Touch Down in Honduras

By BobbyRica | April 16, 2012


I may have been a frequent visitor of Central America. But for the life of me, I have never gravitated nor held any form of interest in the country known as Honduras. I guess when one has already found his second home (Costa Rica, to those still unfamiliar to this blog), you really don’t feel the need to look for sanctuary anywhere else. For me (and I do hope my Honduran friends don’t see this as a slight), Honduras just seems to be another country that’s just there. Evolving, grandiose and ever present, but never really a part of my life.

But after my eye opening trip to Peru, and after I had discovered the many hidden (and not so hidden) gems it held, I decided to go to the one place I never would have thought to go. I mean, I’m just being me, man!

And so yet again, I go rushing blindly into the unknown. I guess wanderlust has gotten hold of me. Again! With nothing but adventure and mayhem in mind, I brought my two trusty friends — Eben and Akasha. I wanted to explore the beautiful cities and mysterious hinterlands of Honduras and share the experience with my dear friends after all . I anticipate twists and turns. I expect the worst and yet I hope for the best. Whatever happens, it’s bound to be fun. And yes, hot Honduran girls on the beach will always figure in on our quest! Who couldn’t say no to those beautiful Honduran sirens of the surf?

As I board the plane from San Jose to Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras, I smile at the prospects of the trip. I guess after waiting for hours in the airport, I drift into Walter Mitty mode. I often romanticize the circumstances that will happen to me in places unknown. Which oftentimes result in me falling flat on my face. But I don’t care! That’s part of the excitement.


As the plane made a precarious landing on Tegucigalpa, paranoid little Akasha whispered to me. As he surfed the Internet hours before, he learned that the runway had a reputation for being cursed. The airport has history of grisly aeronautical accidents. As the plane skidded on the Tonconpin Airport tarmac, I immediately breathed a short prayer to my Poker Gods. I promised that if things go well, it will only mean that my trip to Honduras is blessed and I was fated to come here. I guess the Poker Gods didn’t want to cut short our journey.

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