Not just another… Hole in the Wall
It was an adventure just getting there, two hours by scooter winding over pot-hole ridden jungle roads of Roatan, down a steep gravel path rutted by recent rains, through the fishing village of Jonesville, to the boat dock, where we hailed take a water taxi to the floating restaurant known as The Hole in the Wall, Roatan.
Whew. I’m beat just writing that.
Open for lunch and dinner, famous for their all-you-can eat BBQ Sunday dinners and Lobster Fridays, the Hole in the Wall, along with one gift shop is the only concession to tourism in Jonesville and everyone is more than willing to point you in the right direction or take you there by boat.
The floating, open air dock pushed up against the other side of the bay on Blue Rock perches on the edge of the mangroves where the pirates that once inhabited Roatan would simply… disappear… the Hole in the Wall is the perfect place for a cold beer, a hand rolled cigar (compliments of your host, Bob), you can write your name on the wall, like many before you or contribute a t-shirt or licence plate to the colourful decor.
Dam if they didn’t have rather a nice Chilean sauvignon-blanc, first decent wine I’ve seen in weeks, it’s been tequila in Mexico, rum in Belize and Cuba, now in the heart of pirate country and I’m sipping a lovely white with club soda on the side. “Arrrr… wench, bring me me spritzer !” No? Not making the pirate cut? Well, there’s always tomorrow.
My friend Texas, raved about the cigar. Still moist and fresh… he went so far as to give it the “great smoke” award besting even the Cubans he’d just bought days earlier. “A free cigar in the middle of nowhere Honduras and it’s the best cigar I’ve smoked in years.” My. High praise indeed.
But… where’s our food?
It was also, I thought, the perfect place for a Blue Cheese Burger. Juicy, tangy, salty… it was a gorgeous burger. Should be, it took forever. In fact I went to ask about our food after about say – an hour – and was told that they had run out of potatoes and had to go get some for our fries. (Ooooookkkkkkkk.) Which begs the question… where did they go for potatoes? One of life’s great mysteries. Good thing the fries rocked. Crispy shoestring fries. Salty. Real Heinz ketchup. Thought I was going to go out of my mind.
Did I mention that hunger had set in on the journey? I could have eaten the hind leg off a donkey.
Done right, really there’s nothing quite like a great burger it is my great indulgence, in fact by now if you’ve been reading along you’re wondering “Geez Gypsy, ever eat anything OTHER than burgers as you traveled central America?” Hell yea! We’ll get to that. But THIS was perfect.
Seasoned beef, creamy blue cheese dipping down my hands, almost didn’t need extra goo. (but I had it anyway) The menu is deeper than just burgers and sandwiches – giant salads, seafood, fried chicken, pasta, tacos – islanders rave about the lobster and the BBQ on Fridays and Sundays (the mere mention of it made me crave ribs). Perhaps I’ll have to make another trip to The Hole in the Wall… on a Sunday. Reasons to return to Roatan – like I needed any.
An adventure I won’t soon forget.