Honduras: In and Out (12/1/10)

El Amatillo

This border is notorious for being a difficult, expensive ordeal. I couldn't find anything definitive on the latest situation, so I reasoned things may have improved now that the CA-4 has had time to be implemented. Not!

Jose hanging off my car

My drive down from Perquin was pleasant and uneventful. As I approached the border, though, that instantly changed. There was a long line of trucks to park behind at which point I was swarmed by young men wanting to help me cross. I had not used these "services" before and had had no problems. This felt like a different cat to me so I hired Jose for $3 to help me. He put his feet up on the rock rail, held onto the tent frame and we drove right to the front of the line. The El Salvador official needed two copies of my vehicle permit and there is a small building nearby, 20 cents. He signed and dated the paper and then I drove some distance to the real border at the river. Jose at this point rode in a tuk-tuk ahead of me. Here at the customs building a woman at the El Salvador window scanned my passport and I was free to leave the country. Simple, it all took less than 20 minutes.

I'll say this about El Salvador. Though I was leery at first because of all the guns, this country was friendly with mostly good roads and not a single police or military stop over some 500 miles. I really like it there and I would go back. And my total cost to enter and leave was less than a dollar, only needing to pay for some copies.

El Amatillo ground zero

At a nearby window was the Honduras customs. Here they check your passport and the fat guy hands you a little piece of paper that costs $3. Next, you drive forward over a crowded bridge where Honduras awaits. A cop checked my papers and then we went forward into the busy mess that is the El Amatillo border area. I won't go into all the minute details, it's boring. But, it took nearly two hours of handing over papers, doors closing where my forms had to be filled out in private, copies, copies and more copies, a checking of my vehicle (do I have any whiskey?), much hand-wringing on my part, and lots of money.

One fee, for my vehicle (I think) was about $35. Another fee was $45. I don't what it was for, but I got a receipt for it! The "receipt" game is pure bullshit. Everywhere they tell you to get receipts, and I think it's generally a good idea, but here they play the game to their full advantage. On the way out, there is a fumigation fee. I thought it would be about $3; today it was $17. I didn't have any change at this point so when finally paying Jose I asked if he had change for a $20. He had $3. So another $17 and the grand total came to about $125!! I felt like the new inmate being told to play "pick up the bar of soap", and I probably set the record for payouts at this border. At this point I would recommend to anyone to figure a way around this hellhole. You remember that song "Social Science" by Randy Newman? Add a new lyric:
                                       
                                     Boom goes El Amatillo...
                                     (and all the sleazy fucks who live there,
                                     including the crazy bitch who kept harrassing me)

San Lorenzo

I had to drive thru 4 police stops in the next hour. Every one wanted to look at my papers and they all wanted to know if I had "triangulos". I had read of this trick when researching the trip, so I had a fire extinguisher and the 3 road triangles needed in case of a road breakdown in the back. I could see the disappointment on the their faces as they had to kiss a free $10 (or whatever) bribe away. One cop asked me for $10 straight out. He said it was for lunch. I had had it so I played dumb ("no entiendo") and he finally let me go. Assholes!


view towards the San Lorenzo port from the hotel

None too soon, San Lorenzo and the hotel I had found on-line are upon me. This is the main Pacific port of Honduras, but I found it surprisingly small and quiet, albeit hot and steamy. The hotel is owned by an American expat who first came down as part of the Peace Corps back in 1963. He's a very nice man, but the hotel has seen better days. Lots of squawking parrots (one could say a very cute "hola") and macaws in cages, peeling white paint, ants in the room, lizards crawling on the restaurant ceiling. Real nice, it felt like I was in a Graham Greene novel. Sleeping well was out of the question as was using the shower. And the locals speak quickly with a difficult accent. Might as well be Chinese.

Bottom line, the Honduran Pacific coast just isn't worth it. I didn't see any of the beaches, but no beach could be worth the trouble. There are countless others to see down the road. The next morning I grabbed 5000 Lempiras (about $250) from an ATM for the trip back north in a few months and headed to Nicaragua, an hour and half drive thru pretty, rural country and it was only in the upper 80's. I'm happily writing this from my new room in Leon, Nicaragua.