The trip there involved several bus rides and random stops
and switches. I was the only one who spoke any kind of Spanish, and I remember
being happy about not having lost the little Spanish I knew in my year back in
the states between Chile
and Honduras . It was an interesting feeling having the
other teachers depend on me to get us there. I still remember thinking it was a
GD miracle we made it. But, we did.
Once there, we met Bob, the owner of the brewery and
hotel. He was everything I’d imagined
and set us up with rooms and then beers, all while The Grateful Dead was
playing through the speakers in the restaurant.
There are rare treats when you live abroad- finding a micro brew and
some Dead were up there with the best of them. I was pretty sure I was in
heaven and vowed to come here often in the year I’d be in Honduras .
Though, I never did make it back.
Bob showed us the different tours, and hikes and fishing we
could do in the area while we started on our second brew. He told us about the Pulhapanzak
Falls that were close to the
lake. And so, as all good travelers do,
we changed plans, forgetting about the lake preferring the adventure Bob was
selling in his description of the falls, which including a climb behind the
waterfall and a cave off of it.
At the falls, we found a young boy, maybe 12 or 13 years old
to lead us through the falls. It was one
of the scariest, most thrilling things I’ve ever done. Walking through the falling water, so thick
you are basically swimming, holding your breath, closing your eyes, climbing
into the cave for a little refuge from the falls, exiting back out and standing
completely under and behind the falls as they tumble into the pool at the
bottom. It was a surreal feeling. Rarely do you get the chance to stand behind
a fall and look out from that vantage point as the water crashes in the pool
and carries on. I’ve never been more happy to veer off course than I was that
day at Pulhapanzak Falls.
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