Gwyneth asked me to be a guest contributor for this last installment of our trip to Honduras - perhaps the most exciting and terrifying part of our adventure. After our time in Copan, we took a six hour drive to the ferry dock on the coast, you can notice in this picture that along the highway are horse-drawn wagons - a constant stream of this traffic is on the shoulder. We boarded the ferry, and were very excited for our "beach vacation" on the island of Roatan.
We should have been more aware when the attendant on the ferry brought everyone sickness bags. We thought it was funny until Celeste threw up - not in a plastic bag but on my shirt. Then Elise, Jeff and Gwyneth followed suit. Luckily they were able to use the bags. Poor Celeste was sick again during the 1 1/2 hour ferry ride.
The owner of our hotel had arranged a van transport from the ferry to the hotel, or so we thought! Jeff used a taxi driver's cell phone to call the hotel when our van did not appear - our cell phone did not work in Honduras. The hotel owner said not to worry because we should take the taxis and he would talk them down in price. All of the van taxis had left so we had to take two taxis. It was nighttime by then so we couldn't see where we were or where we were going. We decided for safety that we would all ride in one taxi and the luggage would be in another. After 45 minutes through very poor neighborhoods and a long windy dirt road we arrived (Celeste had to vomit again on the windy road). Foster's is the name of the establishment. I asked Jeff in the taxi if the driver knew where he was going because there wasn't a lit sign for Foster's. Jeff assured me that we weren't being kidnapped and held for ransom in not so many words. The only lighting at Foster's was at the bar and a very bright Kleig light on the Casa Grande (our duplex). A very large black man approached us when we got out of the taxis and said "Welcome Back Home!" I was confused, and maybe he was a little drunk or had early dementia, but this was Foster himself giving us a warm Carribean welcome. All I cared about was getting the vomit cleaned up, having some dinner and going to bed. The taxi drivers took our luggage to the Casa Grande, and when I didn't protest they took $40 and left. In the dark the rooms looked ok. Never agree to a hotel room in the dark or on the internet! I soon discovered that there was no hot water with which to wash myself and Celeste. Jeff went to talk to Foster and got back half of our money for the night in cash. Jeff's hutspa would end up saving the day later on, but for now we thought this was our only trouble. Meanwhile I boiled water b/c the Casa Grande comes equipped with a "kitchen."
I was able to wash the baby and I wiped myself with a warm washcloth to get the vomit cleaned off. Jeff went to get food from the bar while I got the girls into their pajamas only to discover that the place was infested with little red ants, and bats were living under the eaves making their incessant screaching and clawing at the windows. With the lights on I could see that every fabric in the place was blackened with mildew. The towels and sheets were threadbare of course. Jeff returned with "food" which we all tried to choke down, Jeff telling the girls firmly that this is the only food we have. I knew it was bad when I looked over at Jeff's plate and his hamburger was only 1/2 eaten. I had brought laundry detergent so I thought I could clean the soiled clothes, including my one bra, with the boiling water. I thought if I turned on the air conditioner at full strength it might dry them out. We finally fell asleep. I woke at 2 am to nurse the baby and discovered a gigantic coackroach in the bathroom. I kept myself from screaming because I've trained myself all these months not to wake up the baby, but I was unable to go back to sleep. I kep thinking of the ants, cockroaches and bats attacking my baby. Luckily I had a good book - Jumpha Lahiri's new one. I read until 3:30 when I saw Jeff's light on upstairs in the loft (oh yes, Elise refused to sleep up with the bats, and Gwyneth refused to sleep in the kitchen/bedroom with the Klieg lights on, so we three slept together and Jeff kept Camille from falling down the loft ladder by sleeping with her - this is a real vacation!). I went upstairs to plead with him again that we just can't stay here. Before the girls went to bed he had reminded me that it is all about attitude - if I have a good attitude then the girls will enjoy themselves...But we really had no way of getting away from Foster's. He had taken our money upfront, we didn't have a phone and there was no main road from which to hail a taxi, nor did we know w/o a phone if another hotel could take us.
At 6 am Jeff decided to make a run for it, what I now call the "Run for Freedom." He figured that if he ran along the beach for a couple of miles that he would hit the main town that has other hotels (I am using the word "hotel" very loosely here - sleeping places for which you pay money would be better). But the beach was interrupted by a mangrove jungle shortly after leaving Foster's. He ran into the jungle, was chased by guard dogs up a chain link fence and finally made it to the main road. He ran along the main road, hilly, curving, and swarming with mosquitoes until he reached the town. At 7 am he found a fellow American at a hotel I had flagged from the tour book. He asked the guy if this place might take us, and the guy (one of the many doctors in Honduras doing pro bono work) said it would work for us with two room suites. The manager came a 7:30, Jeff reserved a place, went on foot to get us breakfast from the town, found a taxi and agreed to have the taxi come back to Foster's to pick us up at 10 am. Now all he had to do was get our money back from Foster.
This proved to be very difficult. Foster was intimidating and a little scarey. I had taken pictures though while Jeff was gone because we had figured that if we needed to file with American Express to stop the charges we would need pictures. I was very
surprised when the sun came up that laundry and a dead RV were our "view."
We threatened to post the pictures on the internet to which Foster returned our money minus the tax in American dollars. The sun came out so we used the little strip of beach until 10 am when the taxi came to rescue us.
I kept all of our important stuff with me in case there was a re
taliation. When we returned to the room to load up I discovered that beneath our room was the laundry facility and a construction zone. A single garden hose was used by many of the workers as a shower area next to the RV. I was so happy that my night in shining armor had saved the day. The Luna Beach Resort had hot water, clean towels and sheets, hammocks, and edible food.
And we could walk to restaurants! We spent the next day and 1/2 enjoying the beach and West Bay, but the rains prevailed so we returned by ferry one day early. This time however we all took dramamine, and no one threw up. We loaded up the vomit clothes and Celeste's blancky into a plastic bag. Needless to say I wore my swimsuit top for the remainder of the trip! (Thank goodness for tankinis!) We checked ourselves back into the Metrotel,our first hotel, and went to a local fast food joint to have balleadas - the Honduran equivalent of been burrito meets French dinner crepe.
The
next morning before our plane to go home the sun finally came out, so we enjoyed the little pool.
I kept saying "who knew that Motel Six could be so great!"
And we could walk to restaurants! We spent the next day and 1/2 enjoying the beach and West Bay, but the rains prevailed so we returned by ferry one day early. This time however we all took dramamine, and no one threw up. We loaded up the vomit clothes and Celeste's blancky into a plastic bag. Needless to say I wore my swimsuit top for the remainder of the trip! (Thank goodness for tankinis!) We checked ourselves back into the Metrotel,our first hotel, and went to a local fast food joint to have balleadas - the Honduran equivalent of been burrito meets French dinner crepe. 
