It’s with a heavy heart that we rise on Monday morning and head to Fernando's for our final breakfast. And it’s with heavy backpacks, our hammocks strapped to the side, that we climb into the bus that will take us across our next border to Honduras today.
After erupting nearly 10 days prior,El Fuego, the Fire volcano is still puffing smoke into the clear blue sky as we pull away from Antigua and climb through the beautiful Guatemalan mountains. Our driver appears to be a little heavy footed too, as he brakes hard as vehicles pull out in front of us or a road hump ‘suddenly’ appears before a village school. Each time we are thrown forward against the seat in front and we are convinced that it won’t be long before he leaves it just a little too late and we crash. A few hours in and we are on a road hugging the side of mountain staring at the severe drop on the other side of the road, when the driver mentions that he thinks we have a flat tyre and will need to pull over when he has an opportunity. We drive on a couple of miles passing several ‘opportunities’ on our side of the road in the shade of the mountain when he suddenly swerves across oncoming traffic on a blind hairpin bend to a patch of gravel on the opposite side. We can hear the metal of the wheel rim churning up the road and it’s several seconds before we all start breathing again. We clamber out into the searing heat of the sun to inspect the damage. What is left of the tyre is evidence that there had been no tread left on it. Fortunately, and unexpectedly, we do have a spare. Unfortunately, despite all efforts, the driver and several helpers are unsuccessful at loosening the bolts holding the wheel on. We wander off in search of shade while they work out what to do next. A passerby on a scooter stops to offer his help and with his assistance and brute strength eventually the wheel is successfully replaced.
Interestingly, the remainder of the journey is muuuch smoother. Dusk is falling as we arrive in Copan town and head up the steep hill to our accommodation in Calle Real, a lodge set into the hillside. After the heat and exertions of the day, I am hot and sticky and looking forward to a refreshing shower but , just as we’re offloading the luggage, the power goes out in the village. No problem, this is a frequent event in Honduras and I have my trusty head torch to hand. Before long we also have candles in our room and have confirmed that dinner will still be available. Time for a shower beforehand and I'm worried the power outage may affect the water supply. Graciously I suggest that Caroline goes first. While she is in I unpack and quickly undress ready to nip in when she’s finished. I hear the shower sputter and Caroline mutters under her breath. Grr. The water has obviously run out, as I suspected. I start to put my dusty, sweaty clothes back on. No point in putting clean clothes on a sweaty body. Caroline comes out and smiles sweetly when I ask how it was. ‘Lovely, powerful and warm’ she says. I glower back. Powerful and warm have been very elusive in our showers so far. But she can’t contain herself any longer and starts laughing. ‘It’s working perfectly’ she grins. Quick as flash, I’m in there. A shower by candlelight is definitely to be recommended.
Despite the shower and stuffed pancakes for dinner, I’m a bit bleary eyed the next morning. Torrential rain, then an early cockerel, supported by what sounded like a whale in pain meant I didn’t get much sleep. Over breakfast we plan our revenge on the cockerel. The ‘whale in pain’ is apparently a group member, who will remain nameless, but knows who they are! It’s not too far to walk to Copan Ruins, the most southerly Mayan city in Central America, with an estimated population of 25 000 at its peak. Now a World Heritage Site only a quarter of the settlement has been uncovered from the jungle and excavations and restoration continues as funding allows. Most famous on this site is the Hieroglyphic Stairway and Ballcourt in the Acropolis, as shown on the Honduran 1 Lempira note. This site is also a sanctuary for the Scarlet Macaw, a splendid bird with fantastic plumage which can be easily spotted as we wander around the ruins. In the afternoon we have scheduled a horse ride in the mountains. I feel sorry for the skinny little runt that will have to carry me but Don Gallo is insistent that she is strong and used to heavy loads! Like his horses, Don Gallo is small and skinny, but strong as an ox, and every inch a gentleman, concerned for our welfare and comfort as we climb the very steep mountain track to reach his village at the top. While the horses have a well deserved rest from their exertions, Don Gallo gives us a tour of the village, of which he is fiercely proud, supported by dozens of local kids who gather round, keen to promote the straw dolls they have made. He shows us his modest, straw roofed cottage and the vegetable patch with coffee plants in his garden, and offers us a cup of home grown coffee. The views over the valley are spectacular and tucked down a little lane is a small weaving cooperative selling cotton scarves made by the local women. All too soon it’s time to clamber back on the horses and head back down to town before the threatening clouds let loose their deluge. There’s just time for another candlelit shower before we head back into town for nachos at Casa de Todos followed by some very special Rum Punch at the famous Twisted Tanyas.
After erupting nearly 10 days prior,El Fuego, the Fire volcano is still puffing smoke into the clear blue sky as we pull away from Antigua and climb through the beautiful Guatemalan mountains. Our driver appears to be a little heavy footed too, as he brakes hard as vehicles pull out in front of us or a road hump ‘suddenly’ appears before a village school. Each time we are thrown forward against the seat in front and we are convinced that it won’t be long before he leaves it just a little too late and we crash. A few hours in and we are on a road hugging the side of mountain staring at the severe drop on the other side of the road, when the driver mentions that he thinks we have a flat tyre and will need to pull over when he has an opportunity. We drive on a couple of miles passing several ‘opportunities’ on our side of the road in the shade of the mountain when he suddenly swerves across oncoming traffic on a blind hairpin bend to a patch of gravel on the opposite side. We can hear the metal of the wheel rim churning up the road and it’s several seconds before we all start breathing again. We clamber out into the searing heat of the sun to inspect the damage. What is left of the tyre is evidence that there had been no tread left on it. Fortunately, and unexpectedly, we do have a spare. Unfortunately, despite all efforts, the driver and several helpers are unsuccessful at loosening the bolts holding the wheel on. We wander off in search of shade while they work out what to do next. A passerby on a scooter stops to offer his help and with his assistance and brute strength eventually the wheel is successfully replaced.
Interestingly, the remainder of the journey is muuuch smoother. Dusk is falling as we arrive in Copan town and head up the steep hill to our accommodation in Calle Real, a lodge set into the hillside. After the heat and exertions of the day, I am hot and sticky and looking forward to a refreshing shower but , just as we’re offloading the luggage, the power goes out in the village. No problem, this is a frequent event in Honduras and I have my trusty head torch to hand. Before long we also have candles in our room and have confirmed that dinner will still be available. Time for a shower beforehand and I'm worried the power outage may affect the water supply. Graciously I suggest that Caroline goes first. While she is in I unpack and quickly undress ready to nip in when she’s finished. I hear the shower sputter and Caroline mutters under her breath. Grr. The water has obviously run out, as I suspected. I start to put my dusty, sweaty clothes back on. No point in putting clean clothes on a sweaty body. Caroline comes out and smiles sweetly when I ask how it was. ‘Lovely, powerful and warm’ she says. I glower back. Powerful and warm have been very elusive in our showers so far. But she can’t contain herself any longer and starts laughing. ‘It’s working perfectly’ she grins. Quick as flash, I’m in there. A shower by candlelight is definitely to be recommended.
Despite the shower and stuffed pancakes for dinner, I’m a bit bleary eyed the next morning. Torrential rain, then an early cockerel, supported by what sounded like a whale in pain meant I didn’t get much sleep. Over breakfast we plan our revenge on the cockerel. The ‘whale in pain’ is apparently a group member, who will remain nameless, but knows who they are! It’s not too far to walk to Copan Ruins, the most southerly Mayan city in Central America, with an estimated population of 25 000 at its peak. Now a World Heritage Site only a quarter of the settlement has been uncovered from the jungle and excavations and restoration continues as funding allows. Most famous on this site is the Hieroglyphic Stairway and Ballcourt in the Acropolis, as shown on the Honduran 1 Lempira note. This site is also a sanctuary for the Scarlet Macaw, a splendid bird with fantastic plumage which can be easily spotted as we wander around the ruins. In the afternoon we have scheduled a horse ride in the mountains. I feel sorry for the skinny little runt that will have to carry me but Don Gallo is insistent that she is strong and used to heavy loads! Like his horses, Don Gallo is small and skinny, but strong as an ox, and every inch a gentleman, concerned for our welfare and comfort as we climb the very steep mountain track to reach his village at the top. While the horses have a well deserved rest from their exertions, Don Gallo gives us a tour of the village, of which he is fiercely proud, supported by dozens of local kids who gather round, keen to promote the straw dolls they have made. He shows us his modest, straw roofed cottage and the vegetable patch with coffee plants in his garden, and offers us a cup of home grown coffee. The views over the valley are spectacular and tucked down a little lane is a small weaving cooperative selling cotton scarves made by the local women. All too soon it’s time to clamber back on the horses and head back down to town before the threatening clouds let loose their deluge. There’s just time for another candlelit shower before we head back into town for nachos at Casa de Todos followed by some very special Rum Punch at the famous Twisted Tanyas.
Don Gallo (Cock)
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