Last Thursday I took the bus up to San Pedro Sula to meet Dad at the airport. Due to the bus schedule, I had some extra time in “Sula” and decided to go to the artisan’s market that they have there. We used to have one in Ceiba, but the government shut it down with promise to build them a new market in a better part of town….3+ years ago. It was just like the Mexican markets I have been to and I was so happy to be able to purchase some goodies directly from people who made/painted/built the items. I got some cute little things: a tiny nativity set made out of cornhusks, a pair of earrings, and Christmas gifts for all the nieces and nephews (which seems to be a longer list every year J).
I met dad when his flight arrived and we bought bus tickets to head back down to La Ceiba. Our bus was supposed to leave at 5:15pm but in Honduran time that might mean anytime up to 6. Eventually, the man from the ticket counter took us and another lady in his car to the bus station because our bus never showed up. 3 hours later we got to La Ceiba. We took a taxi to our hotel (which I and the director at my school had called to make reservations) only to be told that not only did they not have our reservation, but also they were full for the night and couldn’t accommodate us. Bienvenidos a Honduras!
So, we went across the street to my favorite bar to have a beer while I called other hotels in the area to find an open room. We ended up at a hostel called Banana Republic Guest House for about $13 (we sprang for a private room as opposed to the dorm) a night. It was nice, clean and we even had our own private bathroom! In the morning we got up and got our things together to head to the island of Utila for the weekend.
No one warned me how rough the ferry to the island might be. It was raining that morning (imagine that) and the water was pretty choppy, but the hour long trip proved to be quite a challenge. We later learned that the ferry has earned the affectionate nickname of “Vomit Comet”. Thanks for the forewarning, Ceibaños.
Once on the island we walked on the one main road to find our new hostel and check in. Again, nice, clean and private bathroom for $17 a night—being the big spenders we are, we opted for a room on the second floor. Utila is known as the “backpackers island” and is a great little spot to relax and get away for a little while. There isn’t a whole lot to do over there, especially in the rain. We hung out with some locals, ate some good, fresh seafood and listened to some live music.
On Sunday morning we boarded the early ferry with hopes for a calmer sea earlier in the day. The ride back to Ceiba was incredibly smooth and easy in comparison. This time we were able to stay in our original hotel, where we actually had HOT WATER!!!! It was incredible! We walked around town so Dad could see the lovely (totally joking) city of La Ceiba, watched the ravens game L, and then ordered pizza and ate dinner out on the patio of the hotel.
The next morning I took Dad to the La Ceiba airport and sent him on his way back to the good old, USA. Or so I thought. He ended up having the trip from Hell-but that’s his story to tell, not mine.
It was so great to have him here and definitely gave me something to look forward to while things were getting rough the week before he came. Plus, upon his departure I was able to begin my countdown to coming home. Come on, Saturday!!!
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