Winter Term in Roatan: Part 3

Sunday was our last day in Copán, but it was one of our longest days yet. Before heading back across the country to fly to Roatan, we had a field trip Macaw Mountain Bird Park, a local avian sanctuary.  However, we weren’t getting there by bus — instead, a convoy of “tuk tuks” was waiting for us outside our hotel. Tuk tuks are a local form of transportation, like pedicabs or rickshaws in other parts of the world. 

I ended up squeezed in the back of one between two of my classmates, but once we started moving I was quite glad I was in the middle, despite having nowhere to hang on. Our driver floored it, the three of us passengers bouncing clear off the seat over every bump. Much like our bus, the tuk tuk wove in and out of traffic at break-neck speed, only it was much more nerve-wracking when there’s nothing but a seat and a rickety open frame between you and the street.

If the ride seemed treacherous in the city, it got even scarier in the mountains. We passed the turnoff to the ruins and continued up a narrow, cliff-side dirt road. The tuk tuk’s engine groaned laboriously as the driver coaxed it upward, pedal to the metal, diving left and right out of the way of oncoming vehicles, horses, fallen rocks, and potholes in the road.

But the adrenaline rush was fantastic. I was almost disappointed when we finally arrived at the bird park, literally fishtailing to a stop in the gravel driveway, spraying rocks against the side of the gift shop. We were the first tuk tuk in the convoy to arrive, and our driver seemed pleased.

Once everyone arrived (some a little shaken!) we embarked on our tour of the bird park with a friendly young woman as our guide. She told us about the diversity of birds in Honduras and that Macaw Mountain works as a rehabilitation center for many wild species. The park also serves as a nature reserve, and the avian enclosures are all arranged along a trail that follows a winding river.

Among the birds at the park were a variety of toucan species, macaws, parakeets, amazon parrots, owls, and raptors. I was continually amazed by the diversity of colors, shapes, and sizes of the different species. Call me nerdy, but coming from a place where the most successful species are those that camouflage with their environments, it was incredible to think about the evolution that led to the survival of such visually outstanding creatures.

After the tour, we loaded back into the tuk tuks (my group made sure to get our same driver again) and took off for another white-knuckle jaunt down the mountain. Going down was even faster than going up, as we hurtled over the bumpy dirt road, leaving the others in cloud of dust. This time, we arrived at the bottom of the mountain several minutes before the others, and met our bus in the parking lot of the Copán ruins. My hands were shaking as we left.

And so off we went again, three hours back across the country to San Pedro Sula. As any traveler knows however, nothing ever goes as planned. Although we arrived what we thought was 2 hours before our flight time, it turned out we were a half hour LATE! Furthermore, the plane was too small to fit our entire class, so we had to split up — I went with the majority of the students on the first flight, but our professor and the rest of the students had to wait behind for the plane to drop us off, fly back, pick them up, and fly back to Roatan.

The plane was very small indeed, but the pilots had waited for us (since we were pretty much the only passengers) and as soon as we were on they closed the door and took off — no safety briefing, no seat belt checks, and we were off the ground in seconds.

The loud drone of the engines, the stuffy, un-airconditioned cabin, and my own exhaustion from the last couple days made me incredibly drowsy but I forced myself to stay awake as we passed over the beautiful country.

As we descended upon the Bay Islands — made up of Utila, Roatan, and Guanaja — I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The water was clear enough to see to the bottom. It was more spectacular than a postcard, and I could hardly fathom that something this pristine actually existed.

The landing strip was right on the coast and it looked as if we were coming in for a water landing, but at the last second the runway came into view and we bounced to a stop. After making our way into the tiny terminal, we found everyone’s luggage, and were greeted by a host from Anthony’s Key Resort, who pointed us to our transportation.

The short bus ride to the resort showed us a very different view of Honduras than the one we saw on the mainland. Although it was still very poor and undeveloped, there was an obvious Western influence; huge mansions stood alongside slums, and fancy hotels and resorts were next door to little neighborhood markets and shops. Here, however, almost everyone spoke English, and there were a lot more tourists.

Once we got to the resort we were treated like royalty, which also made me a little uncomfortable. We were given “welcome cocktails” of fruit punch and rum punch, given a brief orientation, and then assigned roommates and handed keys to our cabins.

Our living quarters for the week were on an island accessible only by boat. The cabins lined the perimeter of the key, standing above the high tide line on stilts, and in the middle of the island was a pool and bar. In order to call the boat taxi, you would have to bang on an old dive tank on the dock, ringing it like a bell that could be heard by the boat driver anywhere across the lagoon.

The girls were all staying in a complex of 4 cabins conjoined by a central covered porch with three hammocks. We had the best view by far, looking out over the open water of the Caribbean with a view a neighboring key to the west, right where the sun set. With our windows open to the cool seabreeze, each night I was lulled to sleep by the incessant roll of the waves crashing on the rocky shore outside.

As if a final welcome onto the island, we were treated to the most beautiful sunset of the entire week, that first day. The colors were spectacular, turning the clouds and sky the most vibrant orange and yellow I have ever seen. Paraphrasing what I wrote in my journal that night, if this day was to be any indication of the week to come, we were all in for an incredible adventure.