It’s over. Our Roatán vacation ended on Tuesday when Rigo came to Turtle Beach to take us to the Roatán International Airport. That’s not its official airport name, but with all 4 gates, you get the drift.
We got up at roughly 6 am in the Monkey Lair, slowly ate and packed up our things, and then about 9 am or so, donned our swimsuits and went down to the palapa. Nathan paddle boarded a bit, and I just read my sad beach book. I say sad because by the time we got home, the photos from the middle of the book had fallen out, and the cover had fallen off. It’s a rough life to be a beach book.
By 10 am, we went back up to the room, showered AND put on deodorant, and packed up the last bits of our stuff. We ate our lunch at 10:40 or so and polished off the last of our watermelon.
Rigo came to collect us, and of course, it was raining. So we piled in the van, all while trying not to get wet, and drove to Coxen Hole and the airport. Rigo informed us that the woman who won the presidential election won in 17 of the 18 departments. So, not only did democracy prevail, and the first woman was elected president in all of Central America, but she did it in a landslide. Hopefully, this is a big win for Honduras.
At the airport, we checked in, were issued our paper boarding passes (!), and were instructed to present ourselves to immigration and customs, or vice versa. Instead, with $40 worth or so Honduran Lempiras, we shopped the two stores outside of the secure area. We managed to offload $30 on a long sleeve t-shirt for Nathan, and then we walked through the various checkpoints and into the secure area of the airport.
Denisse had WhatsApp’d that morning to let us know that she had sent our Roatán Marine Park bracelets with Max’s sister Abby, so we found Max & Abby and retrieved our bracelets.
We shopped a little in the secure area of the airport and managed to spend the last 88 Lempiras ($3.66) on chocolate bars (we had to supplement with American $), and sat down to wait for our flight… when who shows up? The American a-hole from a few days ago who was gonna walk out on their food and bill in West End. Oh, jeez, he said he was from Texas, and now he’ll be on our flight. Great.
We got called up to board, and after showing our boarding passes, passports, and Covid tests again, we walked out onto the tarmac and climbed the steps to board our plane.
There was a brief kerfuffle as United personnel came on board and removed a passenger who was seated behind us a row, but oddly enough it was not the obnoxious Texan…who has made an impact on everyone seated near us in his brief time on the island. His momma must be so proud.
The flight took off and was uneventful. From my perspective, even the obnoxious Texan was on his best behavior (not saying a lot…) but perhaps not, because as we deplaned in Houston, he was getting an official talking to by the United personnel there. Again, what does your momma think about all this?
In Houston, we had to (first, go pee!) clear customs and immigration, which was easy due to Global Entry, and then pick up our bags and redeposit them with United. Then, inexplicably, as somehow in the very secure, can’t even use your cellphone, area of the customs/immigration/international baggage claim area of the Houston airport, you become unsecure, and have to go through TSA screening again. I’ve never understood this, as literally, you come into contact with no one who is not a US government or United employee. And btw, there’s no TSA Precheck in the area they funnel the international travelers to. Jerks. Probably someone without a passport, and one of the myriad reasons I avoid Houston connections AT ALL COSTS when I have the option. This was like this in 2016, and it’s still like this now. They could fix it…They choose not to.
We managed to clear all of the stressful, governmental checkpoints and headed to C39 where our Denver flight was to take off from. We had about 20 minutes to grab a quesadilla from a restaurant and then hustled to get into our group 2 line. Max, Abby, and their parents were there as well, and I took much satisfaction knowing we were leaving obnoxious Texans in Houston where they belong.
The flight to Denver was uneventful, but hot as hell, (hello, mosquito bites, yo! Some AC please?), and we landed in Denver 20 minutes early. The bags arrived at baggage claim without too much to do, and our private shuttle ride home was right on time, but not early. We got home to discover the house just like we left it, leaf bags and all, and began the gradual process of getting back into the swing of things.
