out from one of the immigration officers that we would have to wait two hours. We learned that she had gone off to the bank to pay the fees but now couldn’t until they re-opened for the afternoon. We were both irritated, especially as there wouldn’t have been the delay if she served us when she should of. She had some notes visibly hanging out of her cleavage and we weren’t sure if these were ‘propinas’ (tips) that had helped expedite the other applicants.

After waiting in the van for two hours she re-appeared banging on our bonnet saying it was nearly complete. With a couple of formalities left we head back to the immigration huts, where they thoroughly checked all our documentation and were finally good to go. The whole process took well over three hours and we were relieved to be on our way. For about ten metres. Then there was another checkpoint where they checked exactly the same paperwork and made a real meal of it. After they were satisfied we were on our way again but could see a police checkpoint about fifty metres ahead this time. Once again, they checked exactly the same paperwork, made a meal of it again and finally we were actually on our way. We had head from a Honduran trucker at the border that it was common to give a ‘tip’ to the police when they stop you to avoid being asked pointless questions and we’re not sure if they were expecting this at the different checkpoints. Either way we weren’t going to give anything unless we absolutely had to.

Lago de Yojoa

After our rapid succession of checkpoints we made our way over to Santa Rosa de Copan as our guide book said it was quite a picturesque town. When we arrived we couldn’t see what the fuss was about, it just seemed ugly, spread out and uninspiring. We headed into the town centre for a meal and the centre was slightly more attractive but we still couldn’t see the allure. The next day we headed towards Lago de Yojoa. We looked at the map and to go by the main roads was about twice the distance as the other route where a significant part was marked as a dirt track. We often find that it can be great going down the less-travelled roads sometimes as people aren’t used to seeing tourists and it is great to see how people really live in the rural villages. Well we chose the dirt track and after a while we started to think it might be a mistake. The road was incredibly rough and at times we would be going at walking speed. Also, there were no directions at some junctions where we had no clue what direction to go other than to ask people providing there was actually someone around at all. We were starting to get a headache being bounced around in the van when we stopped and asked another guy for directions to La Esperanza. He confirmed we were heading the right way and said it was about thirty minutes away. He then asked if he could jump in for a lift. Much to Jess’ dismay Rich let him and struggled to hold a conversation in Spanish with the guy until we finally arrived in La Esperanza. The guy said his thanks and got out and from there on the road to Lago de Yojoa was paved, with huge potholes, but we didn’t care at all.

We arrived at Agua Azul by Lago de Yojoa and asked if we could camp up there for the evening. The guy on the desk said we could camp up but he would have to check with the owner on the price when he returned from the lake. We were tired and went in for a much needed meal when afterwards we found out they wanted $12 to camp which is actually pretty expensive for effectively parking. We asked how much a room was and when they told us it was $25 we treated ourselves to two nights there.

The Caribbean North

From Lago de Yojoa we headed over to a small relaxed fishing village called Omoa where we had a great meal by the sea. The next day we met up with a Canadian called Randy who we travelled with for the next few days. We had heard of a Canadian owned RV park near Tela called Pelican’s Beat that was meant to be very difficult to find and we had some detailed directions we had found on the web. They didn’t help. Driving round a small village near Tela asking locals for directions, nearly none of which had a clue what we were talking about. Trying to find the place we drove past a game of women’s football a few times, had an encounter with a really drunk guy, and got invited to camp in someone’s front garden until we eventually found the place. It was shut with no signs of any activity. We considered trying to drive in the property and camp up but we couldn’t even see an entrance for vehicles. After considering our options which included camping on the beach we headed back down the road 30 km to a place we had noticed called ‘Finca El Eden’ where they let us camp up.

Finca El Eden

Finca El Eden is a great place owned by a German called Bertie who has pretty much travelled the entire world. He told us of the natural swimming pools on his property which was quite a hike up into the forest. Rich and Randy went off in search of the pools while Jess hung around and got some peace. From Finca El Paraiso we continued east along the northern coast and spent the next night at a hotel called Helen’s Place in Sambo Creek. The French Canadian owner kindly let us park up for nothing that night so we repaid the favour by frequenting their restaurant.

Back Tracking

The next day we parted ways with Randy who was heading back to meet his wife and we carried on east towards the town of Trujillo. After a while on the road and near the town of Trujillo there were some roadwork’s and it was clear that we were not getting past them. We spoke to the workmen who only spoke Spanish and they gave us some directions to get round. We didn’t fully understand the instructions and it would involve a lot of dirt roads to Trujillo and also for the rest of our route in Honduras if we chose that way. After five minutes reviewing our options we decided to backtrack so we could pretty much get out of Honduras as soon as possible. This involved pretty much re-tracing our route all the way back to Lago de Yojoa and back-tracking is something we really don’t like doing. We set off and broke our journey up with another stay at Finca El Eden and another solid day drive before we stayed in a motel in Choluteca which wasn't far from the border.

The next day we set off for the border and at our last Honduran police checkpoint, just metres before the border, we were pulled over once again. This time we knew the officer was after something. He asked to see our paper work and then wanted to see inside the van. He then asked us a question that we hadn’t been asked yet but had been waiting for it. He wanted to see our ‘triangulos’ and ‘extintor’. Having spoken to our Honduran lorry driver at the last border we knew that you didn’t need these but that the police would use it as an excuse to bribe you. Rich said he had them (we did actually have the warning triangle) and went round the back of the van and started slowly unpacking all the van, intentionally not finding anything, in the hope the officer would give up. We had heard that once they realise you are not in a hurry they will give up. And it worked. The officer just patted Rich on the back saying it wasn’t necessary and then tried to sell the services of his friend to help with the paperwork to get through the border which we politely declined.

As with most other countries we didn’t cross the border on the main highway and were leaving at the town of Guasaule. When we arrived at Honduran immigration we were swamped by young men offering their services to get all the paperwork completed. We get this to some degree at all the border crossing but here there were so many and they were being a real nuisance. We did our best to ignore them and after some effort got all our exit paperwork and began the short drive to the Nicaraguan checkpoint when we realised we had a puncture.

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