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!

 

 

Money doesn't grow on trees . . . .

 

Or maybe it does!

 

Let's just call this a money tree.  Most local bars on West Bay Beach seem to have one, whether the Honduran lempiras are stapled to the ceiling, a post, or stuck to a palm trunk.

 

I know it's puzzling why people would deface a $10 or a $20 bill, but when you realize the Honduran $10 is only worth around 45 cents USD, then you get it.  So that makes the Honduran $20 bill worth around 90 cents, but just round it up to a dollar.

 

I've often made fun of travelers to Isla Mujeres who just can't grasp the peso, so I'm getting my comeuppance here in Honduras.  I realize it's easy for me in Mexico because we always use pesos when we're on the island except for lodging where the price is often based on the US dollar.  Here on Roatan, it's suggested to bring a stash of US dollars because restaurant tabs and a lot of shops are priced in USD.

 

I met my nemesis in the grocery store right off the plane.  I walked around with my money conversion app on my cellphone gasping at the prices.  Almost $8 USD for cream cheese?  Skip it.  $8 USD for that lovely loaf of pumpernickel bread?  Gotta have it, so bite the bullet.  We had the same experience when we traveled to Ambergris Caye, Belize a few years ago, so I was expecting it.

 

We were in a local deli that also has some grocery items yesterday and Craig pointed out a small bag of red licorice.  (The Australian type.)  Yum!  I wanted it!  195 lempiras.  The exact conversion on that would be $8.74 USD.  Stores and restaurants here like to round the conversion to about 20 lempiras to one USD, so that small bag of licorice would be almost 10 USD.  The converter in my head said no way in hell I'm paying $10 USD for a tiny bag of licorice.

 

Hmmmmmm.  Maybe I'll tell Craig that's what I want for Christmas!

 

 

 

 

 

West End Sunset

Last night after hanging out at the house all day in the rain, we caught a boat to West End for a late late lunch  before sunset.  While the restaurant was a bad choice, the sunset was so pretty! As we strolled west down the road, I snapped a progressive sunset collection. 

We topped off the evening with a piece of coconut cream pie from our favorite restaurant to make up for the lousy lunch.  A good justification to indulge!  Unfortunately there are no photos of the pie because it was consumed very quickly.  LOL

Operation Bootcamp

Let me just start by saying we're way up high in the trees.  Really, it's a jungle out there!

We awoke this morning to loud screeching.  What is that sound???  After seeing huge red birds in flight, I googled Roatan birds and realized the noise was coming from scarlet macaws.  Huge parrots!

Listen to this and you'll get the idea. 

After watching macaws in flight and eating breakfast, it was time to explore.  We applied deet to our legs and strapped on our walking sandals.  The gorgeous seaview from our outdoor screened living room comes with a price.  The hike out of here isn't for sissies. 

Evidently, the Sheriff lives right below us.  We heard him arguing with the macaws this morning. Fortunately, we haven't had the pleasure of his acquaintance yet, but he's evidently legendary.

Once we climbed down the steep hill below us and up and down another one, we reached the beach and turned to the left. I figured it'd be an easy stroll along the shore to West Bay after that.  Uh -- not quite.

Craig took the lead.  I wanted to make sure it was structurally solid.

 

 

 At least the view up top was pretty.  (Our casa for the month is up on that hill.)

 

 

The walk to West Bay beach was fairly uneventful after that climb. 

 

 

We walked along the waterfront until we reached Beachers.

 

There we plopped down at a table and ordered a fried whole red snapper and two rum punches.  The downstairs neighbors were strolling by and stopped to join us for awhile.

No frozen basa here!  This fish was seriously delicious!

 

We finally left the bar and walked to the end of the beach to scout out the snorkeling.  

 

 

 

Then it was time to repeat the grueling walk home.  Back down the beach, over the bridge, and back up that damn hill. 

 

Craig's already talking about renting a car.  LOL