Border Crossing: Honduras to El Salvador at El Amatillo

We got on the bus in Choluteca early in the morning after a not-so-comfortable night in the first air-conditioned room of our trip. Both of us had sore throats but we were both excited to be leaving Honduras and heading on to El Salvador. The border town of El Amatillo was a 2-hour chicken bus ride away from Choluteca and the bus was so empty, we could put all our bags on a seat without having to pay extra. The scenery we passed by that morning was pretty. Lots of green hills and farmland, a taste of what was to greet us in El Salvador. The day was bright and sunny too adding extra beauty to the view from the bus window.

On our last chicken bus ride across the southern tip of Honduras.

Once the bus reached the last stop, we loaded up our backpacks for the walk across the checkpoints. First we passed the messy Honduran immigration, which was full of people pushing and cutting the queue. Then we walked across a bridge to the checkpoint on the El Salvadorean side, which was pretty much empty. We noticed that we did not have a stamp in our passport to indicate that we had entered the country but the immigration officer told us that our details were already in their computer system. So we continued onto our first bus ride in El Salvador.

The last immigration checkpoint on the Honduran side of El Amatillo.

Yet another river seperates the two countries here at El Amatillo. The dramatic hills at the side of the river were a welcome sight.

The immigration checkpoint at the El Salvadorean side.

Before coming to El Salvador we had not really read up on the country or planned a route. We knew we had to get to San Miguel, the closest city to El Amatillo, but we had no idea about places to stay or places we would have to pass through to get there. One noticeable thing about the buses in El Salvador is that you immediately notice that you are on a comfortable coach, and not in a chicken bus (that we had grown accustomed to over the past few months). The chairs and overall feel of the buses were  luxurious compared to what we had been used to, and of course, now we had to pay in US dollars (the currency in El Salvador). We had to take two buses to get to San Miguel and we both fell asleep on the second bus and had to be woken up when we had arrived!

We arrived in San Miguel just as it started to rain. We walked around but when i saw a shop selling guns and other firearm accessories, i told Rick that i did not want to stay in this city. It suddenly felt dangerous and i was immediately uncomfortable. When it started to rain, we were both a bit frazzled. Rick suggested heading onwards and out of San Miguel to a place that he had read about in the guide called Perquin, another 2 hours away, situated in the mountains. It had a rich history as a guerrilla stronghold and scene of a terrible massacre during the civil war. We ate some food at the bus station before hopping onto a packed bus to the town of San Francisco Gotera. From there, we caught a 4-wheel drive pickup for the rest of the journey further away from civilisation and up the winding highland roads to Perquin.

One Night in Choluteca

It was almost dark by the time we arrived in Choluteca, Honduras. We asked the guy on the colectivo to stop us at a place where there were cheap hostels and where it would be convenient to get a bus to El Amatillo on the border with El Salvador the next morning. We grabbed our backpacks and headed over to the hotels that were pointed out to us and checked out the rooms. Without question, the rooms i saw that evening were the filthiest i had seen on the trip here in Central America so far. In fact, they were the filthiest rooms i had seen in my life. Without going into detail, believe me when i say that they were disgusting. And not only were they disgusting, the people selling these rooms were not very nice. Both rooms i saw looked unsafe as well and smelled awful. Life on the road is not all glitz and glamour!

Since it was getting dark, and we had read that Choluteca was a dangerous place after dark, we hailed a taxi and asked the driver whether he knew of any safe place to stay for the night. We figured, even if we needed to take a taxi the following day to the bus station, it would still be better than staying in either of the rooms we had seen. The driver ended up taking us to Hotel Bonsai, which he said was close to the police station, and therefore safe. I recognised the name from the guidebook too, so we figured, it couldn’t be that bad.

It was.

But at least it was safe. The lady operating the place was nice but the room was very expensive (at USD$20 a night) and it was one of those rooms where you have to sleep with all your clothes on. We couldn’t bring ourselves to use the shower either, and the air conditioning looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a very long time. There were insects crawling everywhere…. you get the picture!

We were advised not to wander too far from the hotel and were directed to a Chinese restaurant just opposite. While we were there many locals came to order take-away food and almost everyone was worried that their bikes or motorbikes would get stolen from outside the restaurant (making us feel even safer, NOT!). One good thing though, the food at this place was delicious! It was the first time that we had tried Chinese food since we came to Central America, and the food here was a treat. It was a Cantonese restaurant, and on our budget, we could only order a ‘char siew’ fried rice, but it was huge and exceeded our expectations in leaps and bounds. I asked the owner/chef if he had siew yoke (not sure of the spelling), but he said the Chinese population in Choluteca was small and therefore they didn’t make it. For a while Rick and i were transported back to Asia, and after our thoroughly fulfilling meal, we really felt homesick! We really miss Malaysian food.

The Chinese restaurant opposite Hotel Bonsai didn’t look like much from the outside, but the food there was delicious. For us, it was the only good thing about spending a night in Choluteca.

We went back to our room and the next morning the both of us woke up with sore throats from the dirty air conditioning unit in our room (this was the first room that we had stayed in with air conditioning in more than a year, we usually avoid it). We quickly left the hotel and asked for directions to the bus station from the first person we met on the street.

You know a place is dangerous, when an old lady who you ask for directions tells you “Don’t worry, you are safe with me. I just came from church.” She was our angel that morning and led us directly onto a waiting bus, which would take us out of one of the worst places we have ever stayed, and onwards to El Salvador.

Border Crossing: Nicaragua to Honduras at Guasale

We left Granada earlyish. We didn’t want to rush ourselves and we were fairly confident that we had a good chance of making it all the way to the border crossing at El Amatillo into El Salvador.

First was a bus to Managua, then to Leon. From Leon to Chinandega then to the border with Honduras at Guasale. While we were on this last bus route, it started to rain. By the time we had reached the last stop, the rain had subsided and we put on our backpacks to cross the border on foot. Since we had already renewed our CA-4 visas, we didn’t have any problem at all at the border checkpoints. We had made this exact crossing but in the other direction into Nicaragua around a month earlier, so we knew exactly what to expect this time around. We managed to navigate through the swarm of pedicab guys and made it across the bridge on our own.

When we entered back into Honduras, it was clear that we were not going to make it all the way over to the border with El Salvador. The sky was getting dark and we knew that we would have to find a place nearby and continue the next day. It had started to rain again, so Rick and i made a quick decision to make our way onto a colectivo which took us to the town of Choluteca, Honduras, a town we had passed through a month earlier.

Safe journey…

This time we walked across the bridge instead of being conned by a pedicab driver. Lots of trucks were lined up on the other side.

The river we crossed at the border, with black clouds looming ahead.

Border Crossing: Nicaragua

We ended up leaving Tegucigalpa later than planned. We were pretty exhausted from the long bus journey the previous day and had not eaten anything for dinner so we crossed the road and had a local Honduran breakfast at a hole-in-the-wall just a few doors down from our hotel. It was there that we had some overly-sour sour cream in our baleadas, which upset our tummies. Not a good start to another long day of traveling.

Our bus from Tegucigalpa to Choluteca.

We hopped onto the bus to Choluteca, one of Honduras’ southern towns just before the border crossing, right outside our hotel. The bus was slow and stopped to pick up and drop off people everywhere. It took us 3 hours, and at the Coluteca bus terminal, we found the colectivo vans to Guasaule, a tiny border town. We were not prepared for the commotion that greeted us as soon as the van stopped at the last point in Honduras before the border checkpoint though. A huge crowd of local pedicab/trishaw guys just descended on us, literally grabbing our backpacks  from the roof and loading them onto a pedicab before we had even exited the van. A fight broke out among them and we were in the middle of it all, which made us eventually feel coerced to pay 100 Lempiras (roughly 4 Euros) to one of the guys, just to get us out of this mess (which was a bit unnerving). We were first taken to the Honduran checkpoint to get our passports stamped before proceeding to cross a bridge over to the Nicaraguan immigration point.

Our full pedicab. Those two guys on the right took us over to Nicaragua.

The Honduras immigration checkpoint at the Guasaule crossing. Just a couple of tables.

Goodbye Honduras.

The river between Honduras and Nicaragua.

While we were crossing the bridge (quite a few border crossings have been over a river),  we were stopped by a couple of military personnel who thoroughly checked through our backpacks, and thankfully found nothing to stop us, so we continued to the other side. While Rick went into the Nicaraguan checkpoint to settle the entry fees and get our entry stamps (we paid 12 USD each), i waited outside with our bags. The pedicab guys, started asking for a tip ie. more money, which we were certainly not going to pay,having realised by that time that we had been conned (we could have walked across, it wasn’t as far as they had told us). At this point they were getting quite annoying, and the more they harped on about their “tip”, the more resolved we were not to give them a cent more than what we had agreed upon.

The end of the bridge and the entrance into Nicaragua.

The Nicaraguan immigration personnel told Rick that we had only 3 more days left to either extend our CA-4 visas in Nicaragua (CA-4 countries are Nicaragua, Guatemala, Honduras and El Salvador – and you get a total of 90 days for all 4 countries) or quickly make our way to Costa Rica to exit and reenter. We were told that we could get an extension in Leon,the first place we had decided to stay in Nicaragua, so we decided to head to the immigration office there and see how much it would cost us when we were settled.

The pedicab guy then took us to the bus stop after the immigration point, where we got on a chicken bus to wait for the 2-hour ride to Leon. Before getting on the bus, Rick realised that his sunglasses were missing, so he ran after the disgruntled pedicab guys (they were unhappy that we had not tipped them), and when he confronted them, one of them said that they had, rather conveniently, “just found” the sunglasses. It was not a nice thing to have to deal with at all. At this point we were both pretty tired from the journey and the heat and still had upset stomachs.

Waiting for our bus to Leon to leave after getting Ricks sunglasses back.

On the bus to Leon, we met a South African couple who we eventually ended up sharing a cab with into Leon from the bus stop (20 Cordoba’s each). It was already dark and we were stopped literally at the side of the main road to Managua. The taxi driver dropped us at a reasonably-priced hostel (Hostel La Clinica), where we spent our first night in Leon, Nicaragua.

Leaving Utila

After spending almost 7 weeks in Utila it was time to leave. We had thoroughly enjoyed our time there.  An idyllic Caribbean island, friendly locals, home-cooked food in our fantastic apartment and best of all, we got to spend time and catch up with our friends Jesus and Begonia. It was a kind of holiday from traveling, a chance to just relax and take a break. We couldn’t have chosen a better place.

However, as always, good things have to come to an end. We had earlier found some very cheap flights back to Spain from Cancun, Mexico (the route we took to come to this part of the world), which were so cheap, we just couldn’t pass them by without purchasing them. After a few sessions on skyscanner.net, we found our flight for just 125 Euros each which was considerably less expensive than what we had paid to come. So now, we have a flight back to Spain at the end of June.

This has obviously changed the dynamics of our travels. We now have a deadline to make our way back up to Mexico and we have had to change our mindsets, and get moving! We quickly decided on our next destination, planned our route and packed up to leave as we have just under two months now to travel though Nicaragua and El Salvador before retracing our route back to Cancun, Mexico.

Jesus and Begonia decided to stay in Utila for a few more weeks, so we had to say our goodbyes for now.

Leaving Utila: loaded up and walking to the main jetty.

Our last look at Utila from the main jetty.

We left Utila bright and early on a Monday morning on the 6.20am catamaran to La Ceiba. The one hour boat trip was over in a flash as i dozed off several times on the boat! When we arrived, we were ushered to a corner to wait for enough people to  fill a taxi. It was sort of done colectivo-style. Some tourists jumped ahead into taxis of their own, but we were going for the budget option as we were not in any rush. In the end, we saw a side of La Ceiba that many tourists do not get to see, when we dropped off the other two Honduran passengers on our way to the Transportes Cristina bus terminal. Again, we chose the cheaper local buses and not the expensive air-conditioned ones.

We had to wait for an hour for our bus to Tegucigalpa (the capital city of Honduras, notoriously dangerous), and perhaps onwards to Choluteca if we could make it before dark. While we were waiting at the bus station, a man came in and pulled out a gun, emptied out the magazine and loaded bullets and left it with security while he purchased his ticket for the same bus as us! That was a bit unnerving, seeing it for the first time, even though you read about it, hear stories and see signs asking people to surrender firearms before entering an establishment.

The bus to Tegucigalpa took us a long and tiring 8 hours, so by the time we arrived at around 6pm, we were too tired and it was too late to go onwards to Choluteca. We shared a taxi to Comayaguela, one of Tegucigalpa’s notorious neighbourhoods (which the Lonely Planet says is highly dangerous to be walking around in, even in broad daylight) with a Chilean couple we had met on the bus and as soon as we arrived, it started pouring down with rain. We quickly found a place to stay that was convenient to catch the bus the next day (Hotel Pinares – the bus to Choluteca stops right in front of the hotel) and settled in for the night. Our plan was to wake up and take the bus to Choluteca then cross the border to Nicaragua at Guasale.

Hotel Pinares. Reasonable, friendly, clean and well located.

View from Hotel Pinares. This lady had a heavy burden on her way to the market.

Comayaguela neighbourhood, Tegucigalpa. We hopped onto the bus to Choluteca from this street outside our hotel.

Water Cay

One Sunday, we visited Water Cay, one of the many small uninhabited islands off Utila, Honduras. A friend had arranged for Zorro, a local fishermen, to bring us over to the island in the morning and pick us up later in the evening.

Starting our journey. Beachfront houses on Utila island.

Deserted beach, Utila.

On the way there, we passed by many tiny islets, some of which are connected by bridge and heavily built-up with some houses on the water. Others had only one house or were completely devoid of all buildings, such as Water Cay.

Bridge across islets.

Some areas were really packed with houses.

Others had an island to themselves.

The amazing Caribbean water. Breathtaking shades of blue.

As soon as we arrived, we jumped into the sea to cool off, and that set the tone for the rest of the afternoon. We had a BBQ literally next to the beach, so when we weren’t eating, we were sitting in the clear, turquoise Carribean waters. Shane joined us for the trip and snorkeled around the whole cay, while Jesus and Ricardo saw an octopus, and lots of colourful reef fish.

Our destination, Water Cay.

Zorro, preparing some fish for our BBQ.

You really can’t beat a view like this.

Clear, clear water.

Our spot on the beach.

Preparing a salad. I’m really going to miss the avocados here.

Food galore.

The boys!

Friendly dogs.

The day passed by too fast and before we knew it, Zorro had come back for us. The journey back was pretty bumpy on our small fishing boat, and we all got soaked to the bone (except Zorro, who cleverly had a raincoat shield), but we all had smiles on our faces!

Loading up the boat.

One last look. Goodbye Water Cay!

When we got back to Utila, we bought some fresh tuna that Zorro had caught earlier in the day. He showed us the cuts on his fingers from the nylon fishing lines that he uses, war scars from fighting with these massive fish on a daily basis. I don’t need to tell you how delicious that fish was when prepared simply. It was good enough to eat raw!

Rick with some of Zorro’s catch of the day.

Natural Pumice

Did you know that ‘pumice’ is a type of volcanic rock? Those stones we use to shave off hard skin from our feet were actually ejected from a volcano at some point in the past!

I found out this interesting fact when Rick came back from the beach one day with a few pumice rocks that he had found at the water’s edge. Jesus told us that these rocks (that are highly porous), actually float on the surface of the water and he had seen lots of them in Lake Atitlan, Guatemala. It was my first time to see these rocks in their natural state, and they work just as good as my pharmacy-bought one!

The four stones that Rick and Jesus found at the water’s edge.

A closer look at these super-light, highly porous rocks.

Bando Beach

Bando beach is located on the south western most point of Utila island. It is a small private beach, costing 60 lempiras (about 10 ringgit or 2.50 euros) to enter and looks out to a small lighthouse, a few hundred meters offshore. There is also a view of the whole Eastern Harbour of Utila from here.

The entrance to Bando Beach.

We decided to make a day out of our visit to this private beach, so we packed a picnic and our snorkel gear to bring with us. As we entered the beach compound, we were greeted by a couple of colourful birds. There were only a few people on the small beach, mainly single women, who were either sleeping in the shade, sun bathing or sitting in the clear shallow water. We picked out a spot with a few chairs and immediately went for a dip to cool off.

this bird looks like he’s getting told off!

What a beauty!

The beach is a slight slope, with mangroves on either side and patches of sea grass near the shore. Although the water is shallow, you can still see many fish beneath the clear water. Towards the lighthouse are a series of dive sites and a huge coral reef. Rick and Jesus swam all the way out to do some serious snorkeling around the lighthouse, while Begonia and i relaxed on land, taking turns to float around for a while in the sea.

Tranquility.

Clear, warm, shallow water.

Looking out towards Eastern Harbour.

The day passed quickly and before we knew it, the sun was setting and it was time to head home. We all enjoyed our day at Bando beach in our own way.

Sunset.

Dona Rosa’s Baleadas

Since we arrived in Utila, Honduras, we have spent most days eating home-cooked food. Those few times when we have decided to eat out, we have headed to our local ‘baleada’ shop, run by Dona Rosa.

Baleadas are a common Honduran snack that originate from La Ceiba. A baleada consists of a large flour tortilla filled with refried red beans, crumbled cheese and a choice of other ingredients such as vegetables (typically an onion, tomato and green bell pepper mix called ‘chismol’), egg, meat, prawns, fish, avocado and other goodies. They are delicious, fast to make, and probably one of the most affordable food choices on the island (prices range from 20 – 55 lempiras each, depending on the filling).

Now this post sounds a bit like  a paid advertisement, but on an island, where budget food options are limited, it’s nice to know where to find a good meal.

My half-eaten beef baleada.

Dona Rosa herself and her team of cooks.

Caribbean Architecture in Utila

When we first came to Utila and started walking its streets and pathways, i was immediately captivated with my first real encounter with Caribbean architecture. The houses look so similar to ‘kampung’ (literally translated as ‘village’) houses back home in my native Sarawak. Seeing how similar these structures were made me feel strangely at home… well that, and the island’s landscape. Here is a selection of some of the houses that we have seen dotted around this beautiful island. The locals here are clearly house-proud and maintain their abodes in immaculate condition.

As you will see, wood features in all structures here on the island, in one way or another. Some houses, like Shane and Kristina’s, are in places with no running water or electricity, so they simply generate their own with solar panels, wind turbines and wells. Most of the older houses have huge compounds and neatly-trimmed gardens, which give an open, spacious feel to this island. So enjoy this little collection of photos of Caribbean ‘kampung’ architecture.

A multilevel wooden house at the foot of Pumpkin Hill with a wind turbine.

Typical Caribbean architecture.

Some houses are close together.

While others have massive compounds.

This is one of a row of identical white houses.

One of my favourites. A bad photo of it obscured by that horrible fence.

The similarity to ‘kampung’ or ‘village’ houses in Malaysia is uncanny.

I liked this one. Compact and cute.

This beautiful round house is right on the beach.

Many of the houses such as this one, had pretty gardens.

One of the bigger houses.

Stairs all the way to the top of this house.

Work in progress.

My favourite house so far. This one was built around a massive tree and has a platform right on top.