Wednesday was a four cruise ship day on Roatan. I thought I'd snap a photo to let anyone suffering on Isla know you're not alone. The entire stretch of West Bay Beach looked like this yesterday. It shall be called Zooland.
Wednesday is definitely the day we don't go to the beach -- at least this beach. So what do we do on a Wednesday?
We escape to the unknown. (Well, maybe it's not that unknown.)
The road less traveled is sometimes not easy. It's a steep uphill climb, but there's a glimpse of the world you're leaving through a keyhole in the jungle.
As we climb higher, we find ourselves in a rural wonderland with wild flowers and lush tropical vegetation.
Banana anyone? They're as ripe as the simulations we find at the grocery store in the U.S.
Suddenly, we've found our path!
We were never meant to be among the teeming masses jammed between a woman getting a cheap unprofessional massage with baby oil on a beach lounger (seriously?) and some fool smoking one of his fake Cuban cigars.
We've found our own deserted beach.
And there's a beach bar with a waiter named Linton to serve us whatever we desire for lunch!
This . . . is . . . KISMET!
It's our destiny after that long walk over the hill to be served an icy cold SalvaVida (translated = lifesaver)!
Then a Port Royal with a large plate of tasty fish tacos!
And some amazing fresh red snapper fish fingers, fries, and watermelon for Mama. (Yes, that waiter called me Mama, but I've found my Kismet, so he can call me anything he wants!)
It's Wednesday's fate, and we'll probably make the long trudge over the hill again on the next four cruise ship day!
(In full disclosure, one woman did show up during our time and pulled a lounger underneath a palm tree. Taxis can be hired on the other side of the hill to drive customers to Kismet, but we figured the steep hike might help burn off the beer, tacos, and fish fingers!)