Exploring the backside of water is even more exciting than it sounds

Our last day in Copán was marred slightly by an unexpected 16-hour power outage.  Things were still open (restaurants all cook with gas), and was mostly obnoxious because we couldn´t get some laundry done as we had hoped.  We were also cut off from the internet which I had been hoping on using.  But oh well, we sat in the town square and enjoyed just hanging out for a while.  And fortunately the power came back on about 7pm, so we were able to turn on the fans when we went to bed.  (Otherwise we would not have gone to bed, way too hot!)

We caught a 7am bus up to San Pedro Sula.  A horrifying new trend for me is that I´m starting to experience carsickness on some of these busses.  This has never been a problem for me before, and I´m really quite annoyed with it.  I´d bought some corn muffins from a corner store next to the bus station just before we boarded, and they turned out to be quite stale, but at least it got me over the hump.  From San Pedro we walked along a surprisingly large bus station and found a connecting chicken bus to our next destination, a small town called Los Naranjos on Lake Yajoa.

I thought I was catching movement out of the corner of my eye as we boarded, but when I sat down my worst suspicions were confirmed when a flurry of cockroaches scattered out from around the seat, up the windows, over the ceiling, across the floor, up over the back of the next seat.  There wasn't much we could do but flick them away when they got too close.  Fortunately my memory of a similar experience in Indonesia proved reliable, and once the bus started moving, they all retreated to whence they came and we didn't see another for the rest of the ride.  At least the bus was cheap, only $1.50 for the two hour journey.

We were dropped off along the road by a sign pointing the way to the guesthouse we were headed for, D&D Brewery.  The guy who owns it operates a small brewery, and one of the draws of the place is that thanks to that process, even the water that comes out of the shower and the sinks is purified, so you don't have to worry about keeping your mouth closed while you shower like in most places.  Both of our guidebooks raved about the place, so we were pretty excited to go, although the reality was more sobering.  A note to whomever it is that writes lodging reviews for Lonely Planet in Honduras (you too Rough Guide!): Stop pretending things are so awesome when, in fact, they are not.  Don't get me wrong, overall the place was fine, and I'd even recommend it.  We are even savvy enough travelers not to have had super high expectations, reviews nonetheless.  But still we couldn't help be disappointed.  The food was ok, but expensive. (Why is it that it is always the most expensive restaurants that never INCLUDE the food taxes in their prices, which adds an additional 15%?)  The room was barely adequate, the kind of room where the toilet is next to the bed - I've certainly stayed in worse, but when you are expecting something nice, adequate doesn't cover it.  Every other traveler we talked to was also very disappointed with what they found, most staying less time than they had intended.

On the plus side, there is a nice (but cold!) swimming pool, that was great for cooling off our feet on the first and very hot day we arrived.  The garden setting is lovely, we saw some great birds and a few awesome bugs.  But in the end, the hotel is just a means to an end to get to the lake.  Even if it was the worst hotel in the world (and it isn't), I'd still recommend you come here.  Here's why.

Our first morning we walked through an "Eco-archeological" park nearby, with a boardwalk through some marshland.  We saw lots of birds (and ran into an amusing bunch of Mennonites who were brimming with frustrated excitement because they could hear - but not see - a very elusive bird they had been hunting for months) and walked by some unexcavated ruins.  The weather had cooled significantly from the day before and we had a great time just walking through the woods.

When we returned we ran into a quartet of teachers, three from England and one American who were traveling around teaching English to schoolkids.  We joined up with them and we all headed out to the main draw of the region, Pulhapanzak Falls.  (Don't worry, I couldn't pronounce it either.)  We walked around and enjoyed the view, and once we'd talked the one girl teacher into it, we hired the guide.

Stripped down to our swim trunks and sandals, the guide led us down to the bottom of the falls.  We went through a locked gate, and made our way along a rocky, muddy path along one side of the falls - you can barely see the path in the photo, sorry I don't have more but my camera isn't waterproof!  We were soaked with spray long before we even approached the water.  We reached the first pool, and headed in.  The water was cool but warmer than I'd expected, which was a good thing because after wading through a series of small pools our guide led us right underneath the roaring curtain of water.  The sound was deafening, and we just barely made out our instructions to always look down and breathe through our mouths, as the rush of water made it impossible to inhale otherwise.  We went under and through several times to a couple of different little caverns, and at one point had to get down and wiggle through a small hole on our bellies into a cave that opened up behind the water.  It was exhilarating.  The girl was rather scared about it all (and humorously kept almost losing her bikini in the rush of water) but the guide was great and literally held her hand almost the entire way.  We were just blindly following him through sheets of water with no idea what was on the other side, so it was a good thing he knew where he was going.  With each step you didn't know whether you would sink to your shins in the water or up to your chest, or whether you would step on the bottom or have to balance on the tip of a rock. The strength of the falling water was impressive and humbling.  On the way out we jumped off an overhang into a pool below, which is one of those things that you do knowing how stupid it really is.  I did hit bottom, but comfortably so.

A tour like that could never happen in the States.  There would have to be handrails and insurance and everyone would have to wear life vests and helmets and be hooked to a line.  You really do take your safety in your own hands when you come to countries like this, which can be a little intimidating at times, but also quite liberating.  No one is going to take care of you, or keep you from doing something "for your own good".  There is a certain downside to that too of course, but it also makes you realize what a sterile place the "civilized" world can be.  I think I could spend a lot of evenings talking about and trying to decide exactly what I think about the merits of keeping people safe versus giving the freedom to live as they want to.  Anyway, this was definitely a highlight of our entire trip so far.

The second reason why a stay at D&D is a must, is to meet Malcolm, the resident bird nerd and tour guide.  A self-proclaimed wanderer, he has been traveling away from his native England for most of his life, and does things like travel to the India/Pakistan border by himself just to see a rare kind of bird that lives there.  (He said it was kind of a cross between a chicken and an ostrich, so it does sound intriguing.)  He has been living in Honduras for about three years now, and leads birdwatching tours on the lake.  After making the arrangements over dinner the night before, we met him at 6am along with a local guy who rowed our boat for us.  After a quick snack of fresh papaya at his place, we spent four hours paddling through the marsh and along the edge of the lake.  We saw all sorts of great birds, including hawks, five kinds of herons, and even the keel-billed toucan.  In all he was able to identify 57 species for us, giving us lots of tidbits of trivia along the way.  This was my first bird tour, but we really got into it and had a fantastic time.

From there we were back on the chicken bus up to San Pedro Sula (since we caught the bus mid-route the cockroaches were nowhere to be seen), and then on another "nicer" bus to La Ceiba, which is the jumping off point for catching the ferry over to the Bay Islands.  We stayed at the Banana Republic Hostel, and since we arrived late in the evening the only thing they had available were the dorms.  The beds were surprisingly comfortable, but overall the place was pretty dumpy and the bathrooms were just gross.   We arrived at the same time as a few other people, and we tried to find a neighboring place to go to instead, but turns out it has moved across town, and we didn't feel comfortable walking around in the dark.  The best thing about the place though is just a block away is a fast-food joint called "Super Baleada".  A baleada is a local meal, a tortilla filled with beans and cheese as a base, then you can have them add in egg or different kinds of meats or whatever.  There were two girls standing outside the place who were making the tortillas fresh for each customer.  They were cheap and delicious, and after a day of travel totally hit the spot.

There is a huge bug museum in La Ceiba that we wanted to go to (they have specimins of both the largest moth and the heaviest beetle in the world), so the next morning we got up early and went looking for another place to stay.  The other place we checked - again recommended by both our guide books - was even worse, a huge concrete nightmare over an admittedly nice-smelling bakery, and our walk through town revealed very little of interest.  Both we and the people we had met (a nurse and her husband from Canada and a girl from Liechtenstein) all decided La Ceiba was definitely not worth it.  The couple left for a bus to Trujillo, the girl went to the mountains, and David and I, though a little sad to miss the museum, grabbed the ferry over to Utila.