Roatan: The Sequel

I thought I was finally done blogging after my sporadic nine year term, but I've found additional inspiration after a month in Paradise at the end of 2017.

After a two year absence, the lush island of Roatan with all its rustic funky tropical splendor was calling our names again.

 

We left Phoenix in the dark at 6 a.m. on a Saturday morn in early December.  Right after the doors closed on the plane, we received a text from American Airlines informing us that due to civil unrest related to the recent election in Honduras and a travel advisory issued by the State Department, we could reschedule our flights for no fee.  Talk about timing!  LOL

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.

 

Dinner was early because we'd been informed by the rental agent that the island was possibly under a 6 p.m. curfew issued for the entire country of Honduras due to protests on the mainland.  I use the word possibly because a few days later, we were never able to confirm with locals that the curfew had ever been enforced on the island.  If you've ever been on an island for long you know about jungle drums.  Words pass round the circle like a childhood game of Telephone and truth and rumors merge!

 
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!