I promised in an earlier blog entry today that I would include pictures of La Tigra. It was organised by one of Pamela’s close friends Gabriela (feliz cumpleaños Gabriela – it was also her birthday – lo siento que olvidé tu regalito) through her work at Banco Central de Honduras. We set off early on Sunday, which is always a bit strenous on God’s day. But Pamela called a taxi to mine, we met Osman in the centre which was surprisingly busy for 7.00 on Sunday. Everyone turned up an hour late.
I just don’t understand it about Latin culture. I was talking to a colleague about who has lived in the USA who also despises it. There’s no excuse for impunctuality, keeping someone waiting because you believe your own time is more important than the person waiting for you. For me, it’s one of the biggest aspects that I miss about British culture. Lateness brings less opportunities. If one is late for work, repeatedly, they lose their job, so people do their best to be punctual. It’s not the same for friends. It’s as though they don’t respect their friend’s time. In my opinion, those countries that are famous for impunctuality hold themselves back, because punctuality is the best business tool that one can have in every single profession.
Rant over. It’s not aimed at anyone in particular. Just a cultural flaw that I will never, ever accept. It’s a poor excuse, every time.
After a bumpy ride to the Hatillo entrance. Within a few seconds of walking, I came across a wild snake. I don’t know if it was poisonous but I didn’t close. You can see the tail if you look closely.
As we went on walking, Pamela and I fell behind. Pamela self-confesses that she’s not the most seasoned walker, but she did a great job climbing up the hundreds of steps on the cloud forest trail. She didn’t feel too great with the humidity, although she picking me up a couple of times after I slipped on wet leaves, leaving an even bigger hole in my combats and what in a couple of weeks will be a pretty little scar on my right knee. Like many forests, I love seeing the huge wise trees, watching on as tiny people look up in awe at them. It’s like they’re having a fantastic party, especially in the wind. In dense forests it’s like one big constant filthy nature orgy with arms and legs and genitals embedded in one and other, while animals and birds hop around making homes and looking for seeds and fruits. I’m turning into a hippy.
On the way back, we saw a little wild boar type creature in the distance. My camera couldn’t pick it up, but here’s some pictures of the forest.
We made it back to the lodge after maybe a 4 mile walk. I had a deserved baleada, then we went to a restaurant that had about three people to serve two hundred people. We weren’t going to get served anytime soon, so we went back to the city and ate at Burger King. In the evening, Honduras were humiliated by Israel.
Pamela did me proud that Sunday. I hark on a lot that we need to do more exercise, and La Tigra is the perfect place to do so. But for her hard work walking, when we both know she’d prefer to be sleeping, she’s had this song dedicated to her (as well as MUFC fans, just to wind them up). Jerry and the Pacemakers, You’ll Never Walk Alone.
It reminds me of forests in northern Scotland, wet, mossies biting, humid but with a bite of coldness, along with savage wilderness. Ten routes or more and camera opportunities aplenty. More Sundays in La Tigra. The doctor ordered it. I’m now going to include a song by a Scottish band, which is a cheesy song by a cheesy band named Wet Wet Wet. They’re not really known for celtic music as such, but this song reminds me of the celtic countries and standing in cold rain in forests. I’ve no idea why. Maybe it’s something to do with the tin whistle and bodhran. Maybe it’s something to do with showing a video of Marti Pellow showing off his fancy locks. Pammie better get used it all though. Just a month until we’re back. Wet Wet Wet. Put The Light On.