Hi All,

I'm sorry for the long silence. Things have been pretty busy here (with leisure activities of course) over the last couple of weeks. Since my last post on what will now be known as the night of the four gifitti shots and countless cocktails we've spent a good deal of time in La Ceiba and took another trip to Roatan.

Spending the extra time here has really had a positive impact on us. We're starting to get past the "visitor" stage and beginning to feel more and more at home. I think what makes the difference is the ordinary days filled with the kind of mundane daily activities that, over the course of a lifetime, make up the bulk of our experience in the world and therefore come to define who we are. Shopping for groceries, getting the car maintained, paying bills, preparing meals, meeting with friends, and everything that we do with barely a thought to it, represent daily life (ourselves excepting the rigors of going to work everyday) for most of the people we share this planet with. The cool thing is that while the daily problems people face in order to survive are pretty much the same everywhere (food, shelter, safety, etc.), the manner in which one goes about addressing these has some slight variations from place to place and these subtle differences are what color our travel experiences.

We've spent a lot of time here with people who have moved here from other countries, as well as with Hondurans who have lived abroad. As you might imagine, a favorite topic of discussion is how to define Honduras (and La Ceiba in particular) and what is it about this place that makes it so special. They're big questions that I won't pretend to be able to tackle, but I will address nonetheless. What we seem to generally agree on is that life is not particularly easy in a place like this. It seems everything has to be a hassle. One would be tempted to think that this would make life here miserable and not very appealing. The paradox is that these very stumbling blocks set in your way keep you alert and hence keep you awake. This in turn instills in people an awareness of themselves and their surroundings that make those little daily joys (sunset over the sea, a breeze and a hammock, etc.) all the more enjoyable. I'm still working on it, but I think it is this juxtaposition of extremes that make Living here so intoxicating.

On our last trip to Roatan we hired a couple of taxis to take us to the eastern, less traveled end of the island. It took lengthy negotiations with the taxi drivers but once the terms were settled, we were able to enjoy a wonderful day. We went to Oak Ridge which is a small fishing village stretched around a protected bay on the south side of the island. Once there and after a couple of cold beers at the local bar, we hired a boat to take us around the area (more negotiations and setting of terms).

We started at the Reef House, a small hotel and bar built right on the shore on this the windward side of the island. The sea was choppy and the reef very close to the shore. As far as we could see, we were the only people around. There didn't appear to be any guests and the place had a solitary, even abandoned, look to it. After swimming around for a bit and soaking in the steady stiff breeze, the owner of the place showed up and opened up the bar. At this point, I had a hard time thinking about what could possibly make for a better way to start a Sunday afternoon. It was a supreme effort to get ourselves away from there. Aside from the hypnotic environmental conditions, there was also the final game of the Copa America that was about to start and factions were starting to form in our group in favor and against staying longer to watch the Brazil v. Argentina match. We did eventually come to our senses and mobilise. Our afternoon included a trip through a salty mangrove marsh and lagoons that once served as hiding places for pirates in the old days of this settlement that always was and still is an isolated corner of the Caribbean.

To cap off the day, we went to a restaurant tucked into the back of the mangrove lagoon reachable by boat only. There, we found the owners preparing, and a full house of patrons anticipating, a lobster and steak feast. Cold beer, good food, good company. Hard to beat.

To me, that day illustrates one of the more appealing aspects of traveling to this part of the world. That is that while the lack of a well developed tourism infrastructure make it difficult to access many places, it is this very difficulty and isolation that keep the vast hordes away and allow you to have a much more authentic experience as an observer. That's Honduras for you. It might not always be pretty or polished, but it is what it is and more often than not, what you get is the real thing.