The capital of Honduras has many American fastfood chains, lots of street crime, and a very silly name. Once again, you never know what to expect when they tell you it’s a taco.

On the ferry from Utila every gringo with bare ankles had the raw pox of a week of sandflies, mosquitoes, coral, and god knows what else itchgivers. I am not alone!

Also on the ferry were two very familiar blue t-shirts with VOLUNTEER in white across the back and a little hand thingee. When confronted they appeared to contain two british guys, accompanied by a third without the tell-tale shirt. They were in Honduras doing conservation projects through i-to-i, the same organization I worked in India with. On Utila they fed iguanas. I never got to do that. Street children are almost like iguanas I guess. These guys were going back to Tegulcigalpa and were already familiar with it, so I decided to tag along with them. I met their coordinator, who knows my coordinator. That only makes sense, but is still WEIRD so weird to meet someone who knows someone I know in India in Honduras. See, even the sentence about it is weird.

Last night I was looking at their South America guidebook (they’re flying off to Quito, I think). Right after I got my camera stolen I was starting to think that going home relatively early wasn’t such a bad idea. Now I want another year to travel. Too much to see! Well, I’m obviously a terrible judge of what I want. Gotta see what reality ends up saying about it all.

They not only grow good coffee here, but they seem to know how to make it. I’m a happy little man.