I woke up this morning with stomach cramps and nerves. If only the sight of paradise did the same for your own mental state of being. I spent all night with bad dreams depicting worst case scenarios in my real life and was feeling the after-effects of fear and loss. I had slept through my alarm (or the alarm wasn’t set right, who knows?) and I missed the boat to go snorkeling. I didn’t feel too horrible about it considering my stomach was in knots and my mind was telling me to go hide in a hammock all day.
Siobahn brought me out of my personal pity party and invited me to breakfast. We went to Bundu Cafe. Horrible service, free wi-fi (with purchase!) and a decent cup of coffee make this place…not horribly bad. My breakfast was great but Siobahn didn’t get her breakfast until I was well finished with mine. Hilarious, considering her breakfast turned out to be a bowl of fruit and two VERY measly pieces of shriveled French toast. One look at her poor breakfast and I burst out laughing. Which, I immediately repented after being given the opportunity to share some fruit. Thanks, Siobahn!
Given my current state of emotional affairs, we got onto the topic of past relationships and what we’ve learned (and not learned, HA!) and where we are at now. In the words of the great waiter in Old School, “Love…it’s a motherfucker.” I suppose if it were easy to find the right person and live happily with that person, we wouldn’t appreciate it so much when and if it does occur. Siobahn told me of this woman from the UK that went through a life upheaval and had to go through the delightful phase in life of “starting over.” She decided to take it to a blog, or better, a website and created an online network for women she entitled, “Unravelling.” It’s an online workshop where you reflect, learn about yourself and in my words, “get your shit together, man.”
Siobahn suggested I start a grassroots style ‘unravelling’ in my new hometown. I had told her a little bit about my book club leadership stint (holler, ladies!) and she thought it would be a good thing for me to try and get into. I don’t disagree. I think it would be kind of awesome. But how to do it without getting sued?? Or, more importantly, how would I create a program for women like me to bring women like me into that next stage of life when life didn’t go exactly as your Type A personality had planned? Still thinking this one over…
We walked back to UWV and I did some packing and checked out of my room. After lounging one more time in my favorite hammock and looking lovingly one more time out on the bluest ocean, I hitched my pack on my back and started heading down the road again.
Siobahn joined me at Munchies, which is at the crossroads for the ferry, for some scrumptious Oreo milk shakes and to pass some time before my ferry. I popped a dramamine (no repeats of the arrival ferry!) and said goodbye to my new friend. I got on the boat, went straight to the back and laid down. All suggestions to avoid seasickness. I fell asleep through the trip and arrived UNSICK and safe on the other side. Score! My taxi dude, Raul, was supposed to pick me up at the ferry but he didn’t show up. I grabbed a taxi with a local woman and her daughter and, lucky me, a Korean backpacker heading to the same place as me. I asked the driver how much the trip would cost (ALWAYS do this before getting into the car) and he told me 100L. I balked! It should be 50L. I told him I knew what the price should be and he told me he would take me for 70L. I looked at the woman in the car, who smirked and held up a 50L note, I looked back at the taxi driver, then looked back at her. No way was I going to be taken on this one! I just survived a ferry ride without throwing up! I asked the woman in a loud voice, “How much are you paying?” She said 50L. I pierced the taxi driver with my eyes and said, “She pays 50L, I pay 50L.” Then I got in the car.
On the ride to Banana Republic, I whispered to the woman that I didn’t have change for my ride. I asked her if she would trade me 100L for the 50L and just pay for the both of us. I think she liked how I was trying to win one over on the cabbie because she readily agreed and laughed. This was one of those instances in Honduras where I was happy to know Spanish well. She got out, paid for the two of us and we continued on to Banana Republic. I was dropped off with no questions or looks from the cabbie so I walked in to the hostel, dropped my pack and headed back out to find the beach during sunset.