Santa Rosa De Copan - Dan Rodgerson

This is how the nachos are served. There is a small fire burning on the bottom

This is a mid-scale hotel shower. Notice the exposed wires. Electricity, water and being naked do not really mix well

Having been lost the previous day, I made sure I always knew where I was. Got a room with a nice family and read about nice rooftop restaurant above a hotel a few blocks away. Very cool little town. I nested on the top floor, found a wireless internet connection and spent a few hours returning e-mails and checking on things at home. In the hotel were two groups. The first was a group of Canadian college students who were there working with habitat for humanity for a week and a Christian Baptist group. The groups were east to tell apart. College kids were there to party.


It was valentines day and kinda sucked to be alone. While at the rooftop restaurant in stumbled a group from the college. We talked and laughed a bit and a few of them checked e-mail on my computer while the drinks began to disappear. They did not master the idea of drinking BEFORE you go out. In tourist areas, drinks can be about $2 each. That was a lot. Warned the blonde girls that they needed to be careful.

It was actually nice to find people who were there for less time than I was. Literally, I came into contact with about 100 people traveling and most were out for between 6 months to a year.

Crashed pretty early. Last full day in the country tomorrow :(


You know you are traveling in Central America when…

1. A hotel for $17 looks expensive
2. You are smelling a three day old shirt thinking, can I get a fourth day out of it?
3. Your new cologne is “deep woods off”
4. Random kids come up to you almost daily and say “one two three four five”
5. You get to a hotel that is full, and you actually ask around if anyone is willing to share
6. You become accustomed to it taking three hours to travel 60 miles in a rural bus.
7. Seeing a full set of teeth is like seeing a lunar eclipse
8. It is common that most 15 year olds are working on their second kid
9. Locals will call relatives living in the states and hand the phone to you. Like you want to talk with them.
10. You are quoted an average of 40% higher than locals on most items.
11. You get on a bus and people stare at you like you are a Martian.

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Bobble head jesus - Dan Rodgerson

This is one of the sweetest dashboards ever. two fans, disco lights, lcd player, radio, clock

I am so getting one of these

mountains outside la esperanza

Bobble head Jesus
Woke the next morning and headed toward the bus around 7. As I was asking a local were the bus station was, I heard a voice in perfect English “where are you going” It was actually refreshing. Jessica was a peace core volunteer nearing the end of her two year commitment. I noticed two things. She spoke very well in Spanish and she had bad teeth. We found the bus stop and realized it was Saturday and the bus did not leave for another hour and a half. Nothing was open, did not want to wait. Told here I was heading to the edge of town to try and catch a ride. She joined me.

Second car picked us up. Great guy with three sons who are doctors. (well one is still in his residency) It was perfect. Jessica found out the guy was actually heading to Tegucigalpa, would have been a four hour bus ride and she scored. Mine was just an hour where they dropped me at the turn off to la esperanza. That is where I got on the Jesus bus. I climbed aboard and there were about 6 pictures of Jesus. On the windshield was printed “Jesus is love” On the receipt was printed, we work in the name of Jesus. On the radio was Christian rock. On the dashboard…..you guessed it. A bobble head jesus.

I admit this next part is really stupid and considered not showing my stupidity, but it is a real life travel blog. Got into town, walked through a market. Although this was the highest town in the country it was hot and my bag was heavy. I asked a lady in a small bread store to watch my bag. That was not the stupid part. I made two mental notes. It was in front of an open air market and there was construction. I wandered. I am the only eagle scout who can get lost going around the block with a map and a compass. After a nice lunch and an hour of discovering the town I went back for my bag. Where was that store? Apparently the entire town was under construction and there were four open air markets that all looked the same. Panic began to set in. My guide book, passport, everything was inside.

I raced frantically though the streets like a mother who has lost her child at the mall. It all looked familiar but I could not find the store. I got a cab and told him my story. Once again, my drama became his mission. We re-traced steps from there the bus dropped me off, after a few minutes I was reunited with my pack. Not sure if I mentioned it before but I love my pack.
Feeling stupid I made my way back to the bus, put my pack on top and sat down waiting for the bus to leave. I asked the lady sitting next to me when it was going to leave. “an hour and a half” Grabbed my pack and headed to the edge of town. Thumb out, first car. Nice guy. An hour and a half later arrived in a small town called San Juan. Same dance, bus was not for an hours, thumb out and got a ride in the back of a pick-up but he was only going half way. Got another ride and made it to the small town of Gracias. Thought about staying but it seemed kinda stale and I really wanted to explore some ruins before I left. Took another bus another hour and a half to Santa Rosa de Copan.

I have been slowly throwing things away out of my bag to make room for things to bring home. With only a day and a half left, need to start grabbing them.

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The interview - Dan Rodgerson

I found a hotel in a small town near a beautiful lake. It was pretty mellow.

The days of switching busses and trekking though towns were pretty fun. There were a few stretches where I was too impatient to wait for the bus, so I hitched. I have put out the thumb about a half dozen times, and either the first or second car has picked me up. I guess I look pretty unintimidating. I cheat a little. As roads enter the small towns they have speed bumps. If you wait at the speed bumps, the folks have already slowed down so it’s easier to get a ride. Four of the people who picked me up either studied English or had visited the states.

When I found myself short on cash, I realized ATM’s are far and few between in this area. I needed to change my plans and make a side trip for cash in the other direction. It was about a three hour, $8 mistake. I figured would jump a bus, hit an ATM, and head back to Pena Blanca. I had three hours to make the round trip voyage before my phone interview with the city of Lindon.

On my way back, I took a mini-van during part of the voyage. The mini-van full of 22 people stopped on the side of the road. The driver motioned me to get out and said, “Santa Barbara is about 60 kilometers that way.” I was in the middle of nowhere. 60 kilometers is about 30 miles, and I had forty minutes to get there. I was screwed. Not only was I forty minutes away, but I needed to wait for a bus and find an internet café to call from. (Internet cafes usually allow international calls for about 15 cents a minutes.) I began to sweat.

After the first two cars passed, I put out my thump coupled with the international sign/prayer for please. The next car stopped. I explained my situation, and my drama quickly became his mission. We jammed down the winding mountain roads to Santa Barbara, and he dropped me in front of an internet café which was run by his cousin.

As I got out of the car, I saw an ATM out of the corner of my eye. The entire three hour trip was not even necessary! I had three minutes to gather my sweaty, dirty, frazzled self together.

I don’t think it was a coincidence that guy passed at that time and that he had a cousin who managed an internet café.

I think I did well on the interview and actually think they enjoyed the fact I was in Honduras. I fielded the normal interview questions and inserted a little joke here and there—will cross my fingers. They are installing a quarter of a million dollar simulated surfing machine. That would be pretty cool to manage.

Who would have thought that I could pick up a wireless internet signal in the middle of Honduras???

I met a cool couple from Australia today on the bus and bumped into a pair of girls from Europe that I had bumped into three times before. When you use the same guide book, you usually end up in the same hostels, restaurants, and attractions as some of the same people.

I went to an amazing waterfall today. I was there pretty early and shared the view with a couple from Orlando. They were with a guide. Guides don’t like solo travelers, because if it were not for the language barrier their entire job can be relapsed by a simple $10 travel book: $6 on e-bay.

Tomorrow I will get up early and visit one of the poorest and highest in elevation places in the country. Hopefully, I will get some handicrafts for my girls and see more of the countryside. It is strikingly beautiful here.

I received an e-mail from a cousin who was seriously considering joining me. I have been a bit disconnected from him, but I think we would mess well. I would love a running buddy.

Kerrie, the Canadian, once said that the places you love while traveling are a combination of beautiful, amazing places coupled with the people you meet there. I can’t agree more.

If anyone is actually reading this, leave a comment or let me know.

Dan Rodgerson

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Road back to civilization - Dan Rodgerson

12 people in the back of a pick up truck

my buddy...

The morning I left

Hugs and thanks to Norma and her family.

The same trip in reverse. 4 am. 12 people three rows of four in the back of a truck. This time was a bit different because it was cold and rainy.

The woman’s group of the town gave me a Honduras shirt so I would not forget them.

When I got to Puerto Lempira, the first thing I wanted and needed was bread. I wandered down to the port, no boats. Found my way to the airport. No flights until the following day. I had a day to kill.


La moskitia felt a little like gilligans island just without maryann and ginger. Well, also without the ocean or the professor making contraptions out of coconuts. On second thought, it was nothing like gilligans island.

Took a shower, got a hot meal. Took the lap top to the restaurant. A sales rep from cannon was having dinner with a client. It seemed awkward. They saw that I was alone and asked me to join them. The awkward couple were my entertainment for the night. Dinner and few beers and some colorful conversation.

As I walked through town, I felt like Jason Bourne.

The next morning I made my way to the airport. Terrified I boarded the plane and took my same seat as before. As the pilots started the engine, a man stood up and wanted to pray. I thought great, anything that may help! The direct translation of a phrase of his prayer was “we pray that we do not get destroyed in the air” I thought….the air? What about the ground! I bit my toungue and did not interrupt. I figured god knew what he meant and that he understands Spanish.

A few people in the jungle jokingly said that God did not understand the language and prayers of moskito. This is why their lives were so difficult. I told them I would relay the message. The prayer on the plane really should have had a calming effect but It actually made thing worse.

I warned the guy next to me that I did not like to fly. He said nobody likes to fly. He did not want to talk. Bumpy flight but arrived in la cieba in one piece. I got out of the airport in a hurry, like the airport was on fire.

Back to chicken busses, and my guide book. Three things I want to do before I leave. visit ruins, a waterfall and climb a volcano. Problem is, I learned from the colorful couple, there were no volcanoes in Honduras. They did however tell me about some caves on the way to la esparanza.

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poverty - Dan Rodgerson

Today we worked on a conservation grant from one of the local beer companies. I am also trying to do an analysis on the half-built water system. Everything takes money, but in my experience public utilities are most often secured through debt or municipal bonds. The big question is whether the local people would be willing to pay a nominal fee for something they have gotten for free for decades? We looked at the cost to finish the project, the logistics of installation, and whether the remainder of the money could be financed and paid back through user fees. The next step is to determine whether the locals “value” the idea and how much they will or can pay for that service.

What was interesting is when I asked one of the older ladies how she would like water brought to her home rather than carrying a 5 gallon bucket on her head, she said, “It is one of our traditions.” I can now see the challenge of development while attempting to preserve the local indigenous cultures and traditions at the same time.

While I was riding in the canoe, one of the local boys asked me if things were better in the United States. I had to stop and think about that before I answered. Better? Life is easier, but I am not sure that it is better. Are white collar workers more happy and healthy than blue collar workers? I simply responded, “Life is much different there, not necessarily better.”

When I got here my first impression was that things are really not that bad. Have I become so calloused as to think that no power, no water, and sleeping on dirt floors is not that bad? As I made my way here, I had to spend some time in larger cities such as Cieba and San Pedro Sula. I saw things there that turned my stomach. Here, there are not children living in the streets, digging though trash trying to find food. Families do not turn dumpsters on their side for shelter. There are no abandoned children in orphanages, and nobody is dying of preventable diseases.

I did a paper in college regarding development and democracy in third world countries. One thing I remember vividly is that there is not magic wand, no ONE thing that can cure everything and make life better. Poverty, tragedy, obstacles, or challenges are accepted life experiences here. This could be the disintegration of the family, government corruption, lack of education, lack of a belief, lack of hope, or some type of chemical dependence. Fighting the battle can be like “whack a mole”, a variety of issues popping up all around you. I guess it is easy to shrug your shoulders and say, “What can I do?”

Everyone here has the dream of coming to America. This past summer I employed 16 Mexican men to work at our golf course and parks. They came to live the dream. They left their families and worked for about $12 per hour. After Uncle Sam took his share, their paychecks were needed to pay housing and transportation. I am not sure it was much of a dream. I don’t think the answer is “Come to America”. Hell, we have poverty here as well.

I hate to sound like some bleeding heart poverty cheerleader, but I really think that everyone can do something. It became obvious that I was not very good at hauling water, grinding rice, or really anything labor intensive; but I can find money and hopefully channel some in this direction.

It is raining here again. Rain can start and stop like someone turning on and off a faucet.

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Some pics - Dan Rodgerson

Separating the rice from the shells

smashing the rice

A few young girls grinding the beans

A snack of come coconut

Pigs by the river

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Time Machine - Dan Rodgerson

Many people have tried to create a time machine. This is an easy way to go back a hundred years. There are about 2000 people in mocoron and three houses have power. Norma has a solar system on her compound and the other two are diesel generators. Nobody including Norma has running water. Each morning, the woman of the tribe head to the river to carry water on their head back to their homes. I tried it and it is not easy.






Norma is a master fund raiser and has done amazing things for this small community From her efforts they have built a small medical clinic a church, two school and important bridge and a community building that I am sleeping in. She has been trying to gauge how I can help and we are both not so sure. She is really fixated on making sure the people can be self sufficient and not just giving them things. If any school church group or club has any interest in helping there are hundreds of needs. A group of single mothers have banned together and live together and they and desperately looking for things like sewing machines or materials so they can make and sell bread.


They wanted me to bring a message back to the states that there are many strong women here looking for men. Seriously.
Life is simple the livestock nearly live with the families and the weekly soccer game I the highlight for entertainment. Normas asked to day if I knew anyone who had a series of age appropriate bible stories with pictures and activities for children that she can give to the local churches.
They are treating me like some dignitary and it kinda feels weird.
I needed to go to the river to bathe before church. I had a long shirt and some jeans. I went to church today and the church was in worse shape than most stables in the states. Here they do not speak Spanish regularity but most understand it. In la moskitia, there are four different tribal languages. At church, the preacher saw me come in and gave bits and pieces of the sermon in Spanish so I would understand.
Have met many people very timid at first but warm up quickly. The diet is rice and beans. I have been here for two days and already looking for something else. Want to catch fish to eat and I am not really fond of fish but it sounds good at this point.
In regards to the town, I am staying in the Hilton. Nice bed with a mosquito net. There were a few holes in my net and I got tagged several times. I got my sheet our from my pack and wraped myself in it with a small hole to breathe. Normas step daughters who is 14 helped me install another net today. I asked for some tape or needle and tread so I could sew up my net. She disappeared and came back with another one that had no holes. After we installed it, I learned it was the one from her bed.
When chloe got her new ipod for Christmas, I told her that santa needed her old one to work out and ski with. I have been traveling with this old ipiod and gave it to Anna. She acted as if I had given her a vehicle or something. She is a sweetheart and looking to come and study in the states. So mom, if you have a room available, I think it would be a great experience for everyone.
After church the town gathered for a meal. The idea is that people donate food and your buy it to help the church. Norma made me a plate with rice some weird patato and armadillo. (cost was thirty cents) The armadillo was actually pretty good but I could not get over the hoof on my plate. I took a few bites and a local dog got real lucky.
When a cow or pig gets killed for food, the don’t have regrigerators to keep the meat cool, so it all needs to get eaten within 48 hours. They announce throughout town when then plan to butcher so hopefully they can sell the remainder. Rumor is there is one going down today. I would pay about $100 for a fat ass steak right now.

The river is the lifeblood of the town. The drink from it, fish from it, wash in it, and it is the primary mode of transportation. Oh I forgot they play it in.
I spent several hours just walking the streets and talking to the locals. The are humble. I almost lost sight of the purpose of my trip. Aubin helped me put that back into perspective.
There is only very slow internet connection that a group from texas came and installed. I was showing a few of the locals pictures of my daughters and on my face book was a few pictures of them ice skating. They have never seen that before. I needed to explain how to freeze water, put knives on your feet and skate around. Sounded kinda stupid. They are amused by the most simple things like taking a picture of them on a digital camera and looking at themselves.
Since most do not have power, the nights are lit by candles or simply going to bed early. I have been in bed by 730 the past few nights.
It rains a lot here. When it is raining outside, everything inside gets moist and damp. If it continues to rain, the roads here will be worse and I may have to wait a few days for the road to dry before I can leave.
The sounds of the jungle are unique and hard to explain. Hundreds of unique birds, howls in the background, coupled with the sounds of lifestock, rain, the river and of course the kids playing.
It is 7:30 now and it is raining. The woman are bringing water from the creek and the fires are burning for breakfast. Let me guess….beans and tortillas. The first thing you need to do when you wake is put on insect repellant.
I noticed bat poop in my room when I first got here. It was the same that we used to see in whaley lake when we were kids. Brooklyn, a friend of the family found the source of the poop. Should not kill bats he says because they eat the mosquitoes. He laughed when I said we need to make sure they don’t eat the Moskitos.

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Going deeper - Dan Rodgerson

Hollowed out wooden canoes.

The road to Mocoron

Plane landed safely. The mountains and jungles were beautiful but it was hard to enjoy them being terrified.

Got into Puerto Lempira and I am always suspicious of new friends but these guys were legit. They were from Mocoron and wanted to make sure I made it safely.

Got a bite to eat and the parrot in the photo was just wandering the floor of the cafe.

I figured that I would be there for a few hours and drank nearly a half gallon of water. The truck pulled up ready to take me 80 miles deep into the jungle. There were 11 people in the truck. They built three rows of benches in the back of a truck. The road was very rough and washed out in several places.

Many of you will not believe this next part but every word is true.

About an hour into the trip I had to pee so bad! That half gallon of water coupled with the bumpy roads was literally painful. I could not ask he driver to stop the truck.

I thought....I have a water bottle in my bag. I lasted another half hour in pain and cramped up then discreetly pulled the water bottle from my bag. I placed my thermal shirt on my lap and went the southern way out of my pants. I looked around one last time, scratched my head with one hand as a diversion and Nealy filled the entire water bottle. Then I was left with another problem. What to do with a bottle of urine? I put on the cap and slid it between the seats. Would they think it was lemonade? Gatorade?

The truck finally got stuck in the mud. We needed to get out and push. I slid the bottle under the truck and we rolled away. So I have a bottle of my urine in a bottle on a back road of the jungle in an altitude cycle bottle. Sorry troy.

After about 4 hours I was told we were half way there.

Look close, you may see the bottle

This is another shot of the airport. I will look for a cargo ship on my way back

This is the truck we rode in the back of...in the rain...at 5 miles per hour....for 60 miles.

The bird from the cafe

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deja vu - Dan Rodgerson

I went back to the States, scheduled a few interviews, dealt with a dead-beat renter, and moved some money around before heading back.

My mother called and asked, “What is going on?” I told her that I was doing well, going to have dinner with my girls, and heading back to Honduras on a red eye flight. Silence. Then my mother could not contain herself, "What in the hell are you going back for?" I told her that I did not do what I went there to do, and I wanted to go back. “Well, all right.” The emphasis was on the last syllable, and only my brothers would understand that affirmative response riddled with the disapproval.
Although my last trip was amazing, I feel it was not complete. My goal has been to try to turn a crummy situation into something positive. I am excited about going to a place where not many white men have gone, and I am not talking about West Valley or downtown Bridgeport.

I packed a bit differently. I already left my new sunglasses at my brother’s house. I grabbed Joy’s laptop, because hers was a bit smaller and lighter. I feel I will regret that promise….if I break it, I will replace it.

I hate to fly, and I can't imagine that the plane from Costa Rica to San Pedro Sula will be very big. It might be a rough afternoon.
It was a rough flight, as anticipated. Red eye and I think the pilot was looking for rough air to stay awake. The lady seated behind me kept practicing her kick boxing on the back of my seat.












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punta to la cieba - Dan Rodgerson

I headed into town the next morning past dilapidated houses and shacks thinking that my tree fort that I built when I was ten was more structurally sound than most of these houses. I ate a quick breakfast: sausage, two eggs, and of course....tortillas with every meal.

I started the day as a solo traveler. When I got to the dock, I booked passage. Fifteen minutes later I met Kerri, a Canadian. She had been traveling with her boyfriend and this was the first day she was flying solo. She was a pretty girl, and you could tell that she came from money. I think she liked the security of having someone else there. We had a border crossing that day. We bumped into a two-pack from Switzerland: good looking younger couple and a father/daughter team from Pennsylvania. We were now six.

We wandered together though the fish market.

The boat ride was very cool. We put head phones on and watched as the mountains of Honduras become more visible.

Border crossings are nerve racking! My first crossing was into Belize. The guy at the Mexico border would not let me out because I had "bad documents". He said it louder and louder and smiled knowingly at the bus driver. He originally suggested a bribe of fifty dollars, but I was able to get though by slipping him a twenty.

Once into Belize they said I could not enter because my passport was not signed. He was looking for a gift (bribe) as well. I got out of the line, signed the passport, went to another border guy, and got in.

I got off the boat thinking we were in Honduras, but actually we were in Guatemala. My new friends must have thought I was an idiot. I spoke the language at last, so (although my directional skills were off) I was still handy to have around.

We changed our money for the local currency and walked into town. Kerrie was very concerned and made it her personal mission to make sure that she was not charged more than the locals. Any time she asked for price, she would reply "too much." I would translate...."demasiado". I would just shake my head and let her be the bitch, as if she wore the pants in our relationship. As if there was a relationship. It worked. We were a good team.

We caught a ride with 14 people in a minivan which weaved in and out of crowded streets heading for the border. Everyone starred at us, but mostly the two foreign blonds. We lost the two Europeans along the way, and our pack of six became four. The two from the states were traveling hippies, the cool kind who started their journey at the Rainbow Gathering in Southern California. They were dirty and smelled foul. They slept on the beach most nights, and their 15 year old daughter walked bare foot though the crowded border town.

It was a long bus ride but good conversation into San Pedro Sula. We switched buses, lost the dirty Americans, and settled in for another few hours in the bus. I sat with a nun and two Amish guys. It was just Kerri and me now.

We arrived in the rough city of La Cieba. We got a taxi after Kerrie did her normal routine...."too much." We found a room above a bakery but did not ask the critical question....hot water? We had cold showers that night. We found an internet lab, had tacos, and began to strike up conversations with the locals about the next part of the journey.

Kerri read a book and crashed early. I walked around a bit. I moved my wallet into my front pocket and kept a close eye on what and who was behind me. I did not feel comfortable. We went back to where I had dinner and three of the waiters came up to me and eagerly asked....la rubia (the blonde)? I said we were just traveling together....not "together". One sighed and said, “Que lastima....(what a shame).”



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Cay caulker - Dan Rodgerson

I got up early in Belize City and walked around for an hour or so. I took some pictures: real rough place to live.

The two guys I was running with convinced me to go with them to Cay Caulker, a tiny island off the coast. I figured that since I had spent two days straight in a bus I needed to do something fun. I planned to leave that night and try to make it to a few more cities. I felt that my mission of going to Moskitia was getting in the way of my adventure. I went to the island with them, and it was truly amazing: an absolute tropical paradise. We had breakfast and looked around....great company, great setting. I am staying!

Booked a snorkel trip for $17 and swam with rays, turtles, sharks, etc. There was plenty of sun. After snorkeling, I came back, drank a few rum punches at the local hut, and began to think about dinner. I paid $15 for three drinks, lobster, rice, beans, and desert. I think we overpaid.

I really had a fun night with those two clowns; they were always looking for the party. The party crowd was young so I blew in and out, spending some time on a hammock. We laughed and drank too much. I could not get into too much trouble. I found a guy to make us hamburgers at 2am and stumbled home. My new friends were totally amazing. Jimmy was a carpenter, more quiet and smoked discreetly. Martin was the clown, easy to smile, looking for adventure, and wanted to throw a few back and talk about it. We shared a room, lots of drinks, and many laughs.


After getting back to the mainland I shared a cab with two girls from Switzerland. We knew that we were heading in different directions at the bus terminal, so we did not spend the time to get to know each other. They were young and brave. One was incredibly beautiful, but did everything she knew how to hide it. She had her hair pulled into her hat and wore baggy clothes. I would love for my daughters to do that!



I got up early the next morning, hugged the boys goodbye, and set out for Belize City. I caught a bus heading to southern Belize. I fell asleep on the bus and woke up in a tropical jungle with huge mountains. It looked like the place they filmed “King Kong”. As I headed more south, the landscape changed, and the people became darker. I had planed to go to Placencia, but like everything else...my plans changed.

A couple from Europe said that the ferry from Punta Gorda was about half the cost. So, I went on to Punta Gorda. I jumped off the bus in Dangriga for lunch and just to walk around. The poverty is overwhelming here; I am glad I brought the pillow that Chloe made for me. It came in handy!

I am heading into areas with very few foreigners. My guide book is getting tattered. I need a few stamps in this new passport book. I settled into Punta Gorda. I found a bar/restaurant and met the owner and his wife. She was singing karaoke. It was nice to hear anything but reggae music. She sang a duet to Tanya Tucker’s “Delta Dawn”. I didn’t drink tonight as I was still sluggish from the night before.

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Had a long day but finally sitting in a cafe in Tulum Mexico.

Dad needed to work early and dropped me off a few hours before the flight. I routed through Charlotte and landed in Cancun about 3:30. I took the bus to Playa del Carmen and then another bus to Tulum.

Tulum is a very cool little town at the base of some amazing ruins.

I walked into my first hostel today and quickly turned and walked right out. I figured that I would rather pay the $25 bucks for my own room than bunk with 30 hippies. That was one of the first things that I learned down here: Hippieville. Granted, I love the lifestyle, but the idea of not bathing for a week or so, combined with the dreads..... I will have to pass. No amount of incense will cover the smell of urine, body odor, and weed.

There are certain levels of hippies. The first are the wannabe hippies who live in the suburbs, may have a small stash of weed somewhere, and say they believe in peace and love— but don’t really practice it. We can call this level of hippies Democrats. :)

It’s time for me to get on the road again. I will write more tonight.

Dan Rodgerson

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