road trip.

We packed the car up early Thursday morning and headed off for the beaches of the Pacific. Timing for Hondurans is a little similar to North Americans – what was supposed to be 7am turned into 7:45am and our two-hour drive was actually a three-and-a-half sweat fest packed into the middle section of the Honduran Cadillac of mini-vans. It was damn near awesome…my dad, mom, two brothers listening to American classic rock.

It was a private beach near Cedona. There were still hundreds of people there and not one wearing a bikini – except, of course, for the ass-white gringa. I got stares from EVERYONE…kids, parents, men, grandparents, children, women, babies. Someone from the local newspaper took my picture (which mi padre told me to look for in Monday’s newspaper).


Other than that, it was perfect. The water was warm and cleaner than Long Beach, which is not saying much but still caught me off guard. I played in that water and tried hard not to swallow any, which didn’t work out the way I had planned but we can talk about that later…

Mi madre packed me a lunch of none other than tortillas, beans, and cheese. Not that I really thought I was going to get Doritos and a sub sandwich, but a girl can dream. Another dream did come true though. As we were leaving mi padre offered me a road soda. Then another, and another… It was remarkable.

church in Amapala

My first birthday out of California is tomorrow. I will be the ripe age of twenty-six. I must now say goodbye to what has been my favourite year thus far and hope this one tops in tenfold. And I think it will. Except for this stomach virus from swallowing salty Honduran seawater.