March 14 was yet another early morning as we prepared for yet another border crossing. This time, we were headed to Copan, Honduras.
It took us about four hours to get to the Guatemalan/Honduran border. Once we got there, though, things went about as smoothly as possible. We all handed over our passports to the tour leader, waited about forty-five minutes, and then went on our merry way into Honduras. Copan was only about a 20-minute drive from the border.
We got to the hotel and checked in. It was a short downhill walk to the center of town and we headed in that direction for some lunch. I had a bacon, avocado and cream cheese sandwich that was a little too heavy on the avocado and a little too light on the bacon. Afterwards, a few of us walked around town to scope out a place to watch the next day’s Champions League match between Manchester United and Marseille.
That evening, we went out to dinner at a meat-oriented restaurant. As good as it smelled, I ended up having a steak that was so-so. The most memorable part of the meal turned out to be the heated discussion at the other table between my best friend on the trip and the tour leader. After about five minutes of complete awkwardness, we met up outside and went out for a few drinks. We ended up closing three bars before returning to the hotel, where we had to crawl through a small door in the gate to get in.
The next morning was cultural day in Copan. The most noted site in Copan is an ancient Mayan city. I’ve been going to ruins pretty consistently throughout this trip, but since Copan is the final Mayan ruin site on our trek, I didn’t want to miss it. I had heard great things about Copan, but I was a little disappointed. Perhaps I’m just a little ruined-out, but Copan’s Mayan site struck me as more of the same, just on a smaller scale. Much of it has degenerated and, although restoration is in process, there really hadn’t been enough of it done for the site to intrigue me but so much. Still, I took lots of photos because that’s what I do. (The rest of the photos for this entry are all from the ruins.)
After the ruins, I met up with the usual suspects and we went out to watch the Manchester United/Marseille match. The place at which we wanted to watch the match was closed so we went back to the restaurant at which we had dinner the night before, having remembered that it had a big screen television. As fate would have it, we ended up watching the match between Inter Milan and Bayern Munich. (Go Inter!!!) Also, as fate would have it, happy hour started at 2:00 pm, so we nibbled at some food and went through, oh I don’t know, six or seven bottles of wine. I figured we had drank too many when one of the girls with me and I started harmonizing to the CCR CD that was playing in the background. Good times, good times.
As we were walking back to the hotel, there were some musicians playing on one of the corners of the main square. I took my English friend home, once again crawling through the small door in the gate, and then went back to find my other friend. When I got back to where I left her, however, she had disappeared. It only took a few minutes to find her and, after speaking for a while with a drunk manicurist, we returned to the hotel. This time, however, even the small door was locked. My friend decided to scale the 12-foot high fence to get in. Just as she reached the summit, a guy from the hotel came out, yelling “No, no, no!!!” By this time, obviously, it was too late. My friend climbed down and the guy from the hotel unlocked the gate for me. Another fitting end to an evening of alcohol and merriment. The next day, we headed to Roatan Island, where I’ll pick up in the next installment.
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