Chapter 3- The 4 hour ride to Trujillo; the ONLY fear of the trip; We’re finally here
“Up and at ‘em.” My dad used to always say that. This was not difficult today as we’re finally making our way toward Trujillo. First stop, of course, was getting Ottito’s most precious possession out of the shop: his boots!
The 4 hour ride to Trujillo
After that, we started driving: one road, two lanes, on a very sunny day. We stopped just outside of San Pedro Sula for gas, where I gave Mom a present that traveled all the way from Los Angeles:
Chocolate covered cherries; because the good son remembers.
I don’t know what I found more enjoyable: Ottito’s chaotic driving around potholes that, since he had driven this road so many times, he had assuredly memorized…or Ottito’s chaotic driving around the cars he deemed two slow. You see, here in Honduras, you just pass anyone and everyone you want. Cops don’t stop you for being crazy, because all the drivers are crazy…
… or are they?
I developed this theory while in Honduras:
Here in the states, our streets are ruled by an almost authoritarian book of laws. Here’s what you do here, here’s what you do there; no you can’t do that at 4 but it’s ok if you do it after 7 so long as you have 3 people in the car. There’s gridlock, traffic jams and and a seething rage to our daily traffic grind. Examples of accidents, skyrocketing insurance policies, points on licenses are just all too familiar here (and perhaps to the many who are reading this.)
But in Honduras, there is a strange sense of calming presence that completely contradicts the vehicular anarchy. You have people driving on sides of roads: left side-right side…it doesn’t matter (I’m talking shoulders here!). You have people driving slow and people driving with insanity on the brain. The quality of pavement is as inconsistent as most any other country road, perhaps more so. You may call them obstacles or you may call them challenges:
And yet in all of this—and I’m not kidding here—I literally saw ZERO accidents the whole time we were there (well, there was one situation where I think a van went careening off a cliff…but we didn’t see the accident or the aftermath; just a bunch of people staring down below). I also didn’t see anyone getting out of their cars shaking their fist at someone in furious anger. Because, if most laws are either respectfully or certainly willfully ignored by all, then how can you possibly be angry at the 18-wheeler going around to the left of a mini van and heading right for you??? You just move to the right and start giggling. The rules of the game—the etiquette of driving—are so beyond anger that basic life survival becomes much more um, hmmm….prioritized.
Along the way, after a quick stop when no one was yet hungry, we did see the Jesus Bus:
(I wonder if somewhere in a newer version of the new testament, Jesus is retorting, “Yea, cuz that’s how I roll.”)
Finally, when everyone was ready to eat (oh about 2 pm), we stopped at a place Ottito had eaten before.
Under a thatch roofed, open-eating area, we had your typical fare and, I believe we ordered way too much food.
They did have this area in the back, where we found some parrots. Christina whistled at one and he whistled back.
My camera got in for the close up of which he was NOT ready for:
But the best part of this back area was this one chicken.
Not just any chicken, he was a…hmmm, you know what? His pictures will speak volumes:
Yes! He’s not sick! He hasn’t been plucked! Ladies and gents, he’s a featherless chicken!
Well, sure he’s got a few feathers, but the people there told us that’s they way he came out!
Hey look, a chicken playing chicken:
I called his bluff, and he fled the scene:
We continued our travels. At one point, near a pretty big town called La Ceiba, Ottito attempted to avoid traffic and take a short cut past this one bridge that everyone normally takes. However, the other bridge was down for the count due to the storms of the past few days.
So, the only way to get back to the main bridge was to drive down this frontage road right near the water. This road was completely dirt, gravel and bumps. We could only go about 10 miles an hour as we tried to avoid the water pits and general malaise.
To the right of us was an all too obvious reminder of the poverty this country faces:
Left side of this pic, you can see the river we were paralleling as we made our way towards the other bridge:
We got back past the bridge and continued down our road. Mom and Ottito sang old songs, mariachi tinged and sometimes hilarious. You could hear my mom wistfull saying things like, “Wow, I was 16 when I first heard this!” Just wonderful to hear and we soaked it all in.
Down and through the hills we rode…
passing cars, trucks, buses and:
The Only Fear of the Trip
Say, remember how I told you we would periodically get stopped by the Military? Or the Police? We were probably stopped 5 times on this drive. Each time, similar set of circumstances: We stop. They ask where we’re going. We say we’re tourists. Have a great day!
Well, each time except the last time.
This stop, like every other started the same. We pulled up. They waved us over. Ottito rolls his window down. They ask for a ride into town to the station. Ottito says “sure.”
And then it hits him:
He had heard about situations where bandidos (robbers/criminals) were dressing up in military/policia garb and posing as officers in order to rob people. Although he had no serious cause to worry, this one felt different to him because these guys didn’t have a ride back into town nor bicycles that got them out here. So what were they doing here? Were they robbers?
They hopped in the back of Ottito’s truck. The car got silent as he relayed this “possibility.” Ottito’s gun was underneath my seat, and he grabbed it an put it next to the emergency brake.
Just in case.
We drove slowly for a bit and quickly came upon this tiny little pueblo where there were enough people outside to dissuade any obvious attempt to rob, had this been the case.
It was not. The policemen tapped the top of the car when their station came up on the right. We stopped, they jumped out, and we were on our way!!
Well, not before Ottito got out of the car to take a piss!!! Hahahahahahahahahahahaha
We’re almost there!
Now you can see the effect of the recent weather: those aren’t short palm trees. That is water up to the necks of moderately sized Palm trees.
It’s just past 5 PM now, and the sun is quickly setting. The way into town was just east of it, so we first stopped at the airport. Ok, quick caveat: the airport is barely that. It’s a strip of land that, yes, is paved and. that’s. it. I mean nothing else—no radar, tower, nothing!… except these two guys:
Behind the “airport” was a hotel and so we walked up to the water and took a picture;
In the distance you can barely see the town, just 3 minutes away. On the shore, you can see how the rains muddied up the beach.
But most importantly……. We were finally here.
Coming up next: Trujillo, a huge introduction of new family members; the dogs and more tba
