Gypsy in Roatan - Food Gypsy

Strangers, Family & Friends… in Paradise

Published On July 13, 2010 | By Gypsy | Central America, Travel

Roatan Honduras hits me like a heat wave.  The island itself enchants and as we land sweet tropical air fills me with ease, it was a bumpy ride.  We arrive after a full day in transit. 

Our last night in Havana was supposed to be a sexy romp in old Havana but a stay at the Historic Plaza Hotel can put anyone off “sexy”.  It smelled like cheese, and not in a good way.  We changed rooms and while that was marginally better we slept little and rested less.  A hot sticky morning in Havana and a backroom adventure in Cuban cigars had me reeling and the long day of travel ahead did little to improve our collective moods.

Delays.  Overnight in Costa Rica, which was a pleasant surprise (highlighted by “Denny’s” – amazing what you miss while abroad) which ended the as we boarded the plane we were told one of our pieces of luggage would not be flying with us.   So much for fun.

Then there was the issue of a ‘dangerous’ football, which had to be deflated before take off – or it won’t fly.  Never mind that they flew us there… which seems not to matter to TACA Airlines.  (yes, that’s TACA Airlines)

In hindsight we should have refused to board the plane, straightened things out with the ground crew and traveled on the next flight.  But off we went, back tracking through El Salvador it was four countries in two days.  The beaches of Roatan, Honduras were a welcome sight, one we needed, as my traveling companion Texas, was in a foul mood as he filed paperwork on his missing bag containing, well… his life.

“Why are you being so NICE?!” he snaps at me.  Sometimes I think he forgets I’m Canadian.

We have to be nice, or they take away our passport.   I let him be the bad cop.  It’s working.

When we leave the airport we have three bags instead of four.  We have no local currency.  We have no reservations and no idea whatsoever.  This is not how I usually travel.  I like to know.  I love to plan.  Winging it… it’s my new thing.  Somehow we wind up on the most beautiful stretch of beach in the most perfect place, I feel like family here.  (West Bay Beach, Bananarama Resort & Dive Shop…)

Clean clothes are found for Texas, as he has only what he has on.  The kindness of strangers never ceases to amaze and Texas goes to find his Zen in the deep.  As a diving professional, he’s always happiest when he’s wet.

There is a feeling of everything working out, of the road that was bumpy being smooth once again.  Floating in the Caribbean, buoyed by salt water I lean back and float, reminded how well supported I am by Universal forces.    

Think I’ll stay for a while, make some new friends.  Let everything work itself out.  (I HAVE INTERNET!)

It’s not such a bad place to be.   

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About The Author

"Gypsy" is not my real name." A freelance food & travel writer & photographer based in Aylmer, Quebec. Corinna Horton trained at Le Cordon Bleu, spent five years as the owner of Nova Scotia's Dragonfly Inn, and is currently between big, shiny kitchens as she focuses on family and what's next in this delicious life.

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