Honduras

(SORRY NO PHOTOGRAPHS - STOLEN)

Now this is one tough country. Poor but with the added dimension of having a hard frontier aura.
The border crossing took me most of the day. Motorcyclists from around the world who have been to the americas, in their blogs, share their experiences and border crossing are always a big issue because of the corruption. One motorcycle rider said that we owed it to one another to remain strong and resolute in not encouraging corruption. That was what I resolve to do.

The border was crowded with queues of truck and cars. Men standing around in groups smoking and talking. Food stalls set up on the roadway. Vendors of all sorts using the hard sell for their goods. Men and women claiming to be accredited officials with photo ID come running at you to assist you through the border.

I rode my bike to the first official looking building I could see. It turned out to be the El Salvadorian Immigration office. The woman was friendly and told me that I had missed the vehicle inspection and had to go back down the road about 150 metres to have the vehicle checked and papers signed off. Did that no problems. Returned and got the passport stamped.

Please pass into Honduras - good luck. Why did she say that?

Rode my bike past all the cars and trucks while dodging the photo ID wielding so called officials. Presented myself to a female immigration officer who took $3 USD, gave a receipt and stamped my passport. She instructed me to present my motorcycle for inspection to customs.

So far the whole process has taken forty minutes.

Why is every second or perhaps third person carrying a weapon. A shotgun seems to be the weapon of choice. Those machetes look grim and why here at the border.

The customs office is crowded with truck drivers, money changers and a mass of humanity. I get myself in a queue while all the time fending off ten, fifteen, twenty men touching me, shouting at me in an effort to drown others out. All of them wanting my business by assisting me through customs.

Standing resolute and ignoring these attempts to get my business I work my way to a window only to have it shut in my face. The person inside simply smiles, shuts the window and walks away to join a group of other customs officials in conversation. I stay at the front of the queue believing that after a break the official will return. The locals laugh at the gringo and say you must have someone to assist but no I am going to remain resolute.

An hour and a half has lapsed at customs and I am no further advanced. I move to another window. That official, a woman, leaves the window and walks out of the office to inspect a vehicle. Stepping in her path as politely as it can be done I get her attention. She does not understand a thing I am saying and I don't understand her. She indicates towards one of the photo bearing so called officials. Pretending to not understand I hand her my passport, drivers licence and registration papers with photocopies of each. She takes them and hands them to this shifty helper - now this scam artist has my documents.

He speaks very poor English and tells me that he will help BUT it is getting very late and the bank where all monies have to be paid and receipted is closing soon. I take the documents from him but he is wearing me like a skin and others of his ilk move away.

Another hour and it becomes even more obvious that I am not going to get through this border without paying well over the official amount. The officials seem to be working closely with others in relieving gringos from their money. Sorry fellow bikers but I paid $55 USD in total - don't know what the official amount is.

Got to the city of Choluteca just on dark and found a safe place for the night with the help of an English speaking pharmacist.

The hotel had huge steel gates that enclosed a court yard. Very glad of that because a huge crowd gathered on the streets to see the gringo and the grande auto. The owner let a few of his mates in to have a look and take photos. No water in the shower recess in the room not even cold - what the?? Watched the locals carry a bucket to an open concrete water trough. They scooped up water and carried it to their room. When in Rome?? Had a wash out of a bucket.

Restaurant next door convenient for a feed. Asked for menu in my limited Spanish. No menu. You have what is being cooked or go without. Ill have what is being cooked thanks. Turned out to be rice, black beans, white cheese and chicken drumstick. Coca Cola tossed in and it cost me the sum of $35 Limpera. That is a bit less than $2 AUD.

Intended to go to the capital city of Honduras but it meant a return trip of about 250 kilometres and out of my way. Headed towards the Nicaraguan border.