We’re basically settled in here now in Siguatepeque. It’s the same place that we’ve stayed at before (and I dare say that we always will; Just One seems to have some sort of relationship with the folks running this place. I want to say it’s a family-owned business, but I could be wrong), but not quite. At least, now I have a slightly different perspective.
Last year’s room was to the left and around the corner. This time around, my room is basically right in the middle of this photograph, on the second floor. Although, now that I think about it, it might be obscured by the post.
The view from the room is different, too. Rather than the parking lot and the sculpture of various tropical birds in a tree, this one overlooks a soccer field and a helicopter landing pad (which I hadn’t remembered from last time). The sky is a mildly concerning shade – I know the line about red skies in the morning – but it seems to be dissipating already.
There are still far too many beds in this room, but this time, it’s only three as opposed to four. The fourth has apparently been replaced with a wardrobe, but sadly, there doesn’t seem to be a forest within it that leads to Aslan’s kingdom. To be sure, there aren’t any fur coats (who would need one in Honduras, anyway?) that could be mistaken for fir trees, either, so there’s that.
The shower is on the opposite side of the bathroom, too; rather than being in the interior (where I’m standing to take this picture), it’s by the window. Not only does this offer better ventilation, but there’s actually a place to set soap and shampoo.
And rather than be able to hear the sound of several of our number congregating after the events of the day (such as they were; most of it had ‘only’ been spent traveling, after all, which could be considered an ordeal in and of itself) from my room, there is a rooster that seems to think that its job of waking the neighborhood starts when the day turns over from the previous one, shortly after midnight. I used to think that they were always yelling at the sun to not outshine their own magnificence, but when the sun isn’t out yet (and won’t be for another five or six hours), I’ve got nothing to explain this one with. If it weren’t for the fact that it would be an expensive proposition to do so (relatively speaking), I’d be surprised that the family who owns him hasn’t turned him into soup by now.
Then again, maybe they’re used to his antics by now.
Then again, some things don’t change; I try to get to breakfast early, in order to properly linger over it. Despite showing up fifteen minutes into the service, only Mike had arrived.
The food is lovely as always (including omelets and empanadas, neither of which I’d seen before on offer), if surprisingly a little tepid at this early hour. Then again, they had been serving breakfast for fifteen minutes already – and I’d spent a little time after that running down coffee and juice – so I can’t blame the restaurant for that.
All in all, it’s very much the same… but not quite.
And that’s all I have for you at the moment, honey, since I have to run now. Keep an eye on me, and wish me luck, as I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 