It took a few buses and a ferry, but we made it to Roatan Island, off the northern coast of Honduras, late in the afternoon on March 16. By the time we arrived, it was already pretty late and there wasn’t much time for anything but dinner. We went to a pizza place that had wifi and I learned that somebody had been buying women’s fashions with my credit card. With that knowledge, I took out some money for the next few days and cancelled my card. Fortunately, I travel with a spare, so I won’t run out of money but it’s going to be a pain in the ass trying to replace the card while I’m traveling. (By the way, I don't have any pictures of these particular days so I'm just shooting up random photos of the recent past.)
The next morning, there were some people snorkeling and diving, or at least trying to do some of these things. The weather was pretty crappy, though, so I don’t think they got the full experience. I, on the other hand, went to get some breakfast at a place that had wifi and worked on my credit card issues.
After breakfast, I started looking for partners-in-crime. It was St. Patrick’s Day and I wouldn’t have felt right if I had neglected my Irish ancestors by ignoring such a holy day. I ran into some friends and had some lunch and then started looking for the usual suspects. I found them at the dive shop and, lo and behold, there was a bar upstairs of the shop. We went up around 1:00 pm and had a few beers. And a few more. And maybe another one; I don’t remember. Then people from the group came by and were heading to a Thai restaurant that was located across the street. We followed them over there, but the menu wasn’t appealing and the prices were steep so the three of us left and went to a bar a few doors down for some vegetarian nachos and more beer. One of the girls got sick, albeit discreetly, and we left before too long.
Despite traveling with the walking wounded, we decided to stop by another bar on the way home because it was advertising green beer and Cuban cigars for $6. Needless to say, this probably wasn’t a good idea– the sick girl turned into Linda Blair and started vomiting green – but it was good for a memory or two. We went back to the hotel to drop off the sick girl, who had to break into her room so she could get to bed.
After dropping off the sick Australian, my English friend and I decided to head out to a floating bar in which we heard there was some jerk chicken available. We had to take a water taxi to get to it and when we arrived, we learned there was a $30 cover charge. Umm, nevermind. We went back to the island on the same water taxi.
We walked around a little more and found out that much of the group was in a bar next door to the Thai restaurant, performing karaoke. We went in and had some more drinks and it was a lot of fun. I sang Wonderwall with a little group, just for the record.
While all this was going on, my English friend found a jerk chicken salesman. As I write this, I can see the stupidity of what I did, but three of us got into a van with a few salesmen and went for a ride. I tried to keep a close eye on where we were at all times (I always have an escape route in mind) but we ended up stopping at a house about 100 yards from our hotel, so we were in a good place. We had some jerk chicken and then called it a night. All-in-all, it wasn’t as memorable as my traditional Thai Thanksgiving, but I did enjoy my traditional Honduran St. Patty’s Day.
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