Honduras: Back on the mainland

Suicide watch following the failed catamaran has since been lifted. My extended stay in Roatan ended up being fine. After spending four hours sulking in the resort lobby, I arranged a stay at a cottage-resort in Sandy Bay. The manager of the first place I stayed at in La Ceiba (the fancy one) had previously worked at this place and earlier had given me the contact information. He happened to be staying there the same night with his girlfriend.

Aside: My first night in La Ceiba, the 3 of us went out to La Casona, a giant discotheque in the Zona Viva where I danced with a Honduran manchild who said he was 25 but looked 19. Just how I like 'em.

Anyway, the 3 of us went out again with the second resort manager and her fiancee, who also works there. The manager is an Argentine lady who was born on Oct. 29, 1985 - wow!!! We had Thai food and wine at a place I'd previously visited, which is set on a dock along the strip of bars and restaurants in West End, the biggest place for going out in Roatan. I'm so trendy.

After a night of listening to weird bug sounds and a scratching gecko thing crawl around in the lampshade, I woke up early to catch the 7 a.m. ferry back to La Ceiba. Manager #2 had arranged for her go-to cab driver to pick me up last night. He was supposed to show at 6, so by the time 6:15 rolled around, I almost started crying. I just wanted to get off that damn island! By 6:20, I stepped out onto the highway and grabbed one off the street, and he zipped me to Coxen Hole right in time. The boat ride was far smoother than the first (the first involved a tropical storm, though). I still wore my sunglasses, but this time I was put upstairs in first class, where there's less movement and U.S. sitcoms in English! Naturally the ferry pulled into the dock before I got to see if the boy who had been kidnapped by his father after his father stabbed his mother managed to escape. Good family stuff.

I'm back to my roots now and staying at a backpacker hostel. This afternoon I took a colectivo cab out to Sambo Creek, where a few bed & breakfasts and restaurants have popped up. I also took a 25-minute walk to a big resort down the beach. On the walk back I was fairly convinced I would die in the beachfront cow pasture. However, I managed to get glasses of ice water from every subsequent place I visited. Technically these places popped up east of Sambo Creek, because I later went into the real Sambo Creek and it's pretty "blah." That's how we describe things in the business. I took a school bus back into La Ceiba and got off at a private hospital, as I had earlier been instructed to find the hole-in-the-wall sushi place across the street. It was tasty, but I think everything in Honduras just melts by virtue of it being so unfathomably hot here. I have a soggy dinner napkin in my pocket that I've been using all day to wipe the dripping sweat off my face. I feel like a 300-pound creepy gringo man who wears unbuttoned Hawaiian print shirts by the pool as he sips scotch and follows local girls with his eyes. Post-sushi I walked home, got lost, it turned dark, I got scared, and then I found the place. It took a few screams of "Bueno!!!" to finally to get someone to open the gate. Now I'm going to wash my underwear in the sink. Hopefully they'll dry by the time I get back from my snorkeling trip to Cayos Cochinos tomorrow, but probably not, since everything here stays damp and humid foreeeeever.