There are buses down to town but no one wastes their 20 Lempira on what is inevitably an uncomfortable ride in a bus full of sweat and watermelons. Most of the time we take rides up and down in the back of a pick up truck for free. The dirt track down the hill is in such unbelievably bad condition and at intervals it disappears completely so the ride is always a rocky one.
My first week, I clung to the side of the truck like a limpet. It wouldn’t have even occurred to me to stand. However, I find I am starting to master the art of balancing on the side as we swing around bends. I often stand up and watch the road over the top of the cab. By the time you jump out at the bottom of the hill you’re covered in dust and have ‘Bridget Jones hair.’ It´s certainly not a look for the vain, but everyone here travels like this. Sometimes you find yourself sat in the back with a whole family, chatting away. All while you cling on for dear life.
We have internet here but it’s desperately slow on occasions. Aside to that there is no mobile coverage and no landlines. At times the total lack of available communication is interesting. Of course the upside is that you do not have to tolerate the almost constant twittering of idiots on mobiles here that you do in England. You can also go about your day largely uninterrupted and you quickly rediscover the lost art of planning ahead.
Predictably I am being eaten alive. This is pretty much par for the course whenever I leave England and you quickly become accustomed to being red and ´bumpy´ from the
bites of the hordes or insects that try to eat you alive every second of the day. It takes a bit more time to get used to the way locals laugh out loud at you and make comments
about gringos whenever they see you applying repellent or suntan cream. However
they’re right, I am a gringo and I do look a tad out of place.