Thursday, January 29, 2009

The point of no return... Dan Rodgerson









Up to this point in the trip, things were very clear and easy to find. You could turn to a page of a guide book and pretty much find your way. La Cieba was the jumping off point to head deep into the jungle without organized transportation or roads.
Got up early and walked the streets just as the shop owners began to open up and put things on the curbs. The city did not seem as scary as it did the previous night, but it still had guards with machine guns in front of the banks.

I had a rough night sleeping. South America is one of the few places I have heard city sounds as well as a rooster crowing.
A woman in the restaurant the previous night told me that passage to Puerto Lempira would be three days on the deck of a cargo ship, three days!

Kerrie was heading to the Bay islands and was on her way to the port. She suggested that I go with her and check the boats at the dock myself.






At the port we got bread and some coffee and made our way to the bus stop. A taxi driver stopped to offer us a ride because he said there were no buses heading in that direction on Saturday. We did not fall for it, and the bus arrived in two minutes.

After I got Kerrie situated, I gave her a big hug and headed back to the docks. No boats were leaving for the next four days. Discouraged but determined, I checked with another 10 smaller boats with no luck. That meant I would be waiting four days to travel for three days on a cargo ship, then back again.

I was not ready to give up. The guide book said that it was possible to fly there for about $100. I grabbed a cab to the airport and missed the flight by 15 minutes. No other flights until Monday, two days later.

As I sat on the steps of the airport, I cursed and wondered I came all this way! I felt kind of like a member of the Griswald family in “Vacation”. Should I wait two days to fly or wait four days for the ship? There I sat in the middle of remote Honduras: confused, frustrated and discouraged. I had thoughts that things were not really settled in the states. I just had a sickening, hollow feeling. Do I turn back? Push on? The drama and reality of being unemployed settled in. But I had come so far!




Once more, I put out my thumb at the airport with my head hung low and hitched a ride to the bus stop. I landed in a small town outside a city called Tela. I sent an e-mail to a friend to ask her if she could check flights back to the States from a few surrounding cities. It would take me at least 5 days to get back to Cancun.














1 comment:

  1. DADDY!!! why did you go back!!! you should of stayed there and gone on the plane! you should of had joy check yuor call fo job inerveiw! you could of did the phone iner veiw for colorado in honduras! gosh daddy!

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