Friday, March 28, 2008

I made it!

My flights all went well. Got to Roatan and there was someone to meet me for my charter flight. I had 3 guys to help me with the two 50 bags of supplies that I took. Security wanted to look in my box of supplies but once opened, fortunately I included a packing list. They just let me go. Then my charter plane (Cessna 172 - 4 seater) pilot came to my rescue and we cut to the front of the security line. Got a few dirty looks from the locals. Later I found out that usually mistresses and daughters of rich people get that kind of treatment. I guess I am in Honduras after all. Oh well…I got on that little plane with my personal pilot and off to Utila we went. What a beautiful view. Things happened so fast once I landed that I didn’t have a chance to think about getting my camera and sunglasses out for the flight. As we approached the island of Utila there was this lone landing strip and not a soul in sight except for Marina and her golf cart who took me to my little cottage in the jungle.

After a good night’s rest Thursday night, Marina took me around the village in her golf cart. It didn’t take very long as it is rather small. Everyone here gets around by foot, golf cart, scooter or bicycle and the occasional car and it is a “free for all” type of driving. The concrete roads, no make that pathways, are narrow and not a lot of room. Can you say defensive driving! So I rented my bicycle and off I went to explore on my own. My first stop was the bank to get some lempiras (the local currency). Wouldn’t you know it; no one behind the counter spoke English. Luckily there was a gentleman in line next to me that spoke both English and Spanish and translated for me. It turns out later that that this same man is one of the locals I will be getting together with regarding his horses and is just right down the road from the Eco Lodge where I am staying:>) So anyway, I got my bicycle for my stay, my lempiras, and ready for my adventure. I was to be at the stable at 3PM today. When I got there, no one was there, only someone else that didn’t speak English. I was looking for the owner Ron. Thru something that resembled charades and very little Spanish words I knew, they got Ron on the phone for me. He came in a bit, as did the stable hand that is a local and speaks both languages. His accent was heavily Creole English like from New Orleans. Can you say “ ya mon” :>) So we made plans for me to come back the next day Saturday and begin training.