Week Thirteen Wrap Up

Another big week on the road! The end of this week marks my three-month anniversary of hitting the road way back in June, which feels so long ago now it’s hard to believe it has only been three months. When I think back to that first flight to Hawai’i I’m a bit overwhelmed by how far I’ve come in that short space of time. It has certainly been eventful.

The week began in Tulum – my last day in that beautiful little corner of Mexico. Apart from the Mayan ruins and of course the parties, there was one last “must do” activity to complete the trip: a visit to a cenote. Cenotes are groundwater pools, often enclosed in caves, and the whole peninsula is dotted with them. The water is impeccably turquoise and clear – you can see straight to the bottom regardless of whether you have goggles. The water is quite cool, but the days are so hot in this part of Mexico at this time of year that it was welcome relief from constant sweating. I had hired a bike in Tulum so I also spent the day with a long ride through the hotel zone which runs down the length of the beach. I was unlucky enough to be in Tulum during one of their worst seaweed events in recent history. Apparently every 60-70 years the beaches and first 20-30 metres into the surf are thick with seaweed making a beach swim impossible. The cenote did its best to make up for that, but I’ve always been a beach kid first. Tuesday night happened to be ladies’ night at Todos Santos, so I headed down for my free tequila and final goodbye to Tulum’s nightlife and the people I met while there.

The next three days were mostly uneventful and uninteresting travel days. Wednesday started with farewelling my host Erick and his housemate, before a bus ride to Cancun, a flight to Mexico City, a bus to Toluca and finally a taxi to my hotel. Arriving at the hotel was an interesting experience given that they spoke no English. Having wanted to prepare myself for such situations I had taken Spanish lessons before leaving home and thank god I did. Even though I speak little the whole experience would have been horrible without it. Thursday was mostly flying, first to Fort Lauderdale with a long layover, but incredibly friendly immigration agents, then a late flight into San Pedro Sula, Honduras. One quick overnight stay at the Guaras Hostal (which I can recommend highly even though I was only there briefly) and I was off again. Another bus and a ferry on Friday and I finally reached my destination – the Caribbean island of Utila.

I had more than a few people ask me why I travelled so far to jump from Tulum to Utila – they are relatively close if you were to draw a straight line. What is really came down to was needing to book a flight at the last minute to satisfy the USA’s entry requirements combined with my own lack of knowledge about the availability of different options. I had planned everything up until Mexico and thought that would be enough, but the USA asked to see evidence that I was leaving Mexico. Had I known this earlier I would have put more time and effort into exploring the options for flights from Cancun, etc. I didn’t pay much for my flight to Honduras. Really what I invested was time, and honestly it wasn’t overly draining and I had so much to look forward to at the end of it I think I weathered it well.

Not a bad view of the Florida Keys and massive storm brewing over Miami.

Now, Utila, the place that made 3 days worth the while and continues to do so every day I stay. I think it’s important to note that I grew up not far from the beach in Australia. I have been to every state, seen the ocean on the Northern, Eastern, Southern and Western sides of the country, scuba dived the Great Barrier Reef and sailed around the Whitsunday Islands. What this means is that I feel I’m a pretty good judge of what is ‘paradise’ when discussing beautiful islands. Utila is an island paradise. With a complex colonial history, arguments about ownership by the Spanish and years of occupation by the British, Utila has belonged to Honduras for about 150 years. But in reality it is its own place. The people here have an identity mostly unlinked to that of Honduras, although they do stay in close touch with what’s happening on the mainland. English is the first language spoken by most people, Spanish second. The food, music and customs are mostly local, influenced by Honduras and the many many international visitors who have been visiting for the last few decades. These days Utila is best known as the cheapest place in the world to become PADI certified and the fact it sits on the second biggest reef system in the world makes it a truly special place to dive.

I arrived on Friday even to be greeted by the dive school staff at Ecomarine with friendly smiles and cold beer. Not a bad way to start. The days follow mostly the same pattern here beginning with some diving training in the morning, snorkeling or diving in the afternoon with my awesome dive buddy Armelle, and relaxing in the evening by the bar in the breeze which mercifully blows across the island each night. People here allow their routines to be dictated much more by the sun than we tend to in normal life – the day starts early and a late night is midnight. Apart from diving, Utila is famous for partying and there are a few bars here offering their own drinking challenges, some with the island’s version of moonshine – no, I have not tried it. I’m not sure how anyone manages to complete them knowing how hot it will be the next day. Hangovers and heat don’t mix.

Pico Bonito National Park – the view across the water to mainland Honduras.

So my daily routine consists mostly of some wonderful food, a bit a relaxation, some time in the water, slowly adjusting to the heat, watching the sunset, a rum or beer or two…sleep and repeat. Leaving will be hard work, I already know it.