Copan Ruinas, Honduras: Day 7
I’m in love with travel, hiking and exploring the natural beauties of the world, learning new languages, trying things like surfing, scuba and skiing and getting all sweaty dancing to sexy Latin music in the form of bacchata, among others, so you can only imagine what happened when I met an American working in Honduras who has been traveling the world for years like me, can ski, surf and scuba, is hands down the best dancer I’ve ever danced with in my life, whispers song lyrics in Spanish in my ear, is strong and smart and well, in essence, the male version of me. Yes that would be correct! I smothered him from head to toe in mud at the Jaguar Hot Springs outside of Copan. How did you guess? 😉
My two new friends, Lisa and Sean, and I took the 45 min shuttle ride from Copan to Jaguar at a cost of $22/each for entry into the hot springs and roundtrip transport all the while questioning our collective sanity as it was over 100 degrees outside and we are going to get in water that is like 80 degrees at the springs or something borderline unbearable like that. When the water is steaming and the sun is burning, get your head checked. In fact, we probably should “just say no” to getting third degree burns from two
separate sources at the exact same time. But march on we did and it was actually amazing. The springs were shaded by the jungle trees and there was a cool breeze that enveloped us. It was quiet out there. Not many, if any, people were in the various springs we entered. One of the springs was like the Thai ocean – a very luke warm water like bath water. One turned my skin hot pink and I laughingly pretended to claw my way out of that one. The mud bath was extremely nourishing to the skin not to mention how entertaining it was slathering each other with mud. We ended the perfect outdoor day excursion with an outdoor massage. The massage tables are way on top of the hill above the hottest spring out there so the steam opens all your pores and permeates your nostrils and lungs while you lay there in the middle of a jungle being serenaded by the surrounding wildlife drifting into a state of utter euphoria with each rub of your tired muscles. Not a shabby way to spend a Saturday if I do say so myself.
After dinner we three got are proverbial dancing shoes on and I got to try out my new bacchata and salsa lessons on some of the locals but, more importantly, on Sean. And when I say on, I mean on. If you have never seen these folks dance then you haven’t seen sex between two people with their clothes on. It is quite something. In fact, the Honduran and Cuban dancers I’ve seen could infiltrate and take over the porn industry. Watch them and no one will ever need to rent porn again 😉 Anyway, hard to believe a muscular man with unparalleled masculinity like Sean could move like that and to bacchata ballads no less, but suffice it to say I got swept off my feet for sure.
But you know the old saying – “nothing good happens after midnight (unless you are already in bed of course which none of us were)? Well we proved this once again to be true. Being the only gringos, it’s not surprising that we attracted a bit of a crowd leaving the Sky Bar and a drunk crowd at that. The walk to the hotel was short but a lot can happen in a block or two in a foreign country after 2:00 in the morning. We, of course, were followed by the winners of “The Drunkest Loser” – Honduras Edition. I think the goal was to get a rise out of the strong guy to my right which I absolutely did not want to happen, however, some things can’t be avoided. One of the drunk Honduran guys actually grabbed me in between my legs and tried to lift me off the ground. I’ve been here before – sad to say – when I was a young child – and the fighter in me emerged. I kicked him in his ass and hard (sounds silly and when I think back on it more like a scene from a cartoon, but he was a drunk punk and that’s what I did) and I yelled at him loudly and assertively to go away and never touch me or anyone like that again but he wasn’t stymied in the slightest and came back at me. Sean had no choice but to lay him out and with a “tap” on the nose he went down like a sack of potatoes. SOOOOO much blood! I thought he hit his head on the concrete but it turns out when you are that drunk you bleed profusely. If he was hurt, it didn’t show except in his even more pronounced stagger. As I said though, my fear was that was exactly their goal i.e. to enrage Sean and the next thing you knew, all the locals would come to defend their Honduran brother and distract Sean fighting and attack us girls or something. Or that Sean would get picked up by the policia and thrown in some third world cell, key thrown away for good type thing. The good news is my worst fears did not come to fruition. The guys in the pick up truck in front of us saw the whole thing and stopped their “brother” from causing any more trouble and we calmly returned to the hotel. Whew what a night!
That’s all for now from a special production of Honduran MMA – Mud Fights and Street Fights.