After a two year absence, the lush island of Roatan with all its rustic funky tropical splendor was calling our names again.
Fortunately, we're not trepidatious travelers, and we already knew about the problems on the mainland. Our decision had been made. Let the adventure begin!
After a brief layover in Dallas with just enough time for the bano and a coffee stop, we boarded the plane for the final leg of our trip to RTB, Roatan's airport located in Coxen Hole. After a short two hours, the plane descended and the lush hillsides and turquoise sea came into view. Soon, we were de-planing down the stairs, dragging carryon's onto the tarmac and into the immigration and customs area.
We waited about a half hour in line to show passports and be fingerprinted. A few minutes later, we were met by our friendly van driver who took us to Eldon's, a grocery store in Coxen Hole. He urged us to stock up and warned food shortages might be a problem if the unrest and blockades in Honduras continued. After loading our groceries into the van, Frankie navigated around the island's many rainy season mudslides and potholes to drop us at our home for the next month, a condo at Keyhole Bay Resort just up the hill from West Bay.
After a flurry of unpacking and loading the fridge (and a little fright after a gecko jumped out of the dishwasher), we headed down the hill on foot to West Bay to our favorite beach club for an early dinner.
We picked a table at the Grand Roatan Ironshore Grill, one of our favorite hangouts in West Bay.
We both were craving Mr. Red Snapper. Salt, the bounty of the sea, and those glorious sunsets would not be denied.
After a glorious early Saturday evening sunset (5:30ish), we hurried back up the hill on foot for a good night's sleep.
To be continued. I promise!