Saturday, January 19, 2008
Day 61: Juticalpa, Honduras to Ocotal, Nicaragua
When in a foreign country and no one you ask seems to think the road you're looking for exists, what do you do? Go looking for it anyhow, of course. We had one of these experiences this morning trying to head south from Juticalpa. Yesterday we purposefully headed to Juticalpa in order to take this road, which we had seen on two out of three maps we studied, in order to avoid having to navigate through Tegucigalpa. We followed our instincts and just as we headed down a dirt road into the unknown a nice old man on a bicycle assured us that we were headed for "El Plomo" a town that had an important right turn to keep us headed on the right track. Well, while every town we came to had nice green signs informing us of it's name, none of them had the title we were looking for so after 45 minutes or so we pulled over to ask if we were still on the right track. Of course, none of them had heard of "El Plomo" and for at least 10 minutes, none of them had any suggestion besides heading through Tegucigalpa. A crowed of people began to gather and finally a guy who had been there silent the whole time stepped forward and proceeded to tell us exactly what we were looking for: El Plomo was really Bijagual and that if we turned there we would be able to get to Danli, the town where the road from Tegucigalpa meets up with our ellusive route.
It's a good thing we were so persistent: that was one of the best roads we have traveled on. Starting from the flat dusty pature land we had been traversing for the last hour plus, the road headed up into the hill country. Several stream/river corssings (sans bridges), tight switch backs and incredible vistas at every turn led us through the next couple hours of travel.
The border with Nicaragua at Las Manos was trouble free and with both immigration and customs offices all in one place, there was no need to tote border agents around for 60km or make redundant trips to a bank. Apparently this is a border many truckers choose to cross at as there must have been about 100 big rigs parked all along the two lane road heading up to the crossing necessitating some fancy weaving and manuvering on our part in order to make our way through. Nicaragua is the first country on the trip that has required insurance for our motorcycles (Mexico, Guatemala and Honduras didn't even have it as an option, at least for us).
Heading down from the pass which the border was perched on, we entered a whole new temperate zone. I would liken it most to Utah or Colorado with dry low bushes and grasses patched across the steep slopes on either side of our riverside route. We made our way into Ocotal in the fading light searching for an ATM and a place to stay for the night. Without much trouble we founds both although once again discovering that VISA is the preferred card here in Central America.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Day 60: Helen's Hotel, just east of La Ceiba, Honduras to Juticalpa, Honduras
With a new route laid out, we headed away from Helen's at a good clip on smooth pavement twisting along between the coast and the mountain range lying inland no more than a mile. It feels good to be back on the road with the hum of the engine below and the ocean air wafting through the open face of the helmet. We headed first southeast and then west before turning due south on Route 41.
Honduras Route 41 is a wonderful road: not a spot of pavement for 100 miles of twisting mountain road that must have taken us to at least 6000 feet of elevation. For the most part it is a wide smooth surface meandering along lush mountainsides but it doesn't take long for you see why it's been built that way: large boulders block half the road in places where the hillside above the road has given way. At one point we came around a corner to see bulldozder blocking our path, purposefully ploughing the remains of a very recent landslide in such a way as to recreate the road.
The little village of La Union was our lunch stop with a typical meal of fried chicken, red beans, rice, cheese, and tortillas. You know when you walk into a place and they have that jar on the table of some delicacy that they know only a few people will try? Well this was one of those places and the jar was full of hundreds of tiny red, orange and green peppers mixed together with some carrots and onions. Of course I had to try one. So with ample food and beverage standing by to help me get through the next 10 minutes, I nibbled at one of the orange verieties and quickly found that the tip of my tongue no longer had any feeling. With the nice woman who ran the place warning me that they were muy, muy, muy caliente, I chewed up the rest of the pepper and held onto my glass bottled Pepsi as my mouth began to burn. If I could have had a couple of these back on Utila, my sinus issues would have been history in 20 minutes.
Who just rode 80 miles of twisty mountain roads?
The second half of the day had an interesting thing to it: everywhere we happened to stop, there was someone who spoke English, and they were Hondurans, not other travelers.
Honduras Route 41 is a wonderful road: not a spot of pavement for 100 miles of twisting mountain road that must have taken us to at least 6000 feet of elevation. For the most part it is a wide smooth surface meandering along lush mountainsides but it doesn't take long for you see why it's been built that way: large boulders block half the road in places where the hillside above the road has given way. At one point we came around a corner to see bulldozder blocking our path, purposefully ploughing the remains of a very recent landslide in such a way as to recreate the road.
The little village of La Union was our lunch stop with a typical meal of fried chicken, red beans, rice, cheese, and tortillas. You know when you walk into a place and they have that jar on the table of some delicacy that they know only a few people will try? Well this was one of those places and the jar was full of hundreds of tiny red, orange and green peppers mixed together with some carrots and onions. Of course I had to try one. So with ample food and beverage standing by to help me get through the next 10 minutes, I nibbled at one of the orange verieties and quickly found that the tip of my tongue no longer had any feeling. With the nice woman who ran the place warning me that they were muy, muy, muy caliente, I chewed up the rest of the pepper and held onto my glass bottled Pepsi as my mouth began to burn. If I could have had a couple of these back on Utila, my sinus issues would have been history in 20 minutes.
Who just rode 80 miles of twisty mountain roads?
The second half of the day had an interesting thing to it: everywhere we happened to stop, there was someone who spoke English, and they were Hondurans, not other travelers.
Day 59: La Ceiba, Honduras to Helen's Hotel, just east of La Ceiba, Honduras
With our gear somewhat aired out overnight, we packed up and headed out of La Ceiba via the most direct southern route the International Travel Map of Honduras showed. The Dutch guy who runs Amsterdam 2001 warned us that the road was not maintained, but if he knew who he was talking to he would have known that those were the magic words we were looking for; unmaintained mountain roads is what we live for. Or so we thought. After a little more than 30 kilomiters of climbing a twisty dirt road scattered with mountainside villages and beautiful vistas of the surrounding mountains and gushing river below, we found ourselves deadended into a narrow walking path heading steeply up the mountainside and a group a locals telling us it was not possible tocross the mountains on the bikes, only on foot. We figured these guys must know what they were talking about so, with a bit of remorse, we turned around for the mostly unpowered 30+ km back down to La Ceiba. It was all worth it though.
On the way back down we noticed several schools along the way and decided to stop at one of them and unload some dead weight we've been carrying with us since Texas: a bunch of pencils, crayons and small notebooks. We were greeted by the missonaries (a couple from Florida and a guy from Washington) that run the Chirstian school and they agreed to distribute the materials to a school that needed them most.
At the suggestion of the missionaries, we headed east from La Ceiba and stopped for the night at Helen's Hotel and Resturante; a beachside hotel paradise and the most expensive accomadations we've had in a long time: US$30. You can't stay at a place like this for $30 in the US, that's for sure.
Day 58: Utila, Honduras to La Ceiba, Honduras
Last night we saw yet another side of Utila that we had yet to see during our time there: night life. With much of our time in Utila spent diving, preparing to dive or just trying to feel well, we didn't go out in the evenings. But with no obligations for the following morning (except maybe trying to catch the 6:20am ferry), we headed out to a place called Treetanic; a watering hole from another world. Words cannont capture the experience but here's an attempt at a description: the dream of a Californian dude, 8 years of construction, more glasswork than you'll find in any 500 year old church, more than a dozen areas to chill in each with it's own unique elevation and vibe, the swankyest restrooms I have ever seen, and the bar itself in a treehouse 15 feet off the ground.
Needless to say, we did not make it onto the 6:20am ferry. We did however make the 2pm and finally left the Bay Islands behind.
Back at Amsterdam 2001, the backpackers in La Ceiba, we were happy to find our motorcycles right where we left them with all of our gear cases still mounted up. We were a bit surprised to find that 2 weeks of weather had managed to find it's way into our cases and a healthy dose of fuzzys had taken up residence. yummy.
Here's a few from Amsterdam 2001:
Needless to say, we did not make it onto the 6:20am ferry. We did however make the 2pm and finally left the Bay Islands behind.
Back at Amsterdam 2001, the backpackers in La Ceiba, we were happy to find our motorcycles right where we left them with all of our gear cases still mounted up. We were a bit surprised to find that 2 weeks of weather had managed to find it's way into our cases and a healthy dose of fuzzys had taken up residence. yummy.
Here's a few from Amsterdam 2001:
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Day 57: Utila, Honduras
I don't think we've documented our time on Utila very well in pictures. Today I change that.
Today I finished up my advanced diver course with two dives, the first being an underwater photography dive. Here are a few of my favorites:
That's a Green Moray in the center here:
Mr. Perrotfish
The ever-elusive Fairy Baslets
Woah, now that's a fish (ie that's me)
When we arrived back on Utila from today's diving, we had only a few minutes to pull our stuff together, put the diving photos on a cd, pay for my course, and catch the ferry at 2pm. At 1:55 we walked out to the dock only to see the frothing trail behind the ferry which had left a few minutes before. Crap.
As I lay in bed last night, I felt sad that after spending as much time as we have here, I hadn't really seen much of the island. Now with hours to kill and another night on the island I had my chance. I walked clear across the island and back, just me and my camera. The "other side" is quite a contrast to the moped/atv dodging hustle bustle scene on main street.
I returned to the inhabited side of the island just in time to watch the sun sneak below the horizon.
-Colin
Today I finished up my advanced diver course with two dives, the first being an underwater photography dive. Here are a few of my favorites:
That's a Green Moray in the center here:
Mr. Perrotfish
The ever-elusive Fairy Baslets
Woah, now that's a fish (ie that's me)
When we arrived back on Utila from today's diving, we had only a few minutes to pull our stuff together, put the diving photos on a cd, pay for my course, and catch the ferry at 2pm. At 1:55 we walked out to the dock only to see the frothing trail behind the ferry which had left a few minutes before. Crap.
As I lay in bed last night, I felt sad that after spending as much time as we have here, I hadn't really seen much of the island. Now with hours to kill and another night on the island I had my chance. I walked clear across the island and back, just me and my camera. The "other side" is quite a contrast to the moped/atv dodging hustle bustle scene on main street.
I returned to the inhabited side of the island just in time to watch the sun sneak below the horizon.
-Colin
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