Copies.
Trip Start
Oct 20, 2008
1
13
41
Trip End
Feb 28, 2009
Choluteca,
Honduras
Friday, November 7, 2008
Today is a again another beautiful day. We staged ourselves to get across the Honduras border early in the morning. We arrived there at apx 9:30. Our Border "friends" swooped in, again we both resisted. We released our bikes from El Salvador and crossed into Honduras. An older Gentleman, kind and funny who spoke very good English offered to help us through the border. At first I was hesitant but once I further examined the entry point I agreed to hire him. I started the border process for us both while Mike watched the bikes. My friend and I start at one window walk over copy this, walk over to a new window pay that.. get a piece of paper copy this, go to new window get it stamped.. walk over to another window pay more money.. walk over to another window show copies and new paperwork get stamp, walk over to bank pay bank fee and get stamp...Okay i´m beat...and you get the idea. After seeing 21 different people for paperwork, fees, payments,stamps, copies and 3 1/2 hours later I was done. This border crossing was excruciating and I could never have done it alone ! It is hard keeping everything organized for 2 people. Being sure that you do not cross-pollinate my own paperwork with Mike´s. The last thing I need is confusion or paperwork mixed up and throwing Immigracion officials a curve ball. Once I was done, we started to put our riding gear on, my friend never asked for one penny. I looked at Mike, and explained to him if it not for this kind fellow we would still be here tomorrow. We conversed and paid him $20.00. He was very grateful and I thanked him for his help and not pressuring us. I was just about to pull away when a fellow on a KTM pulled up to Immigracion. His machine heavily loaded, I walked up to him and introduced myself, he was from Ecuador.. sweat pouring from his forehead. I introduced him to my border friend and started further dialog when suddenly a border official started yelling at him. He moved his bike the guard still yelling... I shook the man´s hand again and wished him well. As we left the border there were trucks lined up 3 abreast along side the road....several of the drivers have been there so long they have pulled out there hammock´s, strung them up in the shade of the under carriage of their trailer frames and fast asleep. The road was bad from the border, huge potholes, gravel to asphalt and back again. It wreaked of diesel due to all the trucks parked along side the road.
We drove for about 50 kilometers, along the way I noted the homes. There are concrete block homes, cement stuccoed homes and homes made from mud and sticks. I am amazed again at the amount of people outside socializing and kids playing. The country side was pretty boring just long stretches of grassland and super straight roads, not much agriculture. We stopped at a gas station, I needed a caffeine fix after the border crossing, I went in and there were several women working the store. I grabbed my Pepsi and a bottle of water for Mike. I handed them 1 U.S. dollar and some U.S. change. The youngest girl said in straight English we don´t take U.S. change. I went back to the bike to grab my wallet and went back inside to pay with another American dollar bill. I exited the store , the girl who spoke English started to yell something at me. I couldn't hear her very well so I stopped. She walked over to me and said " my sister thinks you are gorgeous and wants to make love to you¨.......................
I instantly turn 30 shades of red, stammering , searching for words I start laughing. I thank her and walk away.
I tell Mike about my little moment and we both have a good chuckle. ( I should have brought my stick) As we enjoy our drinks a police officer walks over to us. He has huge gold fillings in his front teeth, he tries talking to us. We tell him our names and where we are from. He speaks as much English as we do Spanish. We try to converse but no luck. We shake his hand and he walks back over to his speed trap. We both give him a big wave as we leave. Our motorcycles keep attracting more and more attention due to their huge size.
There are a lot of motorcycles in Central America, most are 125 cc´s and a few are 200cc´s.
Men and boys are always asking how big, how many cc´s, from Canada how long to drive. As we attempted to find a motel with secure parking for the night, we stopped at one hotel with a pool full of teenage boys and girls. Mike went in to check on secure parking. While he was gone at least 15 boys swarmed me. Asking a thousand questions in Spanish. One of them spoke English and he translated for the boys. They were in Awe. We decided not to stay there and found another hotel for the night. Our routine after booking ourselves into a room is to discuss the days events with each other over a couple of cold beverages. We decided that due to my patience it was best if I do all border crossings. We went out for a wonderful meal. Mike being a chef wanted to meet the chef.
He was from Costa Rica and spoke excellent English. The chef of course needed to impress a fellow chef and treated us very well.
Comments
creaseless one
Brian already asked if you had brought your stick with you! Hilarious!!