ever experienced, we finally arrived on the small Caribbean island off the northern coast of Honduras called Utila. This is a scuba diver’s haven, boasting some of the best and least expensive diving in the world (you can become PADI certified and get 6 dives for under $200). It’s also the least expensive of the 3 main Bay Islands. Upon stepping off the boat, we were immediately surrounded by at least five different people trying to convince us to stay at their hotel, take their diving courses, go to their party, etc. We finally settled on a little place right on the water, and even with air conditioning, for $20 a night. It is brand new, very clean, with nice chairs right on the deck outside of our room, and it is beyond pleasant sitting out here, watching the sun set over the ocean, and catching the almost constant breeze off the water. One of the first things we learned about Utila is that it is home to many hungry insects. Last time I counted, I had no less than 20 bug bites. Good thing we remembered our malaria pills. The frustrating thing is that bug spray only works on certain types of bugs. The little sand fleas for some reason couldn’t care less if you smell like bad air freshener, so you have to use baby oil for them. Within our first 15 minutes on the island, I was sporting at least 5 very itchy bug bites, so after we dropped our bags in our room, we loaded up on both types of bug shielding to protect ourselves so that we could go out and get some dinner without being eaten, ourselves. I might have gotten a little carried away with the oil, though. As Reade put it, I looked a bit like a glazed donut. Glazed or not, it worked, and I was scrubbing oil off in the shower that night instead of scrubbing bites to relieve the itching.
In the middle of the night, we were both awakened to the loudest rain either of us has ever heard. This rain continued on through the remainder of the night, making
it very hard to sleep, and when we finally surrendered and got up in the morning, the rain was still going strong. And it kept going, all day long. This was no ordinary rain. There is no other way to describe it than to say it was a full on torrential downpour – or as they say here, lloviendo chuzos (raining pitchforks). Sometimes, it was pounding so hard on the tin roof above our heads that we could not even hear each other talk. Just deafening. The weather channel reported that 13 inches of rain had hit our little island in four hours. Over the course of 24 hours, we guessed it rained over 20 inches. The locals said it was much worse than what they experienced from the Category 5 Hurricane Felix. Now that’s a lot of rain. Most of the island closes down when it rains, and that also means a big hiatus on boats coming in or going out. We were literally stranded on an island, and pretty much stuck in our room for 24 hours straight with all of the thunder and lightning, which was so close it literally shook our entire building again and again. We were able to venture out a couple of times to get breakfast and dinner, but Firefighter Reade just simply wouldn’t allow it if there was any hint of lightning. So we got a little stir crazy, and Lisa got good use out of the travel workout her friend Michelle wrote for her. A couple of times. 24 hours in one small space is a long time.
The next morning, the rain had finally let up a bit and we were able to go exploring. Utila is far from the sleepy town of Tela. There’s quite a nightlife
scene here, and quite an assortment of people. Where as we were some of the only white people in Tela, we blend in amongst a sea of tourist faces here. The culture is very laid back; most of the people we have encountered are weed smoking, non-showering, scuba diving, Reggae playing beach bums. This does not include, however, our favorite neighborhood transvestite waiter…tress…ter… well, it’s a he that wants to be a she. We think. And of course, there’s the house just down the road, which we thought was for the resident loonies but after talking to a couple of locals, we found out it´s actually for the crackheads. It´s very sad, really. There’s a transvestite in that group, too. He likes to wear halter tops. Then there’s the guy with one arm that carries around a big, rusty machete with his stump (I wonder how he lost his arm?). And the guy who rides his bicycle with his two giant parrots resting on his shoulders, whom you can see in the picture above. It’s a kind of “anything goes” mantra. It makes people watching a very interesting pastime.Also noteworthy about this place is how different the people are from the rest of Honduras. You can see the effect of the British occupation 60 years ago in that most of the island is English speaking and more white than dark skinned. Most people speak English, Spanish, and a Creole sounding dialect that shows the influence of slavery which used to be prominent in the Bay Islands.
It rained again this morning, and is forecasted to do so every day for the next week. So Reade is going to go diving tomorrow (weather permitting) and then we’re going to continue on to the next place… if the ferry is operating, that is. Who knows? We might be stuck here for a long, long time.
No comments:
Post a Comment