I’ve started a blog. Not because I’m bored or nerdy (debatable), but because after keeping a travel blog a few people have said I should try out writing. Since I’m not traveling to any exotic places these days here are the travels of my thoughts.***
*** I assume no responsibility for injuries caused from reading my blog. This includes injury from snorting beverages up your nose, or biting your tongue too hard to keep from laughing at work. Should injury occur, please blame your employer (for not keeping you busy enough, thus allowing free internet browsing time) or your cat (because cats can be scapegoats for almost anything except adultery: "Please understand, honey: the cat made me do it.") And if you don't have an employer OR a cat email me and I'll hook you up with either. But not both. Or a cat AS an employer. Why are you reading this? No one reads the fine print. Continue on, there are more interesting things to read.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Paradise Lost (From Travel Blog)
Our last night on Roatan, we ate fish tacos made of a Wahoo that had been caught on my fishing trip a few days before. I brought the fish, in steaks, to the place where we’d been having the tacos at the whole time we’d been here and asked if they would cook it for us because we had no kitchen. The cook, a woman, took one look in the bag and her eyes bulged. She spoke Spanish and I didn’t understand her. I thought she was saying she could not cook them and was angry that I would ask such a favor, but Sean translated and said that yes, she would cook them up no problem, and could she please have one of the Wahoo steaks herself? I had at least 2 pounds of fish, far more than Robyn, Danielle and I could ever eat, and I said of course, just make three orders of fish tacos, please, and you can have the rest. Nothing has ever tasted so good- it was like halibut, only a million times better.
Thursday morning we packed our bags early, aiming to catch the 2pm ferry. We dawdled around and ate smoothies, and then went to pay for our room around 1:00. Rosalie, the owner, rang up our bill and said it would be $100 cheaper if we paid by cash. Not having enough cash on us, we ran down to the ATM to withdraw money and ran back (about 10 minutes each way in the midday sun). It was 1:35 when we pulled out of the driveway and we had no idea how far it was to the ferry, but Rosalie assured us that we’d make it.
One thing I haven’t mentioned is the driving (or lack of it) we’ve experienced on the island. Here are the rules I established from observing the road:
1) Honking means:
Thursday morning we packed our bags early, aiming to catch the 2pm ferry. We dawdled around and ate smoothies, and then went to pay for our room around 1:00. Rosalie, the owner, rang up our bill and said it would be $100 cheaper if we paid by cash. Not having enough cash on us, we ran down to the ATM to withdraw money and ran back (about 10 minutes each way in the midday sun). It was 1:35 when we pulled out of the driveway and we had no idea how far it was to the ferry, but Rosalie assured us that we’d make it.
One thing I haven’t mentioned is the driving (or lack of it) we’ve experienced on the island. Here are the rules I established from observing the road:
1) Honking means:
- Move it
- Go ahead
- I like your bum
- Hey Bob, how’s it going
- Need a ride?
- I’m going to hit you.
The drivers honk constantly. If they’re not honking, you, as a passenger, should be concerned as this may indicate that they may have passed out or died. (I'm joking of course.)
2) Cars have the right of way and if you’re a pedestrian, watch out.
3)If you’re a passenger in a car, close your eyes and pray. (Even if you’re not religious, you will get the urge to be.)
In town, we weaved in and out of other cars, vespas and tourists. It also helps to have free hands as a passenger, the better to shield your eyes with. The cab was stuck behind a scooter that was going fairly slow, so we tailgated for quite a ways. As we went around a particularly sharp corner, I heard the unmistakably sound of a flat tire. With three girls and their backpacks in the car, it wasn’t very reassuring, but the driver didn’t seem so concerned and we continued on. At 1:50, with no ferry in sight, I asked the driver “Esta lejos?” (is it far?) and he shook his head, no, not far. We arrived at the terminal at 1:58 and I truly thought we’d make it until we encountered speed bumps the size and shape of bowling balls. In slow motion, it took us a minute just to cross those speed bumps and the flat tire did not help matters (at one point I thought we’d get stuck). Anyway, long story short we missed the ferry. “I’m so sorry, friends”, our cab driver tried to console us. Needless to say we were in foul moods and did not want to make the trip back to the West End. Collectively we decided to head up to the unexplored French Harbour on the east side of the island, and the cabbie agreed to drive us. His English wasn’t very good, and our Spanish was worse. We asked him to take us to one hotel and he said, no, three girls should not stay there. So we tried another and he said maybe he should just take us back to Coxen Hole (where the ferries left from) because there are nicer places there. Finally we asked how about the french harbour yacht club, and he agreed to take us to the inn there. The West End, where we’d been staying, caters to independent and budget travelers, while other places we’d been on the island are very resort-like and touristy. The thing that we loved about the West End is that we had the chance to interact with locals and got to see what ‘island life’ was like as travelers rather than tourists.
French Harbour sounds lovely and exotic, but in reality, it showed us a different side of the island. This side of Roatan offered a wider perspective of life in Honduras, one of shanty houses with corrugated tin roofs and people cooking out of metal barrels in their yards. People walk the streets with machetes (well they do that in the West End too, that’s how I opened one of the coconuts on the beach “Excuse me, sir, may I please use your machete for a moment?”) but our sense of security had certainly diminished. Traveling, however, is going off the beaten track. Our room at the Yacht Club was nice enough but overpriced. However, like I said, our cabbie wouldn’t let us stay at any of the other places we suggested. In our room, I opened a drawer and found a cockroach, and there didn’t seem to be anyone else staying there, which we all thought was slightly spooky. At one point I left the room alone to join Robyn and Danielle for dinner, and when I closed the door a seven inch long green lizard fell onto my shoulder. Of course, I screamed like only a girl could scream, alone in a strange place and being accosted by reptiles. That night, as we did not want to walk around town in the dark, I wrote a long blog entry. In the midst of writing the power went out and it was all lost, hence the hiatus in entries. Apparently in French Harbour the power goes out every night around 9 or 10, but the hotel has it’s own generator and we soon had electricity. I just didn’t have the motivation to re-write the blog (and it was mostly about bad-driving anyway) and went to bed early. Next morning I was up at the crack of 4. Our cabbie came back at 6 and we were at the ferry terminal to catch the 7:00 boat (because like my parents always tell me, it’s better to be one hour early than one minute late). The boat was called the ‘Galaxy Wave’, and boy we were ever excited to go on such a fast-sounding boat! In our excitement, we all fell asleep as soon as we stepped on board and missed whatever exciting things happened along the way. It was hot when we reached the mainland, a little city called La Ceiba, which was bustling with morning activity around the outdoor markets. The driving was even worse in the city, but we made it (alive) to the bus station in time to catch the 10am bus. It was a little unnerving that before we stepped onto the bus that they took mandatory photos and record all of our passport information, despite the fact that the journey would not cross any international borders. We also had assigned seats (I was in seat 1 at the front of the bus) and I assume that these procedures were taken in the very likely event of a horrific accident when we, the passengers, would be smooshed beyond recognition and the only way of identifying us would be from our seating arrangements. My runaway imagination pictured Canadian papers with the headline “Canadian Woman Smooshed Beyond Recognition in Honduras Bus Crash” with my photo beneath (which was very sunburnt, tired, and sweaty. Yuck). It was a long, hot bus ride but at least I had a window seat. Uneventful, except that every time the driver honked (and if you’ve been paying attention to my descriptions of driving, then you’d know it was A LOT) I could feel the intense-bus horn vibrate beneath my feet so I didn’t get much sleeping done. We passed industrial parks and farmland, beautiful rivers and fields, watermelon and banana stands, and many little shanty towns.
Arriving in San Pedro Sula around 1pm, we decided on a budget hotel suggested in the Lonely Planet guide called Hotel Terraza. It was a decent place with a restaurant downstairs, but we were anachronisms within the hotel, which secreted the essence of the 70’s in its cigarette emissions, olive green and orange décor, moustaches and music. We stepped into the elevator, which was barely large enough to hold the three of us, and I felt the flimsy floor shift beneath the weight of me and my huge backpack. I have been in outhouses larger than that elevator (and smelled better, too). We took the stairs from then on. Because it was still early in the afternoon we agreed to walk around downtown and maybe do some shopping. We’d been told that the city is not safe, and to try and blend in and not look so touristy, which is hard if you don’t have a moustache and a bottle of hair gel (to look like many of the locals). Walking downtown we nearly caused accidents (people stopping the middle of intersections to stare at us and say Hola) and I nearly had a couple of accidents myself, one when I nearly walked into an open sewer hole, 5 feet deep and unmarked, and the second time when I got distracted by a street vendor selling ‘baleadas’ (tortillas with beans and cheese) and I definitely walked straight into a 3 inch cable holding up a telephone pole. Lesson: Kimie needs to pay more attention when she’s walking as there are dangers even when she’s not crossing the street. Especially when people are walking down the streets with rifles and AK-47s.
We returned home to grab a camera and Robyn and I ventured out to visit a beautiful downtown Cathedral with some impressive architecture, which offered respite from the hot sun and chaos of the city streets. At the hotel again, we ate dinner and tried to relax in our room. It was hard to do so with the intense heat and non-stop sounds of gunshots from the streets (there was no screaming. I hoped it was from a Police station we’d passed earlier, but we’ll never be sure. There was constant shooting for 20 minutes around 7pm, and we really didn’t want to leave the room and find out what it was.) We pushed the beds together and slept with no covers due to the heat.
Saturday morning we ate breakfast and paid for our room ($24 total for the three of us. One room and breakfast included, yay budget traveling. Elevator Insurance not included.) Our cabbie from the previous day returned to drive us to the airport and we all piled in thankful that it would be our last car ride in Honduras. Highway driving is not something I would ever recommend doing with a small child in Honduras, or a grown man for that matter. Or anyone sane. In fact, bring your own set of eye covers and maybe a Michelin-Tire man outfit if you can find one, just to protect you and your sanity. We were driving along the highway at 90km an hour and standing between two lanes of traffic was a small boy guiding a blind man. Traffic didn’t slow down when the small boy stepped out into the middle of the road, so he jumped back (just in time) not to get hit. Farther on down the highway, a boy of no more than eight riding a horse bareback galloped across our lane and I covered my eyes because I thought we were going to hit them. Closer to the airport, still going 90km an hour, we passed a group of people gathered at the side of the road at what I assumed was a bus stop. Approaching them, we saw that they were actually standing there staring at a man who was dead and lying face down on the pavement, his leg, from the knee down, had been ripped from it’s socket and twisted around away from it’s original position; just one casualty of the many I imagine are caused by the appalling driving down here.
You are now reminded that this was in no sense an all-inclusive resort vacation. Our encounters with locals and other travelers were unforgettable experiences that will not be easily forgotten (especially now that we’ve seen a dead man and AK-47s). The people of Roatan were friendly, and had great senses of humor and adventure that they generously shared with us. Two weeks went by far too quickly and we didn’t accomplish as much beach time as we had hoped (ha!). There is so much more to Roatan than I’ve shared in this blog, but to experience it you’ll just have to go on your own sun and sand and parrot and banana and fish and mango and coconut and filled adventure.
Skeeter Fodder
It's been raining on and off all day. When it rains it gets so humid that everything just feels wet. I hadn't even been in the rain but all my clothes are damp just from sitting outside undercover. I just walked down the street and bought bananas (bananos) and mangoes out of the back of a pick-up truck, which is how the fresh produce is sold here in the West End. I know I go on and on about food, but these are seriously the sweetest, most delicious bananas ever and I think I might move down here just so I can eat these and fish tacos every day. I will never again eat those awful pesticide soaked flawlessly yellow imitations that they sell in North American grocery stores now that I've had a real banana. The same thing happened when I had strawberries in Japan and went home and could never enjoy strawberries again because they weren't as delicious as the ones I had there.
I went for a short swim in the rain and saw a man-of-war, those highly poisonous jellyfish with the big blue bubble heads that float on the water. The water is still beautiful even when it rains and I was hoping to get one last snorkel in before we leave tomorrow (or the next day, or the day after that...) but due to the runoff from the road, the water is pretty murky so here I am writing this instead.
I would also like to brag about the extensive collection of bug bites that I have collected on my left leg. At last count it boasted a grand total of thirty-six bites. My right leg would feel left out if I didn't mention that it has accumulated an impressive thirty-four bites. Keep in mind this does not even count the remaining bites on the rest of my body. I have this great 30% DEET repellant that I used every night, but forgot to slather it on one night when we went for a walk and as a result I have achieved that attractive polka-dotted epidermis look made popular by sufferers of the chicken-pox.
I went for a short swim in the rain and saw a man-of-war, those highly poisonous jellyfish with the big blue bubble heads that float on the water. The water is still beautiful even when it rains and I was hoping to get one last snorkel in before we leave tomorrow (or the next day, or the day after that...) but due to the runoff from the road, the water is pretty murky so here I am writing this instead.
I would also like to brag about the extensive collection of bug bites that I have collected on my left leg. At last count it boasted a grand total of thirty-six bites. My right leg would feel left out if I didn't mention that it has accumulated an impressive thirty-four bites. Keep in mind this does not even count the remaining bites on the rest of my body. I have this great 30% DEET repellant that I used every night, but forgot to slather it on one night when we went for a walk and as a result I have achieved that attractive polka-dotted epidermis look made popular by sufferers of the chicken-pox.
Last weekend on Roatan
Does anyone appreciate how difficult it is to wake up at 5:30 without an alarm clock? I was invited to go fishing with Cony, his brother and his nephew and had to wake up early. Luckily, the bars stay open until 4am, so I knew that when the music stopped, I had an hour to sleep. That was the night I spent sleeping on the hammock, Saturday night, which is the reason I was awake at 2am (I had to wait until I knew it was 4am to fall asleep. Does that make sense? No. It's ridiculous.)
Anyway, so I went down to the dock when I thought it was 5:30, and Sean was down near the cabin office. I asked him if he knew the time and he just said "Too early." So I waited, having no idea what time it was, and within 5 minutes, a little yellow boat came along (evidently I have a very accurate inner-clock) with Cony, his brother Loni (who has amazing dreadlocks) and his nephew Anthony, who is about 15. We went off shore and there was a beautiful tangerine coloured sunrise behind the island.
The water was calm and it was already warm, and as we puttered along flying fish jumped out of the calm sea and flew away from us. Bizarre creatures, and nothing like I had ever pictured them being like. Pelicans flew by, too, and a huge turtle surfaced and poked his head out of the water. Contrary to my belief that it's bad luck to have a woman on board while you're fishing, Loni and Cony said that it's actually considered good luck, and within half an hour we'd caught two wahoo, about 35-40 inches long, 'small', they said. We were fishing for tuna, wahoo and blue marlin. There was a huge cooler kept in the back of the boat, where bait fish was being kept, and I asked what kind of fish they were using. Turns out it's tuna. Beautiful tuna flesh being used as bait, can you imagine? That's like $20 worth of sashimi right there. But it did catch some huge wahoo, four in about 4 hours.
The first was small, about 15 lbs. The second had it's tailed bitten off as it was being reeled in (by a shark...?) I reeled in the biggest one, about 32 lbs. At about 11 we h
eaded in to shore, passing other fishing boats along the way and sign languaging that we'd caught 4 big wahoo. (hold up four fingers, stick out your thumb and little finger, give it a wiggle, and then hold your arms out to indicate 'huge'). We sold them onshore (not sure how much for) to a rich American with a huge cigar in his mouth and his hair slicked back.
I went back to the cabin and the girls had gone to the beach (we keep walkie-talkies handy so that we always keep in touch without phones). It was so hot I was drenched by the time I'd grabbed my swim stuff and we went to the beach. We lay on the beach for awhile and decided to head down to West Bay beach, which is a 10 minute water-taxi ride ($2.50) or a 45 minute walk. We walked down there along the coastline which is covered in eel-grass because of the storms from last week, and arrived hot and exhausted to a beach festering with people for the Easter Weekend. I've never seen so many people crammed into a beach. The water was like people-soup and just as warm. We went to the far end of the beach where it was less crowded and public, so you don't have to pay the $5 'beach lying' fee. The downside of this is that there were no security guards watching over our things, so one of us always had to watch over our things. We walked back at sundown (except that it gets dark so quickly we were stumbling over beach rocks by the time we got back. Good thing we eat our carrots, I said to Robyn).
Dinner was at the italian place, which has excellent sea-food. There were some annoying people sitting next to us at the restaurant. The kid, about 10 or 11, with glasses, waved his menu around and shouted "DOES ANY OF THIS COME WITH ANYTHING?!?". In fact, they were so obnoxious we wondered if we were on one of those reality TV shows where they torture you until you crack and then everyone laughs about it later. But no, there was no laughing later. A kitten came and sat on my lap while I ate dinner, and the girls at that table were appalled "Oh my god!?! Does it bite? Look at that girl, she has a cat on her lap. It probably bites. Oh my god." I'm just stating facts here, and will not elaborate on the annoyingness of the situation. I'm not being mean either, just factual. Let's just say that we needed a drink or two to help us get through that awful situation.
Now we're trying to figure out how to get off the island. We were going to fly from here to San Pedro Sula, and then take a bus to the ruins at Copan, but we waited until the last minute to book our flight and it looks like we may either be stuck here an extra day (there are worse places to be stuck, I can imagine), or take a ferry to the mainland and then bus it to San Pedro, where our flight leaves on Saturday. Rumor has it another storm is coming though, and the ferries don't leave when it's crazy-windy. Either way, we'll find a way to get off this beautiful rock. (Or maybe we've developed the island aloofness and just say 'meh. Guess we missed our flight and have to live down here. Meh. Pass me another smoothie.")
Anyway, so I went down to the dock when I thought it was 5:30, and Sean was down near the cabin office. I asked him if he knew the time and he just said "Too early." So I waited, having no idea what time it was, and within 5 minutes, a little yellow boat came along (evidently I have a very accurate inner-clock) with Cony, his brother Loni (who has amazing dreadlocks) and his nephew Anthony, who is about 15. We went off shore and there was a beautiful tangerine coloured sunrise behind the island.
The water was calm and it was already warm, and as we puttered along flying fish jumped out of the calm sea and flew away from us. Bizarre creatures, and nothing like I had ever pictured them being like. Pelicans flew by, too, and a huge turtle surfaced and poked his head out of the water. Contrary to my belief that it's bad luck to have a woman on board while you're fishing, Loni and Cony said that it's actually considered good luck, and within half an hour we'd caught two wahoo, about 35-40 inches long, 'small', they said. We were fishing for tuna, wahoo and blue marlin. There was a huge cooler kept in the back of the boat, where bait fish was being kept, and I asked what kind of fish they were using. Turns out it's tuna. Beautiful tuna flesh being used as bait, can you imagine? That's like $20 worth of sashimi right there. But it did catch some huge wahoo, four in about 4 hours.
The first was small, about 15 lbs. The second had it's tailed bitten off as it was being reeled in (by a shark...?) I reeled in the biggest one, about 32 lbs. At about 11 we h
eaded in to shore, passing other fishing boats along the way and sign languaging that we'd caught 4 big wahoo. (hold up four fingers, stick out your thumb and little finger, give it a wiggle, and then hold your arms out to indicate 'huge'). We sold them onshore (not sure how much for) to a rich American with a huge cigar in his mouth and his hair slicked back.I went back to the cabin and the girls had gone to the beach (we keep walkie-talkies handy so that we always keep in touch without phones). It was so hot I was drenched by the time I'd grabbed my swim stuff and we went to the beach. We lay on the beach for awhile and decided to head down to West Bay beach, which is a 10 minute water-taxi ride ($2.50) or a 45 minute walk. We walked down there along the coastline which is covered in eel-grass because of the storms from last week, and arrived hot and exhausted to a beach festering with people for the Easter Weekend. I've never seen so many people crammed into a beach. The water was like people-soup and just as warm. We went to the far end of the beach where it was less crowded and public, so you don't have to pay the $5 'beach lying' fee. The downside of this is that there were no security guards watching over our things, so one of us always had to watch over our things. We walked back at sundown (except that it gets dark so quickly we were stumbling over beach rocks by the time we got back. Good thing we eat our carrots, I said to Robyn).
Dinner was at the italian place, which has excellent sea-food. There were some annoying people sitting next to us at the restaurant. The kid, about 10 or 11, with glasses, waved his menu around and shouted "DOES ANY OF THIS COME WITH ANYTHING?!?". In fact, they were so obnoxious we wondered if we were on one of those reality TV shows where they torture you until you crack and then everyone laughs about it later. But no, there was no laughing later. A kitten came and sat on my lap while I ate dinner, and the girls at that table were appalled "Oh my god!?! Does it bite? Look at that girl, she has a cat on her lap. It probably bites. Oh my god." I'm just stating facts here, and will not elaborate on the annoyingness of the situation. I'm not being mean either, just factual. Let's just say that we needed a drink or two to help us get through that awful situation.
Now we're trying to figure out how to get off the island. We were going to fly from here to San Pedro Sula, and then take a bus to the ruins at Copan, but we waited until the last minute to book our flight and it looks like we may either be stuck here an extra day (there are worse places to be stuck, I can imagine), or take a ferry to the mainland and then bus it to San Pedro, where our flight leaves on Saturday. Rumor has it another storm is coming though, and the ferries don't leave when it's crazy-windy. Either way, we'll find a way to get off this beautiful rock. (Or maybe we've developed the island aloofness and just say 'meh. Guess we missed our flight and have to live down here. Meh. Pass me another smoothie.")
The ABCs of Roatan
This is the type of categorical nonsense I come up with at 2am when I can't sleep, when I go lie out on the hammock, mess around with the thoughts in my head and get dive-bombed by bats.
The Unofficial ABC's of Roatan, by Kimie, with input from Robyn and Danielle:
A is for Alex, my codename down here. As in "Hi I'm Mario from Mexico, and who might you be?""Nice to meet you, Mario. I'm Alex from Kansas."
B is for Banana soda, like cream soda, only tasting more of bananas!
C is for Creole- my new favorite language. As far as I can tell it's a mix of spanish, english, french and sign language. Something like "what are you doing tonight" is "whatyalldoonnight?" only mumbled, and without any consonants so it sounds like "ayallooight?" and the answer is "yeh." I can understand it. There's a lot of head nodding too. I am a master of it by now and Robyn and Danielle keep telling me to quit mumbling.
D is for Dylan. As in, "Oh Mario, you haven't met my friend Dylan." aka Robyn.
E is for Enormous ex-football players that Robyn spits on like a llama when she laughs. This girl is no longer allowed coca-cola.
F is for Fish tacos. I've eaten them every night for the past 5 days for dinner.
G is for Gabriel Garcia Marquez, a Colombian writer. I just finished 'Love in the Time of Cholera' while lying on the beach. Best book I've read in a long while, and it takes place on the shores of the Caribbean.
H is for hammocks.
I is for iguanas! They're as common as squirrels down here, only three feet long. I asked the lady who owns the place where we're staying how they get down from the trees. She says they fall down.
J is for jacuzzi water. I'll never get tired of swimming in a warm ocean.
K is for lack of key lime pie. Every night after fish tacos we ask if they have key lime pie because the sign that says 'desserts' on a white board says 'key lime pie'. So K is for lack of Key lime pie.
L is for leaf cutter ants! Every night between 9 and 10pm little leaf cutter ants march in a line across our walkway up the cabin. The other night it started pouring rain, and the next morning when we went down the stairs, there was a perfect little trail of abandoned leaf pieces. It started pouring and they abandoned their leaves and ran for their poor little ant lives!!
M is for Cony, a local we met at the dive shop and who has invited us to volleyball games. I asked if it was short for anything, and he says that because his dad is half Scottish, he wanted to name one of his sons a Scottish name, so he named him McConey. When his birth certificate was being written out, they wrote 'Mercury' by mistake, which is now his legal name. So M is for Cony.
N is for Natalie (Danielle's codename). "Mario, meet Natalie." "Nice to meet you, Alex, Dylan and Natalie. Do any of you speak spanish?"Dylan: "Yeah Danielle speaks a little."Mario: "And who is Danielle?" Oops.
O is for octopi. Haven't seen any.
P is for Parrots! They're in a cage at the bottom of the stairs leading up to our cabin, and they whistle and give catcalls every time we walk by.
Q is for BBQimie, because I have been nicely seared.
R is for rumbrella! We ran down the street in a torrential downpour and used a bottle of rum as an umbrella.
S is for sand and salt. It could be for smoothies, or snorkeling, or SNUBA diving (yes, snuba) but sand and salt is in every fold of clothing and embedded in our scalps and our ears. We're marinating in it.
T is for Typical Breakfast (plato typico!) Refried beans, fried eggs, avocado and white cheese wrapped up in a corn tortilla. Mmmmmmmmmmm.
U is for Utah. The first friends we made down here were from Utah, and they get special mention in here. They also attended 'The U' which is what they call the University of Utah.
V is for vanity out the window. We get so salty why bother taking a shower? PS: Apparently my hair is curly.
W is for Wahoo! I went on a fishing expedition this morning and caught a 32 pound Wahoo (I've asked why they're called that and no one seems to know. We can only guess it's because that's what you shout when you've caught one.
X is for X-ray. Our waiter, Sean, at the fish taco place broke his hand the day before we arrived here, and his hand is in a cast. He's a skinny little guy and has glasses. He's lived all over the states and couldn't be much older than us, but he's really gotten into island life.
"How did you hurt your hand, Sean?"
"On someone's face."
He said he got an X-ray of the rest of his body and he's going to put it onto a T-shirt.
Y is for "Yaloa", how the local girls say "hello"
Z is for Zupa. (soup). As in, it's a bird! It's a plane! It's Zupaman! (Just like the more well known superhero, only more likely to be found carrying crackers and a spoon). Actually it's not even spelled with a Z. It's an S. Nothing down here starts with Z.
And there you have it.
PS: It's not a problem for anyone if I don't ever come back, is it?
No Sharks. I promise.
On Tuesday, one of the local guys had offered to give us a tour of the island in his mom's car. We waited on the beach at 11, when he said he'd meet us, and he never showed up. A little miffed at being stood up (or maybe he couldn't let his mom to lend him her brand new car...?) we sat on the beach and contemplated whether to nap, swim, or eat a smoothie as our first activity of the day.
As we sat there in our states of lethargy (and for Robyn and Danielle, states of hangovers induced by caribbean rum) enjoying the sun, we saw our buddy Ty walk by, so we shouted at him and asked what he was doing. He shrugged nothing and asked if we wanted to be taken out to a shipwreck to go snorkeling? We had our snorkel gear on hand and said of course. He needed to fuel up first, and we needed to fuel up on Smoothies, but 20 minutes later we were speeding and weaving through reefs on his little boat, with his buddy Ernie. We zoomed up the island about 12km and there, about 1km out from shore, was a big rusty heap.
Danielle was skeptical because she hates Groupers, those huge ugly fish with big lips. Completely harmless, but annoying, she says. I was skeptical because it was a big rusty heap, and we were so far out from shore. The water was really choppy and Ty said to keep our eyes out for a black buoy. We circled and circled again, looking for it. And after a few tries he said said we'd have to tie the boat to a rock. Now, as a seasoned boater (okay, well I've been on a boat at least) my sailor's instincts told me that tying a 15 foot boat to a rock under water in choppy weather is not a good idea. The water was completely clear and only 10 feet deep, and eventually I saw something that looked like a rope, about a foot beneath the water. We were still circling, trying to find the best rock to tie the boat to, but when I pointed out the rope I saw, that was anchored to the bottom, Ty dove down and got it. Apparently the buoy had come loose, but it was the right rope. I have a feeling my trained sailor's eyes finding that rope saved us from losing the boat.
Before hopping in the water I needed some reassurance. "Hey Ty, what's the protocol if we see a shark?"
"No sharks here." He said in his easy-going Creole way.
"Promise?!!!"
Ty, laughing: "Yeah, promise."
I hopped in the water, feeling slightly relieved.
It was the most beautiful, colorful, radiant place I've ever seen. Stretches and stretches of pristine, lively coral reefs. Hard to believe that below that choppy surface, and below the rusty tops of that shipwreck was a magnificent (and I don't usually use that word) world, so serene and calm and clear and blue. I spotted a little squid or cuttlefish with huge eyes who fluttered curiously around us. Ty pointed out an ugly barracuda moving past us, and beneath him, a huge sting-ray gliding along the sand. We saw a turtle dart away from us (I had no idea they were so fast! So fast I didn't have time to snap a picture) And eventually we were so far from the boat we had to make our way back after an hour and a half.
As we sat there in our states of lethargy (and for Robyn and Danielle, states of hangovers induced by caribbean rum) enjoying the sun, we saw our buddy Ty walk by, so we shouted at him and asked what he was doing. He shrugged nothing and asked if we wanted to be taken out to a shipwreck to go snorkeling? We had our snorkel gear on hand and said of course. He needed to fuel up first, and we needed to fuel up on Smoothies, but 20 minutes later we were speeding and weaving through reefs on his little boat, with his buddy Ernie. We zoomed up the island about 12km and there, about 1km out from shore, was a big rusty heap.
Danielle was skeptical because she hates Groupers, those huge ugly fish with big lips. Completely harmless, but annoying, she says. I was skeptical because it was a big rusty heap, and we were so far out from shore. The water was really choppy and Ty said to keep our eyes out for a black buoy. We circled and circled again, looking for it. And after a few tries he said said we'd have to tie the boat to a rock. Now, as a seasoned boater (okay, well I've been on a boat at least) my sailor's instincts told me that tying a 15 foot boat to a rock under water in choppy weather is not a good idea. The water was completely clear and only 10 feet deep, and eventually I saw something that looked like a rope, about a foot beneath the water. We were still circling, trying to find the best rock to tie the boat to, but when I pointed out the rope I saw, that was anchored to the bottom, Ty dove down and got it. Apparently the buoy had come loose, but it was the right rope. I have a feeling my trained sailor's eyes finding that rope saved us from losing the boat.
Before hopping in the water I needed some reassurance. "Hey Ty, what's the protocol if we see a shark?"
"No sharks here." He said in his easy-going Creole way.
"Promise?!!!"
Ty, laughing: "Yeah, promise."
I hopped in the water, feeling slightly relieved.
It was the most beautiful, colorful, radiant place I've ever seen. Stretches and stretches of pristine, lively coral reefs. Hard to believe that below that choppy surface, and below the rusty tops of that shipwreck was a magnificent (and I don't usually use that word) world, so serene and calm and clear and blue. I spotted a little squid or cuttlefish with huge eyes who fluttered curiously around us. Ty pointed out an ugly barracuda moving past us, and beneath him, a huge sting-ray gliding along the sand. We saw a turtle dart away from us (I had no idea they were so fast! So fast I didn't have time to snap a picture) And eventually we were so far from the boat we had to make our way back after an hour and a half.
We hopped out of the water and thanked Ty for sharing that beautiful place with us. He shrugged, grinning, and said "Yeah it's too bad I couldn't find the nurse shark I was looking for." "You promised there were no sharks!!"
"It was a NURSE shark! Harmless."
Having been so far from shore, and so far from the boat, in only 10 feet of water, and having been promised there were no sharks, I can only imagine the ensuing panic had he successfully found a nurse shark to show us, harmless or not.
Nostra Coco -literally, 'we coconut' (from Travel Blog)
Up at the crack of ... well... dawn I guess. The roosters were crowing, but I still have no idea what time it is. I went outside to lie in the hammock and read before Robyn and Danielle woke up (they had been drinking caribbean rum and went dancing yesterday night, I still wasn't feeling so well so I stayed home. Plus I don't dance.) There was a barn owl sitting on our balcony just outside our door, and of course, when I went to take a picture of it, it flew off. We'd picked up a coconut from the beach last night and brought it home, so at dawn I lay in the hammock and shucked it. It's harder than you'd think, and I was covered in coconut sawdust by the end, but there is something ultimately satisfying about shucking your own coconut (if that's what you do with it. Peeling? no. Removing the husk?)
Trying to recall what we did yesterday, and it consists of this: Woke up, ate breaky at 11:30. Walked to the bank. Walked back. Lay in the hammock and read. Went for
a swim at the beach. Dinner time. Walked down the road to watch a volleyball game. Then more reading and sleep. Clearly, we're on island time and we have no watch or clocks. In my previous blog I forgot to mention this. We were walking down the street on our first night here, and we pass a little open bar called the Purple Turtle. It's full of people our age, and as I'm ushered through to the end of the bar a guy says to me "Hola. You are the most beautiful girl I've seen in two weeks." My first thought was that I wasn't "the most beautiful girl he's EVER seen." No, just in two weeks. Hmmph. I'm pretty sure I reacted with a famous Kimie weird look. Cocked eyebrow and frown and What?! written all over my face. We ran into him again last night, and I told him that I thought it was hilarious that I was only the most beautiful girl he'd seen in two weeks. He responded with: "Well... maybe in three weeks. Yes. Definitely three." At least these guys are honest.
Flight and Fright (from travel blog)
We made it down here, despite ourselves. There was no problem crossing the border or going through Seattle, we had thought that because it was the Friday afternoon at the beginning of spring break, that it would be uber busy, but we arrived at the airport early.
Our flight to Atlanta left around 9:45, and after driving for so long, it felt late and we were tired. I sat down on the wrong seat on the plane. Seat 30C instead of 32D. Good thing Robyn was there looking out for me. Slept intermittently on the flight, taking breaks to flip through the music and TV channels available on the small screen TV's on the seats in front of us. An announcement came on asking if there were any doctors or medical personnell on the plane (!) No one was panicking, so we remained calm. Around 4am Atlanta time, about 2 hours before we landed, I flipped channels:
"new acne treatment!"
"your cat will love fancy feast!"
"CNN Breaking news! Tornado hits Atlanta!"
WHAT!!
The pilot came on and said we may experience some slight turbulence. Robyn nearly threw up and I couldn't find any barf bags. No one else had their little TV's on and were completely oblivious to what had happened in Atlanta, except for the pilot saying that there had been a storm.
Eventually we landed. As usual there was a delay, and I thought the plane was being washed (an odd thing to have done to the plane immediately after landing, but it felt like the plane was being drenched by buckets and hoses) and the captain says "well, the good news is we landed. No, wait, I didn't mean it like that! I meant, it's a good thing we landed when we did. However, all the traffic control personnell have been sent inside due to the lightening and I don't know when they will be coming back outside. As you can see, it's raining fairly heavily outside." And I had thought the plane was being cleaned... I've never seen it rain so hard in my entire life.
ANYWAY... we finally got off the plane and went on a search for Ginger Ale to settle our stomachs. We asked everywhere and looked in every vending machine to no avail. The last restaurant, TGI Friday's said they carried it so we sat down, planning to just order that... and the waitress said they were all out. Our flight to Roatan didn't leave until 11:50, and we slept, contorted in uncomfortable positions on the floor, for 4 hours. Flight to Roatan was comparably uneventful, as there were no tornados waiting at the island.
Stepping off the plane was like stepping into the Amazon rainforest gallery at the Vancouver Aquarium, so hot and so humid. We took a cab to our cabin (they had sent it to pick us up, so there was a sign that said "Welcome Robyn!" when we had made it through customs. We thought our cabin was a little bit of a walk to the beach, but the front office is pretty much on the beach. We climbed some stairs up through dense vegetation, where little geckos and leaf cutter ants crossed the pathway stairs. Our cabin is this beautiful little duplex (we can hear our neighbours. It isn't very private. We hum little tunes while we pee because there's so little privacy). It does have it's own bathroom and shower, and even a little fridge, plus, the best part of all, a hammock at the front entrance, covered by a little patio roof.
So, now we've been here three days. Som e of the highlights are ... (okay, this is food. My family will make fun of me for this because it's ALWAYS about the food for Kimie.)
There are these amazing smoothies that they make at a little outdoor restaurant attached to the place we're staying. "Uno coco smoothie, por favor!"
At breakfast on our second day we met two brothers from Utah and decided to catch a water taxi over to the beach with them. They had to go rent snorkel gear, and they also rented a kayak while they were at it, deciding that it was more economical to rent a kayak for five bucks than to pay five bucks each to lie on the beach (which is what they charge. Ridiculous!!). So we all threw our stuff into the kayak and paddled out to the reef for the most amazing snorkelling. Unfortunately, between Robyn, Danielle and I, none of us brought an underwater camera. I bought one the day after, so we'll have to go back and take more. We made friends with a local guy who drives a water Taxi, his name is Ty, and he took us in his boat to see the dolphins, which are kept in a pen a little ways up the island. Ty is funny- very shy, but he grew up here so he knows everything about the island, and his english is perfect.
That same night, we decided we wanted to go for a swim on the beach just outside our cabin. I asked Ty if there was anything in the water to be worried about if we planned on going swimming and he said no, could he come swimming too? And we said of course. So we all waded into the water and are standing there chatting and Ty says, "you know, a guy caught a Mako Shark on Friday, just around the point over there." And he points to a spot not 500 metres away. I start laughing hysterically and ask him if he's serious. He tells us the story of how the guy who caught it took an hour and a half to pull it in, how it was over 5 feet long, and how they're more dangerous than great whites. Then he says "oh yeah, and there are water snakes in here too. Sometimes they travel in packs." AAAAH!! We hopped out of the water pronto.
Monday island time finally hit us and we were moving really slow. None of us brought a watch and we never know what time it is, but we're perfectly happy about that too. We said goodbye to our Utah friends as they were headed off to catch a ferry to Utilla for the week, and we headed over to Half Moon bay to do some more snorkelling. Turns out it was fairly weedy and mucky over there. I swam out snorkelling by myself, not too far out because I was alone, and ran into a lone Barracuda. They are UGLY looking beasts of the sea. I stuck my tongue out at him and swam back, feeling a little chicken that a fish could spook me, so dragged Robyn out to snorkel with me and felt a little safer.
Monday night I felt really tired and lay in our hammock napping on and off, and reading my book. Eventually I got very chilly. Robyn and Danielle stayed on the beach, and when they returned to the cabin I was wearing two layers of clothing, and wrapped up in my sleeping bag, with a sheet and a thin comforter over me, while they were boiling and couldn't stand the heat of the cabin. They wanted to go for dinner, but I didn't have an appetite. I felt fine, except for the fact that I was shivery and didn't want to eat ( and you know there's something wrong when Kimie doesn't want to eat). I stayed in and read and shivered, and felt better later on. This very bad sunburn may have something to do with sunstroke. (and yes, Mom, I was wearing a hat. And sunscreen. And I drank lots of water to keep myself hydrated.)
We're on island time and wear our swimsuits continuously. The bugs are biting but it doesn't seem to bother us! We are sunburned and sunstroked and salty and sweaty and don't care what time it is. We are trying not to be mistaken for Americans, because the locals can be pretty stand-off-ish when they assume that we are... once they find out that we're Canadian they are very friendly and invite us to their baseball games and volleyball games and offer us rides on their scooters and to bring us to dolphin shows... good thing dad gave me a Canadian flag pin before I left. Anyway, I promise not to be eaten by a shark, or make any barracudas angry... Til next time, Kimie (or a very sunburnt resemblance of her)
Our flight to Atlanta left around 9:45, and after driving for so long, it felt late and we were tired. I sat down on the wrong seat on the plane. Seat 30C instead of 32D. Good thing Robyn was there looking out for me. Slept intermittently on the flight, taking breaks to flip through the music and TV channels available on the small screen TV's on the seats in front of us. An announcement came on asking if there were any doctors or medical personnell on the plane (!) No one was panicking, so we remained calm. Around 4am Atlanta time, about 2 hours before we landed, I flipped channels:
"new acne treatment!"
"your cat will love fancy feast!"
"CNN Breaking news! Tornado hits Atlanta!"
WHAT!!
The pilot came on and said we may experience some slight turbulence. Robyn nearly threw up and I couldn't find any barf bags. No one else had their little TV's on and were completely oblivious to what had happened in Atlanta, except for the pilot saying that there had been a storm.
Eventually we landed. As usual there was a delay, and I thought the plane was being washed (an odd thing to have done to the plane immediately after landing, but it felt like the plane was being drenched by buckets and hoses) and the captain says "well, the good news is we landed. No, wait, I didn't mean it like that! I meant, it's a good thing we landed when we did. However, all the traffic control personnell have been sent inside due to the lightening and I don't know when they will be coming back outside. As you can see, it's raining fairly heavily outside." And I had thought the plane was being cleaned... I've never seen it rain so hard in my entire life.
ANYWAY... we finally got off the plane and went on a search for Ginger Ale to settle our stomachs. We asked everywhere and looked in every vending machine to no avail. The last restaurant, TGI Friday's said they carried it so we sat down, planning to just order that... and the waitress said they were all out. Our flight to Roatan didn't leave until 11:50, and we slept, contorted in uncomfortable positions on the floor, for 4 hours. Flight to Roatan was comparably uneventful, as there were no tornados waiting at the island.
Stepping off the plane was like stepping into the Amazon rainforest gallery at the Vancouver Aquarium, so hot and so humid. We took a cab to our cabin (they had sent it to pick us up, so there was a sign that said "Welcome Robyn!" when we had made it through customs. We thought our cabin was a little bit of a walk to the beach, but the front office is pretty much on the beach. We climbed some stairs up through dense vegetation, where little geckos and leaf cutter ants crossed the pathway stairs. Our cabin is this beautiful little duplex (we can hear our neighbours. It isn't very private. We hum little tunes while we pee because there's so little privacy). It does have it's own bathroom and shower, and even a little fridge, plus, the best part of all, a hammock at the front entrance, covered by a little patio roof.
So, now we've been here three days. Som e of the highlights are ... (okay, this is food. My family will make fun of me for this because it's ALWAYS about the food for Kimie.)
There are these amazing smoothies that they make at a little outdoor restaurant attached to the place we're staying. "Uno coco smoothie, por favor!"At breakfast on our second day we met two brothers from Utah and decided to catch a water taxi over to the beach with them. They had to go rent snorkel gear, and they also rented a kayak while they were at it, deciding that it was more economical to rent a kayak for five bucks than to pay five bucks each to lie on the beach (which is what they charge. Ridiculous!!). So we all threw our stuff into the kayak and paddled out to the reef for the most amazing snorkelling. Unfortunately, between Robyn, Danielle and I, none of us brought an underwater camera. I bought one the day after, so we'll have to go back and take more. We made friends with a local guy who drives a water Taxi, his name is Ty, and he took us in his boat to see the dolphins, which are kept in a pen a little ways up the island. Ty is funny- very shy, but he grew up here so he knows everything about the island, and his english is perfect.
That same night, we decided we wanted to go for a swim on the beach just outside our cabin. I asked Ty if there was anything in the water to be worried about if we planned on going swimming and he said no, could he come swimming too? And we said of course. So we all waded into the water and are standing there chatting and Ty says, "you know, a guy caught a Mako Shark on Friday, just around the point over there." And he points to a spot not 500 metres away. I start laughing hysterically and ask him if he's serious. He tells us the story of how the guy who caught it took an hour and a half to pull it in, how it was over 5 feet long, and how they're more dangerous than great whites. Then he says "oh yeah, and there are water snakes in here too. Sometimes they travel in packs." AAAAH!! We hopped out of the water pronto.
Monday island time finally hit us and we were moving really slow. None of us brought a watch and we never know what time it is, but we're perfectly happy about that too. We said goodbye to our Utah friends as they were headed off to catch a ferry to Utilla for the week, and we headed over to Half Moon bay to do some more snorkelling. Turns out it was fairly weedy and mucky over there. I swam out snorkelling by myself, not too far out because I was alone, and ran into a lone Barracuda. They are UGLY looking beasts of the sea. I stuck my tongue out at him and swam back, feeling a little chicken that a fish could spook me, so dragged Robyn out to snorkel with me and felt a little safer.
Monday night I felt really tired and lay in our hammock napping on and off, and reading my book. Eventually I got very chilly. Robyn and Danielle stayed on the beach, and when they returned to the cabin I was wearing two layers of clothing, and wrapped up in my sleeping bag, with a sheet and a thin comforter over me, while they were boiling and couldn't stand the heat of the cabin. They wanted to go for dinner, but I didn't have an appetite. I felt fine, except for the fact that I was shivery and didn't want to eat ( and you know there's something wrong when Kimie doesn't want to eat). I stayed in and read and shivered, and felt better later on. This very bad sunburn may have something to do with sunstroke. (and yes, Mom, I was wearing a hat. And sunscreen. And I drank lots of water to keep myself hydrated.)
We're on island time and wear our swimsuits continuously. The bugs are biting but it doesn't seem to bother us! We are sunburned and sunstroked and salty and sweaty and don't care what time it is. We are trying not to be mistaken for Americans, because the locals can be pretty stand-off-ish when they assume that we are... once they find out that we're Canadian they are very friendly and invite us to their baseball games and volleyball games and offer us rides on their scooters and to bring us to dolphin shows... good thing dad gave me a Canadian flag pin before I left. Anyway, I promise not to be eaten by a shark, or make any barracudas angry... Til next time, Kimie (or a very sunburnt resemblance of her)
Bananular Nonsense (From my Travel Blog)
Two questions were asked when we announced that we were headed to Honduras: “Where?” and “Why Honduras?” The answers are simple: “Central America” to the former, and to the latter “pirates and mud-people”(which should be the answer to more things in life). Honduras actually spans the isthmus of Central America and has coastal territory on both the Pacific and the Caribbean. We’ve had enough of grey winter so it’s about time for some Caribbean sunshine. (Saturday’s forecast for Roatan is 27 degrees and sunny)
So what exactly is in Honduras? Why choose there? Well, an obvious answer is bananas. Everyone loves bananas. If bananas were idols of pop-culture, they would be on the cover of ‘Fruit Weekly’. Anyway, I hear they grow there. Upside down!! What crazy fruits. I know why they’re crazy: because all their banana-blood rushes to their heads. Or maybe we just eat them upside down… ever think about that?
Quick: Think of all the songs that have lyrics about Bananas!
Hollaback Girl- Gwen Stefani
Banana phone- Raffi
I like to eat, eat, eat, apples and bananas - Possibly also by Raffi.
Banana Pancakes - Jack Johnson
Day-oh! - By some poor guy who tallies bananas and wants to go home.
Clearly, many people like bananas, but to the best of my knowledge, no one has created such an extensive banana-filled compilation such as this. I would come up with a name for the album (“A-peeling tunes” or …) but, no, lets not be ridiculous. Carrying right along, then…
Around 900AD, the Mayans abandoned their complex civilizations, including some structures in Honduras. These eerie ruins still stand today, despite being defaced over the centuries. We can visit them and see the graffiti that has been etched throughout modern times, another reason to visit Honduras.
Over half a millennia after the Mayans, after Columbus had landed and named the land after the depths off the coast, and after the Spanish had colonized the land and enraged the native peoples, gold and silver was discovered and PIRATES (real ones!) would terrorize cargo ships on the Caribbean coast. Arrrrrrr!!
(I lost my train of thought because Robyn suggested that I ‘get into character’ and put on my diving fins. I’m not sure the character I was going for was ‘Awkward, the Awkwarder…est’ . It’s a little more Steve Zissou than I had hoped.)
Speaking of diving, Robyn is concerned about these Whale sharks. It will be whale shark season while we’re down there, you see. “Hey do you think we’ll see whale sharks?” I asked, and she got all flustered: “Whales or sharks, I thought whales were nice and sharks were mean and how did they end up as one creature and what is with those SPOTS? Are they trying to camouflage on my polka-dotted boots or something I just don’t get it what are these things?” I hear there are turtles there too, but shh… we don’t want her to get too excited.
Oh I definitely forgot to explain the previously mentioned ‘mud people’. Robyn was flipping through the Lonely Planet guide and got excited about the section on ruins. She explained to me these ancient peoples’ story of creationism: The gods wanted to be appreciated, so first they created animals, but all the animals could do was grunt at them. So the gods made people out of mud and they were no good at appreciating the gods either because they just dried out, and crumbled into dirt. So then they made people out of wood, but they were no good either. They just wooded around and hid from beavers. Finally they made people from flesh. And here we are, the flesh people! At least we aren’t called the ‘meat people’.
Details: We drive down to Seattle on Friday and fly to Atlanta. Our stopover is from 6am to 10am and then we fly directly to Roatan, landing at 1pm on Saturday afternoon, just in time for a snoozesta. My first task on this adventure is to master the local Atlantan dialect (which is what they speak in the state of Georgia, of course.) The useful phrase I'm trying to master is "howdy y'all. I want me some fries with that there cheeeeeeseburger." We will be in Atlanta over breakfast, after all, and I hear cheeseburgers are the only crop that flourishes in America.
So what exactly is in Honduras? Why choose there? Well, an obvious answer is bananas. Everyone loves bananas. If bananas were idols of pop-culture, they would be on the cover of ‘Fruit Weekly’. Anyway, I hear they grow there. Upside down!! What crazy fruits. I know why they’re crazy: because all their banana-blood rushes to their heads. Or maybe we just eat them upside down… ever think about that?
Quick: Think of all the songs that have lyrics about Bananas!
Hollaback Girl- Gwen Stefani
Banana phone- Raffi
I like to eat, eat, eat, apples and bananas - Possibly also by Raffi.
Banana Pancakes - Jack Johnson
Day-oh! - By some poor guy who tallies bananas and wants to go home.
Clearly, many people like bananas, but to the best of my knowledge, no one has created such an extensive banana-filled compilation such as this. I would come up with a name for the album (“A-peeling tunes” or …) but, no, lets not be ridiculous. Carrying right along, then…
Around 900AD, the Mayans abandoned their complex civilizations, including some structures in Honduras. These eerie ruins still stand today, despite being defaced over the centuries. We can visit them and see the graffiti that has been etched throughout modern times, another reason to visit Honduras.
Over half a millennia after the Mayans, after Columbus had landed and named the land after the depths off the coast, and after the Spanish had colonized the land and enraged the native peoples, gold and silver was discovered and PIRATES (real ones!) would terrorize cargo ships on the Caribbean coast. Arrrrrrr!!
(I lost my train of thought because Robyn suggested that I ‘get into character’ and put on my diving fins. I’m not sure the character I was going for was ‘Awkward, the Awkwarder…est’ . It’s a little more Steve Zissou than I had hoped.)
Speaking of diving, Robyn is concerned about these Whale sharks. It will be whale shark season while we’re down there, you see. “Hey do you think we’ll see whale sharks?” I asked, and she got all flustered: “Whales or sharks, I thought whales were nice and sharks were mean and how did they end up as one creature and what is with those SPOTS? Are they trying to camouflage on my polka-dotted boots or something I just don’t get it what are these things?” I hear there are turtles there too, but shh… we don’t want her to get too excited.
Oh I definitely forgot to explain the previously mentioned ‘mud people’. Robyn was flipping through the Lonely Planet guide and got excited about the section on ruins. She explained to me these ancient peoples’ story of creationism: The gods wanted to be appreciated, so first they created animals, but all the animals could do was grunt at them. So the gods made people out of mud and they were no good at appreciating the gods either because they just dried out, and crumbled into dirt. So then they made people out of wood, but they were no good either. They just wooded around and hid from beavers. Finally they made people from flesh. And here we are, the flesh people! At least we aren’t called the ‘meat people’.
Details: We drive down to Seattle on Friday and fly to Atlanta. Our stopover is from 6am to 10am and then we fly directly to Roatan, landing at 1pm on Saturday afternoon, just in time for a snoozesta. My first task on this adventure is to master the local Atlantan dialect (which is what they speak in the state of Georgia, of course.) The useful phrase I'm trying to master is "howdy y'all. I want me some fries with that there cheeeeeeseburger." We will be in Atlanta over breakfast, after all, and I hear cheeseburgers are the only crop that flourishes in America.
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