Vacation Pictures

Cloud-covered Volcano Concepcion on Isla de Ometepe.

Anah and I are back from our whirl-wind trip across Costa Rica and Nicaragua. If anyone is interested our photo galleries of the trip are posted here....

Montezuma, Costa Rica (visiting Maria and other parts of the Nicoyla Peninsula)
San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua (up-and-coming surfer town with a great sunset)
Isla de Ometepe, Nicaragua (islands formed by twin volcanoes)
Grenada, Nicaragua (colonial city twice burned to the ground, plus a baseball game)
Lake Apoyo, Nicaragua (dormant volcano crater lake)
Masaya, Nicaragua (artisian town and our journey to the top of an active volcano)

Enjoy!

- Dan

A Few More Pictures from Semana Santa in Roatan

Here's a couple of more pictures from Roatan that, although, post-worthy have no back stories. Read about our family time in Roatan with this post. Some are "action" shots and others are just me trying to be "artsy". Enjoy my playing with the fancy camera!















See the rest of our Semana Santa Roatan gallery HERE.

-Dan

Semana Santa With The Wiersemas

Our much anticipated "spring break" has come and gone and now it's the final sprint to the finish line of our first year in Honduras. Only about four or so weeks in the school year and then "recuperations" (students' last-chance-cafe to pass onto the next grade). Before we get into too much excitement over that its important to look back on the great break that we just had last week.

Semana Santa or "Holy Week" a big break for Catholic countries like Honduras. Unlike in the U.S. where schools have spring break and they often vary, pretty much everyone in Central and South America has all or part of the week before Easter off. In Honduras, it was practically official that everyone's work week ended on the Wednesday before Easter Sunday.

Anah and I couldn't get out of San Pedro Sula fast enough! We're into the hot stretch and hitting the beaches of Roatan (where we spent our belated honeymoon) is much preferable to the hot and dusty streets of Honduras' industrial capital, where daily temps hover between 90 and 100 this time of the year with the "feels like" temperature even higher.

We boarded our flight and in less that 45 minutes we were making our way off the runway in Roatan. We had arrived right behind Mom (Diane), Dad (Mitch), and my two sisters (Katie and Emily) and the moment we approached the gate there they were waiting in the customs line.

Being the part-Hondurans Anah and I are, we were able to skip the customs baloney and wait for the fam on the other side.

We all made our way to one of Roatan's finer establishments, the Mayan Princess. Only the best for my family!

The pool view from our room. With a baby blue sea just beyond, what's the point of being pool-side?

For Anah and I, Roatan was mostly about family and relaxation. We weren't looking for too much excitement and either were the Wiersemas. Days at the beach went by and with the exception of a little too much sun here and there, we were all content to sit around and soak in the atmosphere.

Anah and my middle sister, Katie, were in Roatan for other reasons, too. Both had been taking scuba diving classes in their respective cities and now were ready to complete their certifications exploring one of the world's best coral reefs. The two of them were off many early mornings checking out all of the underwater sites around Roatan and by mid-week, joined the exclusive club of scuba-certified divers. I'll let her tell more about that in another post.

Days on the beach were mixed with nice dinners around the island. Roatan experiences a population boom during Semana Santa and the islands power grid sometimes has a hard time keeping up. One dinner we finished by candle light!

The second day on Roatan was filled with a nice day trip across the island. Anah's sister Erin also spent her honeymoon on the island of Roatan a few years back (before we knew we were headed here... small world) and dined at a unique place called "Hole in the Wall." We weren't able to hit it up the first time we visited, but figured it would be a nice time with the fam.

A taxi-van ride for about an hour brought us to the edge of a bay where two old motorboats ferried people across to this rickety building hanging over the water. Story goes a trio of American hippies' boat died here and they set up shop on Roatan. Now they serve great big Sunday lunches for all-comers. Lots of food and drink? Sounds like a place for the Wiersemas!

It's a "hole" all right.

Katie demonstrating some important point to Dad. Emily looks skeptical (so does Dad, actually).

The beach, drink, and eat pattern worked well for all of the Wiersemas (and us too!) who were breaking out of their long winter slump. Its kinda of amusing to think that the Celsius temperature in Roatan (40) was roughly the same the Fahrenheit temperature back in Wisconsin while they were down here!

Obviously the most important thing was the we got to spend important time with my parents and my two sisters. Its been a long run since winter break and even though we've done some fantastic things down in Honduras, the best things are being able to see, talk to, and hang out with a bit of home right here in Honduras.




- Dan

Fancy Pants

The time between Christmas Break and Spring Break is always a long stretch for teachers.  At this point you feel like you've been working with your students for such a long time, but yet, you still have so far to go until Summer Vacation.  You've been with them long enough that you feel like WHY AREN'T THEY BEHAVING??!?  but in their little minds they've been with you long enough that they feel like WHY IS THIS LADY STILL MAKING ME BEHAVE!?!?!?!?  And part of you feels like you really can't blame 'em...I'm a little sick of the sound of my own voice echoing off the walls of the classroom.  Bueller... Bueller?

So, in an effort to get that echo out of our heads and regain our sanity, we took off to Tela, a nearby beach town (yes, we've already been there). 

 We were joined on our travels by another couple, Sarah and Sava.  Sava is Dan's teaching partner in 7th grade and Sarah is the Middle School Guidance Counselor.  They are actually both from Madison, so many of our favorite places are places they also know well.  Originally we were going to stay in a budget hotel, as we normally do.  The budget hotels we tend to frequent are clean and have beds, but that's about it.  However, when we went to check-in we were surprised to find out that they were all booked up, as was their neighboring hotel.  Not knowing of many other options we did a team huddle, and came to an agreement- we were going to go fancy.  

Walking down the beach in search of paradise

Down the beach is a giant resort called TelaMar that looks like it was airlifted out of DisneyWorld or some such idyllic place, and plopped into the 2nd rate beach town of Tela.  We were a little wary of the cost, but decided if we shared a room with Sarah and Sava, it would be about the same price as if we had chosen the budget option and stayed in our own room.  As we paid for the room in the Main Building we were still a little nervous that the room may not live up to our ever-growing expectations. 

A little different than our normal "Habitaciones"

But, in a few moments we had our key and as we opened the door to our 3rd level paradise our expectations were surpassed.  The room was spacious, replete with two giant beds with firm mattresses (not the saggy, worn ones to which we've grown accustom) and covered by fluffy, clean, white comforters.  The wall was adorned with actual artwork, as well as a gigantic flatscreen TV.  Best of all, was the balcony; a large ceramic space which overlooked the 3 giant pools of the resort, bringing to our attention that one of the pools featured a "Swim-up" bar.  We had indeed gone fancy, and were happy that we would not have to go back for another day and a half.

Our travel partners in front of the luxurious pools

Swim on up...

In a typical blog post at this point I would fill you in on some adventure we had the next day.  But, there were no adventures to be had on Saturday nor Sunday- just pool time, drink time, card playing time and humongous flatscreen TV time.  And it was spectacular, every last fancy minute.  It was just what we needed, and today as we headed back to work we felt a little more tolerant and ready to face our days.  We'd gained back that last drop of patience that we just might need to get us through until we get recharged in full during our Spring Break.   

Okay, so living here is pretty great...

Non-frozen body of water.

Not to rub it in to those of you literally freezing in Wisco, but the weather has been gorgeous lately. Last weekend my darling sister came to town, and after one night in SPS we whisked her away to nearby Tela. Tela is only about an hour or so away from SPS, but for whatever reason we hadn't yet visited this tropical paradise. To be sure, it's not quite as lovely as Roatan but it does have a decent beach as well as cheap and comfortable hotels and most importantly, it is considerably more lovely than SPS.

Hotel view.

On the recommendation of friends, we stayed at the "MayaVista" which was a strange treehouse-like hotel that had a great view of the ocean and town below. The first day we spent at the beach where Dan was able to join a pick-up soccer game and Erin and I soaked up some sun.

The next day we woke early to venture out to "Punta Sal", a point of land just past Tela that is home to a large national park and several Garifunian (Indigenous Honduran) communities. We took a choppy boat ride out to the point, accompanied by some fishermen and our "guide", Juan Carlos. They dropped us off at the entrance to the national park (and to be clear, by "entrance" I mean medium-sized wooden sign stuck in the sand) and we followed JuanCa into the jungle. The tour literature promised monkey-spotting, so we were on the lookout for furry creatures but alas, saw none. We did however see lots of evidence of them as well as lots of funky insects and plants. Also, the hike led to a lovely lagoon where we found many crabs of different persuasions on a glittering beach.

You are here.

Juan Carlos (or as he like to say, "JuanCa... like the in the choclate factory") shows more lifesaving plants with his trusty stick.

We hiked back to meet the boat, where they then took us to a snorkeling area. Jumping out of the boat into the ocean was a little scary, but it was well worth it. The water was teeming with life and we were able to see lots of different coral, sea fans and plenty of colorful fish. We snorkeled up to another beach, which was home to a Garifuna family who for a small price made us a delicious lunch of fresh fried fish, red beans and rice and tajadas (fried banana chips). There were a few other folks on the beach, including a family who's kids attend our school, and they were playing some nice island tunes from their boat which made it all the more easy to relax on the pristine beach.

Beach.

Beach Babes.

The boat took us back into town in the afternoon and we found our way to the bus station. The "Tela Express" served as our chariot back to SPS and we were back with plenty of time to prepare for the school week ahead. It was a lovely weekend and a great chance to enjoy time with Erin. On Monday she was able to visit our school and meet the fabulous first graders (although I think their intensity scared her a little) and then on Tuesday she headed off to Roatan for the remainder of the week.

We're looking forward to our next trip to Tela- next weekend, maybe?

Click here to see all of our Tela photos!

Thanksgiving in Gracias

Turkey Day in Honduras

Its only a bit ironic that for the Thanksgiving weekend we spent in the Western Honduras village of Gracias (for those of you who don't speaka the Spanish, 'gracias' means 'thank you.'). After having hit most of the so-called "touristy" places of Honduras it was time for Anah and I to travel a bit off the beaten path.

Thanksgiving is not a holiday in Honduras, but since we are at an international school with many American teachers it becomes a holiday in our small part of the world. A lot of the Hondurans that go to the school readily and excitedly adopt American things (fashions, ruthless capitalism, etc) so Thanksgiving should not be a surprise.

Thursday was a half day of school. At the middle school it was "traditional sports day" where I learned games from my childhood actually have their origins in Honduras (another adopted thing for the US?).

Anah, however, was treated to a "real" Thanksgiving dinner at 10am in her classroom. Moms brought in turkey, mashed potatoes, and other fixings. The bird weighed in at a staggering 8 pounds, which in Thanksgiving lore make it one of the tiniest gobblers ever. But for Hondurans turkey is not usually on the menu let alone one that comes in double digit poundage. The taste of the Turkey got mixed reviews from the first graders I'm told, so it's small size was not a concern. The mashed potatoes were excellent as was the corn on the cob and mini-cupcakes (a Pilgrim specialty).

Santa Rosa de Copan

After school we were off on our adventure. We hopped aboard what could not necessarily be called a chicken bus, but perhaps maybe a "duck" bus as it was slightly fancier than a school bus but still no Hedman Alas. There was puke all over the place, which no one had bothered to clean up, which made us a little nervous as to what lay in store for us.

However, we made the journey without incident and witnessed many beautiful views in our 3 hour ride. Our first stop was the city of Santa Rosa de Copan. Even though it shares a similar name with the other Copan we took PJ and Nancy to, this one is in another part of the country and hold little of the same charm that the other does. Santa Rosa was a bit of a disappointment.

Our Lonely Planet guide encouraged us to check out the "wonder brick oven fired pizzas" of Pizza Pizza owned by an American in SR. I think Lonely Planet just likes throwing bones to American-owned restaurants because their few and far in between in Central America. Or bonus points because the writers are surprise at pizza in a far away place. The pizza was alright, but nothing to garner a top spot in a guide book or our opinions. Its hard to be blown away by pizza (or its availability) when you've got a classy Pizza Hut down the street from your house.

We did meet a nice British gentleman, whom I'm traded barbs with about soccer (he an Arsenal fan, I Liverpool), and shared dinner and a drink with before parting ways.

Anah and I hunkered down in an out-of-place cute bed and breakfast in SR before waking up to a delightful breakfast of Honduran tipico (corn tortillas, scrambled eggs, plantains, beans and fresh bananas). We enjoyed one cup of coffee with our breakfast and went out in search of more before heading to the cigar factory.

Cigars

Before moving on from Santa Rosa, there was one redeeming stop to make. While Santa Rosa lacks colonial charms and other niceties (its not terrible, just relatively uninteresting) it DOES have the Flor de Copan Cigar Factory. Flor is one of the top cigar manufactures in the world making dozens and dozens of brands of cigars for local consumption and the rest of the world. For 2 bucks you can get a tour of the factory.

Unfortunately, we weren 't allowed to take pictures on our tour so you'll have to stick with my word-smithing skills (already worried, huh?). I did manage to find some photos on the Interweb, though).

The amazing thing about the factory is that while this world becomes more an more technologically advanced there are just some things that computers and machines cannot replicate. Cigar manufacturing is one of those wonders.

The first room we passed through was the tobacco rooms where dozens of different tobacco leaves were sorted into the cigars that they would later become. They are sprayed with water and there they sit for four months as the piles of leaves cook themselves through the chemicals that are in the leaves. The smell of all the tobacco leaves gave your nose a combination burning/tickling feeling that shot straight to the brain.

From there we passed through a room where mostly women tore out the petiole (or main vein) of the tobacco leaf. Very important as this does not smoke (or roll) well. Then on to the leaf flattening room. More women, using machines that looked at least 100 years old (and sorta like an ancient typewriter) put leaf after leaf after leaf through a press to smooth out each leaf.

Both of those rooms were not huge, but the next part was this massive room full of hundreds of people sitting at desks hand-rolling the cigars. Taking the perfectly smooth and pressed leaves from the previous room and pack them together into tight packs of tobacco.

It was quite the sight and Anah was loving every minute, the whole experience having appealed to her love of seeing multiple of things. It seemed like a large portion of this room was staring at Anah and I as our "tour guide" wandered through the rows of rolling employees (did I mention we were the only people on the tour and probably the only ones in a quite awhile).

I guess each roller can produce hundred of nearly identical cigars each day. From there it was onto packaging where the different types of cigars get their plastic wraps, rings, and boxes to be shipped around the world.

Despite the fact that we were literally surrounded by thousands upon thousands of cigars (and obviously made with little labor cost) we were not offered one for the road or the opportunity to purchase any (no gift shop! ha!). It was still a pretty cool experience to be able to see something like that produced from start to finish.

Gracias

After the fun with mass quantities, we walked down to the bus station and found a chicken bus to take us to Gracias. Again, the ride was gorgeous as we passed through the mountains, getting a glimpse into the real Honduran countryside.

Gracias holds a bit more colonial charm that Santa Rosa and alongside some serious financial support from the Spanish government the area is trying to push hard to become a center for tourism for those who like old Spanish churches and local pottery. They are also playing a large role in developing the infrastructure of the nearby national park. The organization is called "Colusuca" and seems to be making good and hopefully sustainable progress. It's kinda funny that the Spanish are putting more money into this effort than the Honduran government is. Perhaps some left over guilt?

One of the many colonial churches in Gracias

The city was undergoing a face lift with the central park being totally reconstructed. Our hotel was at the foot of a big hill that held a Spanish fort overlooking the city. The hotel, Guancascos, is owned by a nice Dutch lady, Froni, and is a place where Anah visited during her first trip to Gracias when she was in Honduras the first time in 2003. Since it was her memories of the place that led to our trip, I'll have her tell the story from here on. (You'd all prefer that anyway, I'm sure.)

Part of the restored fort

A Trip Back

Yes, yes, I planned our little jaunt to Gracias. During my summer in Honduras in 2003 midway through my little adventure in Honduran countryside we were treated to a break where we were allowed to spend a weekend in Gracias. Compared to where we were spending most of our time that summer, Gracias seemed like a cosmopolitan mecca. I remember being charmed by its dusty streets and moreso by the lovely little hotel in which we stayed, Guancascos.

Like Dan said, it's set up at the foot of the mountains and has several charming rooms that look out onto the town. It has a very tranquil atmosphere, and plays host to all types of travelers, Peace Corps workers on break, local election officials...all types. When I stayed there the first time I remember thinking that I'd like to come back and stay there again, never thinking it would be a real possibility. Little did I know!

Returning to Gracias was nearly as wonderful as I'd imagined. It provided a much calmer atmosphere than San Pedro and allowed us a nice, if not traditional, time to reflect on what we're thankful for.

The first afternoon we roamed around town, exploring its nooks and crannies and hiked up to the fort to get some nice views of town. The fort is well-maintained and very picturesque. That night we found a decent meal in town and played witness to several 6th grade graduation celebrations as public school was coming to it's school-year end.

A Trip UP

Before ending the day, we reviewed several 'tour' options at Guancascos for the next day at the neighboring National Park, Celaque. They had a nice little brochure featuring several different hiking options, starting a two-hour "novice" hike ranging up to a 3-day overnight hike for those looking for a "challenge". Given our limited time, and assessing our hiking abilities as fair to middling, we chose an eight-hour "tour" (Dan will likely contest that he was less involved in the choice, and that I should take full responsibility but since I am writing I will leave you to make your own judgements). The word "tour" led us to believe it would be a leisurely 8 hours, so we packed adequate water and snacks and went to bed dreaming of the pleasant day that awaited us.

The day began with a lovely breakfast of fruit, granola and yogurt and we hopped in the hotel's truck to get a ride to meet our tour-guide. The ride was bumpy to say the least and came to a halt in front of a adobe shack where we were introduced to Luis, our guide. Dressed in typical campesino-style with a long-sleeve button down, jeans, cowboy hat and machete, Luis looked more than able.

We began our hike, and I began the difficult task of understanding Luis' rambling Spanish. My Spanish skills have proved adequate in San Pedro, allowing me to converse decently with my students' parents and exchange pleasantries with our taxi-drivers, etc. However, they came up woefully short as I tried to understand, and then translate for Dan, our new friend. Although still speaking Spanish, Luis spoke with a very different accent that made it tricky for me to understand- Imagine you've learned the Queen's English and then are sent to the South.

This tree can cure cancer, or something like that.

Regardless of the language difficulties, our hike began pleasantly and from what I gathered Luis told us many things about the local flora, including a lot about the medicinal nature of many of the plants. He showed us several that were edible, including a tasty little citrus fruit that we enjoyed throughout the day. We hiked on, remarking on the similarities of the Honduran countryside with Wisconsin's. The area is full of pine trees and ferns, but then the occasional palm tree or citrus fruit would remind us that there were indeed differences.

For about two hours we felt great. "What a great idea, Anah! This is perfect!", remarked my thankful husband. "Oh, yes, " I thought, marveling at my own travel-planning skills, "What a great idea." Then, during the third hour, as we continued to hike upwards it became clear that perhaps leisure wasn't going to play a large role in the day. Luis showed no signs of slowing down and our mini-lessons on medicinal plants stopped entirely as we struggled to keep up. Although, I'm pretty sure Dan was wondering if there would be any medicinal plants that could help with a sudden heart attack.


Finally, after four hours we breathlessly asked Luis if we could stop for a bite to eat. He tried to tell us that we could stop further up the way, but I insisted that a break was necessary NOW. So, we stopped and munched for awhile on our Nutella and bread sandwiches and washed it down with several gulps of water. Luis regaled us with tales of other hikers, primarily Spanish visitors and how he was glad we weren't "fat" like them because, "they want to rest every 10 minutes! They shouldn't eat so much fried chicken and smoke so much!". Feeling encouraged that at least we were not as out-of-shape as some Spaniards we packed up our foodstuffs and soldiered on. Despite the tough conditions and our burning leg muscles we were enjoying the beautiful hike and saw many amazing views. Also, the weather was nearly perfect as it was about 70 degrees and the dense forest provided lots of cool spots. We criss-crossed several streams and saw many beautiful little waterfalls.

Oh, it's so pretty!

We continued up for at least another hour where we ran into some French hikers who seemed somewhat disorientated and begged us for cigarettes. We of course had nothing to offer, they didn't seem interested in our raisins nor Nutella, but being concerned that they were perhaps lost we asked them if they wanted to join us for the remainder of our hike. When they learned that we were still on our way upwards, they declined which made Luis very happy as he had no interest in taking on the wayward smokers. We did however convince Luis to again let us rest a bit at their camp and we managed to snarf down another sandwich before again hitting the trail.

One of the wider, more well-defined parts of the 'trail'

Given that it had been about 5 hours I was beginning to get a little nervous so I asked Luis about how much longer the uphill climb would continue and he gave the vague reassurance that we were "cerca". We finally reached the pinnacle, and it was truly worth it. The
view was amazing and the different plants we saw around the top were also stunning. The top was full of interesting wild begonias and loads of flowering bromeliads.

This is a bromeliad. No es medicina.

This photo was taken by Luis. Apparently he thought by 'vista'
we meant 'make our faces huge'.

Here's the picture without our faces.

Relieved that the worst was over we happily began our descent. We patted ourselves on the back and started trekking down. It was easier on our lungs, but soon we learned (and in hindsight it shouldn't have been a surprise) that going down was going to be nearly as challenging as going up for our legs. The path was narrow, steep and slippery. Fearful of falling, I was taking my sweet time and getting a little frustrated as it seemed like the end was again painfully far away. Luis, I think, sensing my frustration offered a new strategy, "It is easier if you run". Oh really, Luis? Are you serious? But, giving no time for us to ponder the new strategy- Luis begins a steady jog and starts gingerly leaping over roots and rocks and therefore leaving us no choice but to follow suit. We were afraid our little guide would leave us deep in the Honduran wilderness so we did our best to trot after him, although we were no where near as nimble and certainly looked ridiculous- fortunately there were no onlookers.

But, finally we made it back and now, being a week later and the memory of the leg pain, breathlessness and fear of dying in the wild having faded significantly, I can say it was a wonderful hike and a fabulous idea.

Luckily, this is all I remember.

Our hotel host picked us up around 4 p.m. and we found our way back to Guancascos and enjoyed a few frosty beverages and a feast of food before retreating to our room and crashing. The next day we found a chicken bus back to Santa Rosa, and our friend the Duck awaited us to take us back to SPS.

All in all, another successful trip. Dan learned the valuable lesson of overseeing any decisions regarding added excursions and I found a real use for all those lunges and squats at the gym.

We spent the weekend chasing this damn leprechan!

Where's the friggin' gold?

This was our guide for Saturday as Anah and I spent eight (count 'em), eight hours hiking. Neither of us can really feel our legs right now.

Its been a really long time since we've posted and we're really sorry about that. Honestly, very few things have happened in the last couple of weeks. Its rained a lot (that's the "rainy season" for ya) and school has been so so.

In the next couple of days, we'll put some pics up from Anah's Thanksgiving party in her classroom and add to our adventures this past weekend.

The Honeymoon Continues

Our beach in the morn' and as the sun goes down.



A wise* (* = not wise... the guy was a frickn' idiot) jewelry seller once told me that "the marriage begins when the honeymoon ends... that's when the marriage begins." As if it was some sort of cryptic warning to soon-to-be-newly-weds, Anah and I have done our best to not allow the marriage to tumble into some sort of wedded disaster.

This week we've been vacationing off the coast of Honduras on the island of Roatan and these islands might as well be their own country because everything here is nothing like the mainland and the city of San Pedro Sula, where we have spent nearly all of our time since moving down here.

Spending the last week on West Bay Beach in Roatan is like being the people that are relaxing in all of the promotional posters for places you wish you had enough time and money to travel to, but don't. The sands are white, the sea and endless stretch of alternating light blues and dark blues, and the people relatively friendly and unobtrusive to make the entire stay a delight.

Roatan benefits from being slightly off the vacationer's radar. It lacks the high rises of a Cancun and the regularity of pasty white American tourists so that's very nice. Its only downfall is that very off-the-radar-ness. Our resort, Bananarama, is beautiful, but if you're looking for all sorts of options in the food and entertainment department you'd be sorely disappointed.

But that's not to say Anah and I are disappointed. We are far from the hustle, bustle and nitty, gritty of San Pedro Sula. It is the perfect recipe for a great honeymoon.

Despite our travel trouble with the ferry from La Ceiba to Roatan (which only Anah can elaborate on) we have had a great week. I've found out that scuba diving is not for me since (unlike Anah) I am not a mouth breather and have trouble managing my air underwater. Snorkeling on the other hand has been gorgeous. One of the best things about Roatan (and its emerging appeal for many) is that its coral reefs are easily accessible from the beach and are not at any depths like some of its more famous cousins around the world (Australia's Great Barrier, etc). While scuba diving can get one access to the most limited reefs some of the very things one would see scubaing you are able to see via snorkeling.

That was an activity that I was able to be somewhat competent at. With only a depth of 10 or so feet at the max all of the reef near the shore of our beach (and the finest in Roatan) were within our grasp (that's just an expression because you're not allowed to touch the reef). The day before Anah and I snagged a pair of ocean kayaks and took them down the coast to the nearby village of West End. Our journey their and back took a leisurely three hours, a nice trip to waste away the morning hours. It also confirmed our suspicions that we had the best beach of all of the spots advertising that very fact. Going up and down what is Roatan's resort coast proved that the white sand in front of Bananarama was not to be beaten.

Other than those activities our week has been defined by inactivity. When the convenience of ocean front property calls it is hard to refuse. The circular lifestyle of sun, swim, sun, swim is not an easy one to break and we weren't about to try. In the four days we've been here, I've never been as tan as I am right now. Luckily, we've both managed to avoid sunburn from what has to be one of the most brutal and unrelentingly suns. The heat is just as bad as in San Pedro, but it obviously lacks the relief that the water provides here.


We explored the other vacation spot, West End, by foot last night having a delicious dinner at the Half Moon Bay Resort. We’ve been sharing a good part of our honeymoon with another pair of EIS teachers, Andy and Jen (their blog is here) and we went searching for a party on a Wednesday night. Normally, Wednesday are not a good night anywhere, but we thought this being a vacation spot that it might be party-time all the time.

As you might suspect Wednesday nights in paradise are just a quiet as Wednesday nights in anywhere in the world. We found ourselves in the West End (alleged) hot spot, the Twisted Toucan, which according to its owner (a good looking blond woman from Montana) was listed in Maxim magazine as one of the coolest bars on Earth. Like everything in that magazine I was to take this claim with a grain of salt and the lack of visitors to the Toucan would back up my skepticism.



Shawna, the owner, came to Roatan to find herself, presumably after some bad divorce. She was nice enough, but spent a good part of our conversation talking about the difficulties of running a business on a tropical island. The downturn in the American economy (damn you AIG!) and the fits and starts of a growing tourist trade has taken its toll on the Toucan and its (Maxim endorsed) reputation.



Many gin and tonics later and even one Long Island Ice Tea (the sign that Daniel’s night is almost over) we left only to find the bar next to the Toucan was West End’s hot spot. Maybe next time.

I think that's all for now!