Lago Yojoa 05/12 - 05/15/2014

 

On the ferry from Utila I decide spontaneously to make - following a tip - ​​a stop in a suburb of La Ceiba, because there shall be the hardest rafting in Central America. I'm going to a partner hostel in town to get some information.

The manager tells me, that he’s just about to drive to the river and can give me a ride. Perfect.
 

Obviously the Mother's Day is celebrated here, too.
 

Interesting hostel. Uphill are the sleeping tents.
 

After all, I've got one for myself - and with a fine view.
 

The way from the main house however is a bit difficult.
 

Speaking of the main house. The restaurant with the view of the Rio Cangrejal.
 

The bar also looks nice - unfortunately without drinks and service.
 

So I go to the river where the kids have their fun already.
 

Cliffjumping again.
 

As a reward, I’m invited to a birthday party with cake and Cuba Libre.
 
At about 6 PM I want to order something to eat, but no one is on the property. Neither staff nor other guests. This does not change even up to 8 PM and I 'm getting really hungry. Also thirsty and my water is getting low.
 

In addition, there is no more toilet paper.
 
   
I don’t want to eat frogs, so I leave to find something to eat, drink and wipe.
 

My shoes unfortunately are in the locked main house, so I have to take care when I don’t want to become a mass murderer.
 

Next problem: The gate is locked, so I have to climb over it barefoot (barbed wire!).
 
After a few hundred meters I find the (double?) hint to life.
 
There is indeed an (expensive) restaurant - run by a German. Among the already high prices 15 % tax will be added. I can not express how much I hate this scam. But my hunger is too powerful to follow principles.

In our conversation he confirms to me that the river due to lack of rain only provides an average rafting. Although I especially came here therefore, according to the motto that you should not throw good money after bad, I decide to leave the hostel early tomorrow morning.
 

It seems really not plausible that this river could be a death trap.
 

So I walk back towards La Ceiba to move on to the next destination.
 

Catering.
 

Start of a twelve hour bus ride.
 

Including waiting time, of course.
 

They won’t starve, either.
 

Arrival at the Brewery Hostel. (Confusing sign - it means: take a right and then another 350 meters straight ahead.)
 

Quite nice for a brewery. But the beer is very expensive!
 

Without (more) words.
 

Beautiful sitting area around the fireplace. Unfortunately, in the evening always occupied by kids.
 

A walk along the canal to Lago Yojoa.
 

Even the locals have fun hiking.
 

Dense green, as so often. Although I never know if these are parasites or all part of the tree.
 

This bridge is not allowed to enter without a ticket, according to a sign. But how shall I get one?
 

It would have been annoying, if I would have bought one: a rather uninteresting excavation site.
 

Granted, the march on the bridge through the jungle is quite nice.
 

Back on the path (foundation of the city wall) to the lake.
 

Later, there is only a very small path.
 

Then things are getting complicated.
 

The Guide of the tubing troupe knows the way, but I'm on the other side.
 

And so it looks like there. But in the background you can already see ...
 

... the Lago Yojoa.
 
 

A frugal dose of sea fauna.
 

On the way back I take the route along the stream.
 
 
 
It’s not really more exciting.
 

Next short trip: a coffee plantation.
 

Here also is water scarcity.
 

There should be a river.
 

The vegetation is not impressed by that.
 

Here is not only coffee growing.
 

Entrance to the meeting place (as I said: coffee plantation)?
 

The next day I go with a German (no names) past this beautiful cemetery to the city.
 

Stop at the bank, where he once again tries to cash traveler's checks.
 
Interesting procedure: The guard outside tells to leave the bags outside; you can put them in the locker, if you want. Then he gives his okay and the guard inside the bank opens the door. But if you plan to rob the bank, it but would be no problem to smuggle a weapon maybe in your clothes into it.
 

We go on to this fine waterfall (Pulhapanzak).
 

Looking for a different viewpoint ...
 

... we find this official path. (There must be a reason that the fence stops there!?)
 

However, they could quite have given a little more effort.
 

From his perspective ...
 

... it looks like this.
 

There’ll be a time when I fail = fall.
 

One last frontal view (in which one is soaking wet even from a distance of several meters).
 

The restaurant on site offers nothing too appealing.
 

So we make our way home. At this intersection actually the bus should come.
 

Instead José stops, who takes us in his truck and entertains us wonderfully.
 
 
In between, he stops short, so I can take pictures of this water pumping system (for electricity).
 

The next day the other German and me travel together with an horrible Englishwoman on to Nicaragua.
 

The last stop in Honduras (Tegucigalpa) is a McDonalds. Born out of necessity - but I enjoy it!