Wednesday morning, we got to sleep in. We had gained an hour overnight, and our excursion didn’t leave til 11. I was too excited about being in Honduras, though (my first visit to Central America!), so I got up at 8, showered, put on my bathing suit and sarong, and sat out on the balcony, staring at the mountains off in the distance. We were going to Roatan, an island off the coast of Honduras, but you could see the mainland from the ship.
Roatan didn’t have its own tender service, so we got to ride in the lifeboats. The whole way there, Wendy and Matt and I giggled about hopping on the Royal Caribbean ship and stealing rolls for the Costa staff to eat. It’s a long story that’s probably only funny to us. Pulling up to the dock, we went right under the bow of the other ship.
The port area in Coxen Hole consists of a giant tent full of vendors, a bar, and a parking lot full of shuttle buses. We were really hoping to get on the Jesus shuttle, but we ended up on a school bus instead. We all got wristbands for Tabyana Beach, and we were off.
We drove along the coast down toward the West End. The homes outside the little port area were as expected: ramshackle buildings on stilts, with laundry hanging all over the place. It wasn’t actually as depressed as I’d have expected, but the whole island is really resort-oriented.
We headed uphill through the interior of the island, and the bus ride all of a sudden became a roller coaster. The bus would come up on a tight curve slowly, the driver would try to peer around the corner, then he’d sound his horn (which was modified to be a LOT louder), and go tearing off. We went up and down really steep hills at alarming speed; I think the bus just needed the momentum to even keep going. It was awesome.
At the top of a big hill, the driver stopped to let cars pass. The view was amazing, and reminded me of Maui.
We passed through the shops and restaurants in the West End, and arrived at Tabyana Beach around noon. I was so excited, I wanted to climb out the window rather than wait for everyone to get off the bus.
We had to stand around and wait for an attendant to get beach chairs for us, but that was fine because there was a bar right there on the beach. I’m considering that as a career option, actually.
Once our chairs arrived, I took time only to throw my bag and towel on one of them, and take off my shirt and shorts. I couldn’t get the in ocean fast enough.
Wendy and I agree that the day we spent on the beach in the Dominican Republic was one of our favorite days ever, so we couldn’t wait to repeat it. This time, though, there weren’t even tiny jellyfish in the water. It was absolutely perfect, and we were even allowed to bring our drinks into the ocean.
We spent a lot of time just bobbing around talking. We practiced wrestling moves, and I killed Cindi like an alligator. I attached myself to Matt in ways that would otherwise have been inappropriate in public. We took off our bathing suits and held them overhead just like I did in the DR. When we ran out of beverages, Cindi yelled, “WALTER!!!” and our server waded out into the water to take our orders. I could maybe live in Roatan.
After a while, we decided to take a break from chilling in the ocean, and go visit the souvenir shop. I’m pretty sure everything in the entire place cost $2, except for the coffee Matt got, which was $6.
The reef is only about 50 feet from the beach there, so we’d thought about renting snorkels. They were $10 each, whereas a kayak was $15. I was nervous about it, because I figured we’d flip over or something. Matt promised we wouldn’t, so we rented a 2-person kayak and set off to see the reef.
Holy crap, it was amazing. I loved it far more than canoeing, and it felt even more steady. In places, we were only a few inches above the reef. I stuck my camera underwater and took pictures.
We returned the kayak with about an hour left at Tabyana Beach. We ran back into the ocean, and it was there that Wendy and Matt and I invented SEAPOUND. It’s not as dirty as it sounds.
wendy doesn’t want to leave
We got out of the water with enough time to catch one of the last buses. SIGH.
sometimes after a few cocktails, drinking 2 beers at the same time seems like an awesome idea.
have i mentioned that i’m madly in love with this boy? because i am.
We took the rollercoaster bus back to the port, and had a small amount of time to check out the shops in Coxen Hole. We headed into a big building full of little market stalls, and picked up a few more souvenirs. I’d have liked more time to see the town, but that’s good reason to return!
We tendered back to the ship and had some quality meat-locker time til about 7pm, then went to the card room to play Oh Hell. Jones came by and showed us a card trick; it was pretty much the cutest thing ever. We then headed to dinner in the restaurant, and they’d outdone themselves.
I had a fruit salad, a fruit soup that tasted like pina colada, a salad with balsamic vinegar, and a risotto cake with sweet potatoes, cranberries, almonds, and dandelion greens. Everything was amazing. In the middle of dinner, the staff started marching around, and a group of waiters went up to the balcony for SEXY DANCING. So funny.
After dinner, we went to find Pete. He was just waiting to teach us dirty words in Italian.
pete’s italian lessons
Our favorite was vafanculo, the Italian equivalent of ‘fuck off’. When Cindi asked him how to say ‘blowjob’, he told us he’d need to go consult the magazine in his cabin. While we were sitting there, Jones came by to tell us the disco was open, in case we didn’t know!
We didn’t want to go to the disco that early, so we went upstairs to see Niner. There was a guy on the violin accompanying a pianist, and a few people sitting there watching. After a while, we realized everyone was gone, and the two musicians were practicing together. We wanted to take credit for clearing the place out. Also, Jumi got lei’d!
We headed down to the disco, where people were actually dancing for once. We met Rob, Chris, and Barbara (known as Jersey and his crew). Jersey requested the Cha Cha Slide (you probably know this as the ‘everybody clap your hands!’ song), and knew the whole dance routine. By the end of the cruise, we’d seen him do it multiple times, and now the image of a ponytail boy from New Jersey dancing a stiff cha-cha is conjured every time I’m at a basketball game.
Wendy was doing her best to make sure we drank every single beverage on the drink menu, so she stole a sip of Chris’ Budweiser. I was dancing barefoot, and Disco Selva had officially become the Gay 90s. We even had lemon drops. When Soulja Boy came on, we all went out and danced, following the Helper Monkey’s lead. Arsenal and Man U were upstairs watching, but refused to come downstairs and dance.
We left around 2:30, knowing it was going to hurt the next morning.