It's not that simple to write about a place. It's sort of that like that essay we all had to write in grade school: " my summer vacation" in which sucked all the context, romance and significance out the experience to distill it into grocery list of activities and reactions.
I'm not so good at that so I'll leave it to the guidebooks to distill the places I visited into clearly defined experiences in the making.
But you know. I I know I had fun. I had "experiences" I know I saw beautiful things and disturbing things and they mesh together seamlessly to form my impressions. Lucdicrously pictureque beaches. Incredibly meals. Waterfalls and rainforests and school children hiking in street shoes. Men with machine guns..."the police" patrolling pristine islands and cheap plentiful beer. Emaciated dogs, stingrays, coral reefs, school of jelly fish. Good and bad smells. Terrifying taxie rides and hot sticky walks in the mid day sun.
This is what I have to say about honduras. for now.
But indeed, a picture is worth a thousand words. So...
theres this, and about 150 other shots where that came from...
in the meanwhile, below is my first honduras journal entry, submitted for your approval
and it's personal, but what the hell, what isn't?