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.

In LCE since last night - STOP
Had a great time - STOP
Working on it again - STOP
Life is good - FULL STOP

In the time since arriving in Utila, I've gotten two dives away to getting my open water certification. It's been pretty brutal with lots of reading, videos, lectures, and early mornings. Steph had the good sense to avoid the hassle and actually enjoy Island life instead of paying someone to wake you up early and put your life at risk. I've been slogging ahead but can barely keep my eyes open (more on nightlife later). As I said, this afternoon are the last two dives for the course. The big issue I have to resolve now is that I have to chose between two fun dives and an adventure dive (this includes more reading and lecture), or $25 off the Advanced Certification. The problem is I have to be on the boat for the dives tomorrow morning at 7am!!! That in Charles language means a big screaming no way. Especially since there's supposed to be a big shindig this afternoon.

As for the island itself, Utila looks and feels different from Roatan in many ways. For one, it's much smaller. There's only the one village that consists of houses along one main road going along the shore and one more that loops around a few hundred meters to the interior. There is still a strong feel of island life which I think is largely due to the strong character of the islanders. Also, the foreigners that come here, while significant in numbers, are more low impact travellers that come here to dive. While this tourism is important here, the town remains functional beyond the tourism sphere of influence.

I would be irresponsible if I didn't mention the food and the nightlife on the island. By far the best thing you could do for yourself is go just about anywhere and have some fresh fish. The grouper, Red Snapper, Kingfish, Tuna, barracuda, and Shark are particular favorites around here. Steph and I had some barracuda we just couldn't get enough of last night. Our nocturnal activities have been centered on the Coco Loco. This is your typical open air bar on a deck over the water where it isn't unusual for folks to - intentionally? accidentally? perhaps enthusiastically? - find themselves leaving the dock for the clear waters below. It should be noted however, that a few meters toward shore on the same deck are the men and women's bathrooms. To be more accurate, the women have a bathroom, gents are instructed to "piss off the deck" as the sign reads. The ladies room provides a little privacy and a platform with a hole and a toilet seat, but the concept remains the same. Tonight we head to the "Bar in the Bush". This is Utila's biggest, loudest, craziest place and as the name suggests, it's located inland away from town so as to relieve the residents of any ancillary nuisances normally associated with proximity to nocturnal centers. It remains to be seen whether or not the 7am dives will materialize.

I hope I can make it because its been fantastic so far. Yesterday we got a massive downpour of stinging rain as we were loading the equipment in the boat. It was looking very nasty and I though we might have to cancel or postpone. We made our way to the dive site anyway and once in the water, everything changed. We had about 80ft visibility with the water at about 81F. We were doing our skills (its more like dogs performing tricks) and then swimming around the reef at close to 40ft before I realized that we were doing it: breathing underwater with the surface far far above.

Hi all,

It's been a bit over a week since my last post and we've had all kinds of activity. We received our second wave of visitors (after the Bourochers) last week Friday and Saturday with the arrival of Emanuelle, Isabelle, and Franck. We spent four awesome days on Roatan's West End and snorkeled and swam to our heart's content. There are several observations on that corner of Honduras that merrit special attention and to which I'd like to turn to next.

The last time Steph and I were in Honduras was in 2000. By then, cruise ships were already making frequent trip to Roatan and you could start to see the signs of things to come. Today´s West End is still a small village, but you defenitely notice the additional hotels, restaurants, and bars that weren't there. There´s is now a road to get to West Bay Beach which was previously accessible only by water. This road has spurred the development of that beach with new hotels and more on the way. While all the current hotels are discretely tucked away behind the beach´s first few rows of palm trees, their presence is nonetheless betrayed by the hordes of tourists that spill out onto the so coveted strip of silica. Most conspicuous of all these - excluding of course the cruise ship day trippers to whom I'll be turning my attention shortly - is the Italian resort that flies in a full 767 each week straight from the Appenine peninsula.

To be fair, I should clarify that the place has not yet been overrun, but you defenitely get the sense that things are moving quickly. There is lots of money going in, and right back out of the island. Lots of construction. Lots of money changing hands. What is going on right now is nothing short of a not-so-subtle land/money grab. Everyone is rushing to catch up with the tourism boom and doing whatever they can to make sure they don't get left behind when their ship comes in (and eventually leaves to the next hot spot). When I say everyone, it should be clear that this does not include the vast majority of the people of the Bay Islands. The poverty is now all the more jarring in light of the oppulence that is being created in their back yards.

As for the aformentioned ships that everyone is waiting to come in, there are currently two per week during what is the low season. By late September this number is expected to baloon anywhere from 12 to 14 per week! The big winners will be the taxi drivers, souvenir shops, and any businesses that can manage to stike a deal with the cruise companies.

Paradoxically, the big loosers in the tourism industry will be the non-alligned hotel owners, restaurants and bars, tour operators, and dive shops. The day trippers (DTs) tend represent everything that the traditional Bay Islands visitors come here to avoid. We've been told that often the DTs haven't a clue of where they are, or what they're doing here. There is no cultural, geographic, or historical context to their trip which, as far as they're concerned, could easily be anywhere in the world with a nice beach and reef.

Roatan markets itself to these folks as an entity sepparate from Honduras that someone named "Port Roatan" (something that does not exist). For all they know, the DTs are somewhere in Mexico and often react with perplexion when there are no burritos or tacos about. The worst part is that the DT's go out smorkeling to the reef and step on the coral, break off pieces to take home, and remove any prety shiny thing they can see. Fortunately they don't go too far onto the reef but stay at its fringes. Nonetheless, the damage is apparent and irreversible.

Last Tuesday, we walked down the Beach from West End to West Bay only to find it choked with wrist band clad, sunburnt, and shopping frenzied DT's. The scene was complete with vendors of all kinds of tacky trinquets and bogus services at shopping mall prices. They came, they took pictures, they pissed all over the reef, and then they left. I thought they'd never leave.

When they did, things went back to normal with surprising ease giving one the impression of having survived a stampede To their credit, they cleaned up the beach after sending the DT's to the buffet on board the ship.

After Roatan, we took the ferry to La Ceiba and spent the last couple of days exploring some of the areas gems. We hiked up the mountains along the Cangrejal River in the Pico Bonito NationalPark guided by local students from the village of Las Mangas. They're part of a project to increase awarenes of the importance of conserving the environment and the rain forest as an improtant resource. The students in the project actually engage the local villagers in demontrations, lectures, and talks aimed at teaching them the value of the ecosystem as a resource that can be used for their bennefit without destroying it. The highlight of the hike was a dip in a natural pool in one of the Cangrejal tributaries.

That night we stayed in the mountains along the river at a lodge run by a German couple that operate tours in the area icluding white water rafting, hiking, biking, horseback riding, and all kinds of other adventure/ecotourism trips. The following day we went kayaking and canoeing in a mangrove lagoon along the shore. We saw some howler monkeys and when we got to the sea shore even tried our hand at kayaking in the surf. I wiped out after my second attempt at riding a wave back in, but Franck did great.

Its been good to be back in La Ceiba and check out the natural and man-made charms it has to offer. Today is a take it easy day to catch up with chores, take care of business, and rest before heading back to the islands again. Tomorrow we take the morning ferry to Utila where Steph and I will be getting our open water diving certificates! I'll try to post once or twice while there before coming back to LCE on Thursday.

Thursday, or little Friday as they (we?) call it in these parts. I'm afraid I haven't been posting as frequently as I would like as I'm sure most of you have noticed. As it turns out, hanging out in the tropics on vacation with nothing to do can be quite time consuming. You'd be surprised to find out how many details you need to tend to on a regular basis. Admittedly, our case is a little different since we're still dealing with issues like arranging receipt of our stuff in France, putting the Jimmy up for sale, getting a phone, etc.

Anyway, we're finally feeling settled into La Ceiba. It's been refreshing to rediscover, to recognize - and to be recognized by - your native town. We've had a series of spectacular days that start off with an intensely blue sky, and clear skies all the way to the mountains that sustain the city's south end. You can look to the south and feel like you're in a mountain town in the middle of a valley and look the other way and see nothing but the caribbean's horizon. By mid afternoon those sights are a memory as the clouds move in and slam against the mountains making the afternoon downpour about as certain as the guys on the corner will be loaded by nightfall.

I have to admit that it is very difficult to write about this place and remain objective. Therefore, I'm forgoing objectivity for the sake of just writing something, anything about what we see, do, experience. As I write I find myself a little more than halfway through my first Salva Vida of the night at what is for all practical purposes our neighborhood bar, the fittingly named Expatriates Bar. One thing you notice about La Ceiba from the instant you first arrive, and every day even if you live here 100 years, is that it is nothing but a mix of all kinds of people and influences that came here for some reason or another, but somehow it all seems to work somehow. I'll be sure to write a little bit more about the history of this corner of the western Caribbean on later posts as I sort it out and learn more and more myself.