Gunning Through El Salvador and Honduras

Having spent a considerable amount of time in Guatemala, roaming, criss-crossing, stopping for a spot of Spanish, climbing and descending, we decided it was time to put the hammer down somewhat and shoot through El Salvador and Honduras. It feels like a shame to rush through a country, or even two - however, there is always more to see than time on a trip permits and so El Salvador and Honduras drew the short straw and were not blessed with our presence for long.  

Now we have passed through them unscathed, we would like to thank all the kind people who felt compelled to send us links (e.g. this chestnut) telling us that Honduras has (by far) the highest murder rate in the world, with El Salvador well up there. This certainly put some fuel in our legs and helped propel us through them quickly. However, it was also interesting to observe how much our preconceptions of a place can alter our experience of it.  Aware of the importance of maintaining caution in places that present more of a risk, we also felt very aware that the vast majority of people we would encounter would be ‘good’ people - as in any other country, going about their daily business, with their own interests and concerns, with the usual mix of people not at all interested in us, and those that would show us unexpected kindness.  The question was as to whether our own insecurities would hinder our ability to recognise that, and in doing so, fail to identify and appreciate the kindness of strangers in our determination to ’protect’ ourselves from the one or two ‘bad’ people that might be more interested in causing mischief.  (Interesting contrasting that with Belize, which we were only to realise later is such a big hitter on the list). In addition, images of Ross Kemp in flak jackets, following riot police into gang dens in El Salvador and Honduras were firmly and annoyingly stuck in our minds. Silly Ross Kemp and his silly gangs. 

As it turned out, having spent a little over a week in the two countries, we never felt threatened, saw nothing that was more dodgy than any other small towns in developing countries and we had some lovely conversations with smiling and cheerful locals (although we did notice amust uncommonly high number of funreal directors). However, we can't deny the relief in crossing the border into Nicaragua (notable by its absence in the above mentioned “World’s Most Dangerous…” links) where we felt our blood pressure and adrenaline drop - and were able to recognise that we had felt a bit more stressed and nervy whilst we were in El Salvador and Honduras. This seems a shame in hindsight, but maybe it was this additional caution and care, not to cycle through larger towns, not to go out after dark, to minimise the expensive gear we had on show that meant we had a seamless passage through. Chicken and egg. Pollo y huevos.

In plotting our route through El Salvador, we had two options - a more northerly route, taking us up into the mountains, passing volcanoes and lakes and along more traditional roads through market towns; or the more southerly road, following the coast and passing though a number of surf meccas. Having had our fill of volcanoes, lakes and markets in Guatemala, we decided on the flatter, faster latter option, picking out one surf spot towards the end of El Salvador to rest, practice our lingo (fast sandy point break, hollow take-off, tightly held wave, rad etc) and try to stand up on a surfboard. Having cycled hard for a few days to reach this beach paradise, Ali went and stood on a stingray after tumbling around in the first wave. This resulted in no more surfing, much pain, an injection in the backside and a more holistic remedy of sticking his foot in a tub of boiling water with oregano (who knew?) to suck out the poison. This provided a good excuse to spend the rest of the day in the hammock, drinking beer and margaritas and reading our kindles.

Wistful Pelican

Idle Boat

Erm...no comment

The following day we cycled to the border with Honduras, spending a night in perhaps the largest hotel room we have ever set foot in -  with enough space for two double beds, a hammock and a game of indoor cricket. The following day we crossed into Honduras.

Deteriorating Wicket

How long do you have to spend in a country to legitimately say you’ve visited it? Often a quandary for the connecting airline passenger (Spend the night? Leave the airport? Drink a local beer?), our bee-line across the narrow 150km of Honduras that separates El Salvador and Nicaragua left us asking this question. We managed 25 hours, two locals beers and a night sleeping in the spare room/chicken coop of a Honduran/Spanish family. We think we can say we have been to Honduras, but not to form any sweeping generalisations of the place or the people, which we love to nonchalantly and inaccurately do of the other countries where we have spent longer. The night with the local family (organised through Warm Showers (link to other blog)) was a real pleasure. The mother, Carmen, was a Spaniard from Seville who had lived in Honduras for 31 years and was the perfect example of warmth and hospitality. She was great at using mimes alongside her Spanish to help us understand her complex conversational gambits (we covered Honduran literacy, Margaret Thatcher and her views on socialism). Entertainingly, she also had a lens missing from her glasses and a top row of false teeth that kept dropping down as she spoke - all-in-all, a delightful character.

Carmen in her pyjamas

This chicken was obsessed with nesting in Lizzie's pillow

The following day, we finished off our mad dash across Honduras, through some beautiful countryside, and entered country number six - Nicaragua.

Sunrise Over Honduras

An unexpected and additional highlight of El Salvador and Honduras was finally managing to meet some other cycle tourers to ride with and share stories. Whilst bombing along in a torrential downpour, we heard a shout from a shelter beside the road, slamming on the brakes we skidded to an unsteady halt to find Andrew and Amanda, two Canadian cycle-tourers who have been going for two years (and thus know a lot more than we do - it’s been helpful to learn how it can be done, although they are carrying a guitar and a body board which we are quite happy to keep off our extensive kit list) from the top of Canada. Since then we’ve done a bit of leap-frogging each other, shared some riding (whilst our conversations with each other are still scintillating, fresh and exciting this has been a welcome break that has made the miles roll past much quicker) and even a roof over our heads. We hope to see some more of them over the coming months!

Andrew and Amanda - Obligatory Photo of Other Tourers (Ali didn't get the helmet memo)