Thoughts of Honduras
Crossing the border from Guatemala to Honduras was both fast and slow. This doesn’t make much sense, so let me explain. On the Guatemalan side it was simple. Within 20-30 minutes we completed all the steps required to get our passports stamped and allow our motorcycles to exit the country.
We then crossed to the Honduran side of the border to start the entry process. The first step was to get passports stamped to allow entry; this was done in 10 minutes or less. Next we went to the office to complete the paperwork that would allow us to bring our motorcycles into Honduras. That was the point where things slowed down considerably. The slowdown was due to a power outage and then an issue they had with the software application they use to track vehicles entering and exiting the country. It would not recognize Omar’s last name. Jenny, who assisted us, worked through her lunch period and overcame these issues. We might still be there if it wasn’t for her perseverance.
The ride from the border went pretty well. The roads were OK for the most part, but had some big potholes in a few sections. The word for potholes in español es paches. That is one Spanish word I have already learned. We made it to Santa Rosa de Copan shortly after sunset in a steady rain and checked into a nice hotel for the evening. Omar then contacted his cousin Diana, who stopped by the coffee shop in the lobby where we had a brew and some lively conversation. Mostly they reminisced, while I listened.
The next day we relocated to Diana’s house, where we met her son Joshua, her sister Zhaby and her mother Rosa Virginia. Diana is an attractive and accomplished woman who is a professor at a local university. During our stay with Diana she took us on a tour of Santa Rosa that included a visit to a Catholic church on the main square and a park that overlooks the city. Diana also made a couple of absolutely delicious meals for us.
The following day we headed to Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras. The road to Tegucigalpa was a great ride. It was on a smooth winding road through the mountains and villages of central Honduras. The view from the road was like something straight out of National Geographic.
Before entering Tegucigalpa, we met another of Omar’s cousins at a roadside restaurant. Carlos Enrique was there with two other members of his Iguanas Motorcycle Club. The restaurant was also frequented by other motorcyclists who introduced themselves and allowed us to take a picture with them. No matter what country we visit, motorcyclists are always instant friends.
The last 20 miles of our ride to Tegucigalpa was a perfect end to the day. It was filled with fast sweeping curves on a modern lightly used highway.
That night we went to dinner with Carlos Enrique and his wife Isela (spelling?). They took us on a tour of their city, of which they are very proud. Tegucigalpa was transforming itself right before our eyes with many significant infrastructure improvements; however, it still retains all the charm you would expect of an old colonial town. A building we visited on our tour was the spectacular Iglecia de la Merced that is located on a hill overlooking the city below.
The next morning Carlos Enrique kindly offered to escort us out of town to the road leading to the border, which we gladly accepted. Before we left we discovered that the original “Angry Bird” was actually living in their house.