Honduras: a mixed bag

A lot of overlanders skip Honduras, mostly because of widespread police corruption on the 100-km Honduran stretch of the Pan-American highway, and the country’s reputation as the poorest and most dangerous in Central America. We decided to do a basic tour of the country and try to avoid that stretch of highway, as well as the country’s dangerous cities.

After a painful border crossing and welcome-to-Honduras power failure, we spent two tranquil nights at the D&D Brewery near Lake Yojoa. The set-up isn’t exactly ideal for overlanders since you sleep in the parking lot next to a power generator that kicks on regularly, but it is a good stopping point if you’re on the way to the Atlantic coast. We also got to go on a nice walk to the nearby coffee plantation, which is filled with nice birds and trees. Alternatively, you could also camp at the Finca or at the hotel next to the brewery.

The next day was a bad day. Because of some poor preparation on my part (bad directions, not enough cash) and bad roads (the drive took us five hours instead of three and a half), we ended up tooling around Honduras’s third largest city, La Ceiba, in the dark, trying to find a place to spend the night. Just as we were getting supremely irritated with one another and Honduras in general, we pulled up to yet another hotel, where I jumped out to perform my usual rigamarole of asking about parking, prices, and the dog (who is extremely bueneducado, no muerde, no lardra—very well-behaved, doesn’t bite, doesn’t bark…) To my surprise, the hotel lobby was completely dark, and the front double glass doors were locked. I could see a bunch of people standing around inside, so I tapped on the glass and waited until one came over to let me in.

“Is the electricity out?” I asked.

“We turned it off,” the guy at the door said. “What do you want?”

He seemed surprised that I wanted a room, but he pointed me to the reception, where a burly guy stood—in the dark. We were all in the dark. I wondered if maybe the place was a front for something, and pretending (badly) to be a functioning hotel. I asked about the sealed underground parking we could see from the street—since the area seemed a little sketchy, this was a priority. The man rattled out something about the parking being closed, but that we could put the car in later. I didn’t really understand what he was getting at, so he switched into English.

“You can move your car into the parking later. Somebody has to go and open it, but we’re afraid to go outside right now because of the shooting.”

“The shooting?” I said.

“Yeah—there was a big shootout. You didn’t hear it?”

I finally understood that a series of loud noises we’d dismissed earlier was actually gunfire—not leftover Carnaval fireworks from the weekend—and that the hotel was in lockdown. At this point, two armed police officers were admitted into the building. They crossed the lobby, guns at their sides, and exited through the back.

“I guess we did hear it,” I said.

“Yeah, we don’t want to go outside to the parking because we don’t want to get a bullet, you know?”

I could understand that but it was all for naught, though, as they were not dog-friendly—although this concierge was nice enough to suggest trying the place across the street, we moved on, feeling more than a bit despondent, and went to a shopping mall to draw out some cash. Inside the mall, everything felt normal. An armed guard directed me to an ATM. I ate some ice cream. And then we found a hotel just up the road with secure parking, air-conditioning, and hot showers. Juan implored me to learn how to use the GPS, and I resolved to stop being such an easy-going traveler for the time we are in Honduras.

The next morning, we made our way back to Sambo Creek, armed with cash. Sambo Creek is not much to write about. We stayed at the Hotel Canadien, which is, unsurprisingly, up for sale. Of its 44 guest rooms, I think three were occupied. They forbid you to bring in your own food or drink (which we ignored) so that you consume all meals in their restaurant, which served us the worst breakfast so far on our trip and the second night, closed at 5:30 p.m., a bit too early—even for me—to eat. The entire town was basically devoid of internet connectivity, which was annoying because we were trying to set up a meeting with a nonprofit organization close by.

After a no-go day in Sambo Creek, we finally got a boat to take us to the Cayos Cochinos, a set of small islands just off the coast. This was really my motivation to come to Honduras, and they did not disappoint.

The ride out to the islands was choppy and more exciting than I would have liked (a small boat in big waves), and Juan and I both got drenched. On our day tour, we saw iguanas and snakes, got a chance to snorkel with blowfish and barracudas, and had a nice lunch of fried fish on an inhabited island about 100 meters across, surrounded by warm, turquoise waters in all directions.

It seemed unthinkable that such tiny islands could be anyone’s permanent home. With the dramatic mountains in the background, it made for one of my favorite sights thus far.

We were able to get enough internet to make our site visit Friday morning to check out the Honduras Child Alliance on behalf of the Muskoka Foundation, the organization that connects overlanders with volunteer opportunities. Then we made our way, having to backtrack about a day and half.

Overall, Honduras has not been the easiest time. It has been expensive (gas costs more, and we stayed in a lot more hotels because all the Hondurans warned us against camping), the roads have been pretty bad (in terms of quality but also extent, as we had to backtrack from the coast pretty much on the same exact route. But it has also been interesting. The country is ethnically diverse—it reminded me of Cuba—and while there aren’t as many tourists as the other places we’ve visited, the northern coast is absolutely teeming with missionaries. I also had a coconut curry stew with an entire fish in it that was unlike anything we’ve eaten so far in Central America. In any case, I’m glad we came, but looking forward to crossing into Nicaragua tomorrow.

For more photos of Honduras, including Comayagua, El Porvenir, and Gracias, visit limpire.com