Day seven found us docked in Roatán, Honduras. We did not have an excursion planned. We were hoping to head into town, play on one of their fabled beaches, and pick up some lunch.
And walls of people wanting to walk us to tourist destinations, get us a taxi, book us a trip, and be our best friend forever. We kept politely declining the invitations and headed into town to see what we could see. Unfortunately, those trying to sell us their services did not take the hint. They fell into step with us, chatting the whole time, giving us information on the island, and suggesting places where we might want to stop.
I was in front of our group and Michael was pulling up the rear. We both had our own personal tour guide, whether we wanted one or not. Michael was enjoying chatting with his unofficial guide, but my guy was stressing the kids out. He was nice, but the kids and myself just wanted to be left alone to walk around. After I explained my children were getting stressed, he happily made his way off. He just suggested that if we wanted to buy any souvenirs, to please purchase them in town and not at the port. The money spent in town stayed in the community, while they saw very little return from the port stores.
We walked a little further, but did not find any beaches. We learned from our guides they were all on the other side of the island and would require a taxi ride. By then we were all hot and sweaty and discombobulated. We didn't have the time or energy to cross the island.
Instead we stopped at a little roadside restaurant to grab some cold drinks. The menu was in Spanish, as expected, and Michael and I combined our limited Duolingo Spanish to order a few drinks. They had large orange coolers with different flavors of juices, so we ordered one of everything. We got fresh piña, tamarindo, naranja, melón, and límon. We expected they would use the spouts at the bottom of each jug to serve. We were wrong. We watched as they opened the top of each cooler, scooped out a large cup of juice and ice, and served it to us, with the juice still dripping down her hand back into the cooler.
They also had empanadas for a dollar each! So we ordered a few of those as well.
We sat under the fan, ate some food, drank some drinks, and felt much better. And it only cost $19 to feed the whole family! Some of the drinks were really good and some tasted like fruit juice mixed with a couple pounds of sugar. Too sweet, even for us Americans.
Roatán was beautiful, but the poverty was also evident. There were skinny dogs wandering the streets, and Grace was distraught we couldn't adopt them and bring them home. The open trash bins perfumed the town, and each alley was covered in waste and filth, smelling of sewage. But the houses were brightly painted, the people were friendly, and there were fantastic murals everywhere. It was a study in opposites.
We only had time to see a little bit of the city before we started back to the ship. It was so incredibly hot and sticky that us Idaho folks could barely breathe.
On the way back, we did heed my guide's advice and stopped in one or two, or sixteen shops. It was a bit of a shopping blitz. We got conch shells and wall hangings and Christmas decorations and clothes and musical instruments and mahogany bowls and maybe some more vanilla. The people in the shops were lovely and much less pushy than what we had experienced in Mexico.
Unexpected expenses:
- Zero! - We had budgeted for food and souvenirs, so today we didn't go deeper into the hole.
- Total: $1,109 + 0 = $1,109
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