Well two days after moving across the continent and definitely before we finished unpacking seemed like the correct time to fly to Honduras. A big plus in Honduras' favor was that they didn't do any covid testing or quarantine type stuff. We're vaccinated and wear masks that actually work while traveling so I think we're fairly safe. It's funny, I would understand if someone's reaction to a global pandemic was to travel less but for me it just underlines the unpredictability of life and pushes me to seize the day even harder than I was seizing before. You never know when a country will get drawn into a war or hit by an asteroid. I myself am immortal so I'm not worried about my existence but I could get like an important appointment from the president in the future that prevented me from travel. You just never know is my point.
George Bush Intercontinental Airport has some giant Clark Kent looking Bush statue on site.
Johnny Walker meets Johnny Flier
I think that mainland Honduras is kind of scary so my solution was to visit a resort island off the northern coast: Roatan.
It was fun to see a Flor de Caña billboard on our way out of the airport. It reminded me of the horrible mission trip we went on to Nicaragua where I was the recipient of dengue fever.
We had our cab driver take us to a supermarket on our way to the hotel to pick up some provisions.
Las Verandas Hotel and Villas at Pristine Bay was pretty nice on the surface but harbored some unsavory secrets we would soon learn the hard way.
A welcome drink is pretty damn good way to set the tone of stay. I've only experienced them a handful of times but it seems like a cheap way to get everyone off on the right foot, especially if there's a bunch of boring paperwork required for check in.
There was a little foot washing station outside the door.
We enjoyed some beers and plantain chips that we scored at the supermarket earlier. I love a good plantain chip.
Our first unfortunate realization came pretty quick. There was a nice pool that I was content with sticking to and there were some people in it. The beach was completely empty. Lydia was probably enticed by the solitude and likes the beach. Fine. So we headed down and lounged.
We were quickly educated on why the beach was deserted. We noticed that we were covered in sand fleas and quickly ran back to the hotel. The bites were worse than mosquitos, bloody and scabby and gross looking.
Lydia isn't a big cat fan and there was one guarding the stairs at night. Spooky dookie omen if you ask me.
Poor Lydia stepped on the next landmine as well. I think I was good just eating the snack junk that we had purchased earlier but she can be very particular about having proper meals at the proper times. Fine. I think I just had a bad feeling about the place because there weren't many other guests, and the some of the people that were there in the pool area gave me a feeling of... locals.. like people that were just there for the day or the family of one of the workers or something. We ended up eating at the hotel restaurant which was pretty much deserted. Red flag! There were ants all over the table that had some important business with the flower vase in the center of the table. Red flag! I ordered a meat dish that I thought would be served hot in order to lower the chance of cooties and then proceeded to avoid the vegetables and sauces that seemed less recently cooked. Poor Lydia ordered the exact same dish as I did but I think actually ate everything on her plate. She would be rewarded for this decision tonight by spending so much time vomiting that she spent the night on the bathroom floor.
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