CHAPTER 11
After seeing the sights of the capital city of El Salvador, San Salvador (there aren’t many), we readied ourselves for what we anticipated to be one of the worst drives of the whole trip. As you all know, the normally inconspicuous country of Honduras is currently experiencing what the experts like to call a “coup d’état”. Though we had talked to a few travelers who had recently been there and even some local Hondurans, all of whom assured us that the situation was calm and that as long as you avoided the capital there really wasn’t anything to worry about, we decided that there were a lot of other places to see further south on our trip, and that troubled little Honduras could wait a few years to be explored by us. Our plan was a simple one: get to the El Salvador/Honduras border early, traverse the narrow finger of the country that juts down into the Gulf of Fonseca, and clear the Honduras/Nicaragua border with enough time to make it to Leon before dark. In hindsight, the day turned out pretty close to what we had hoped for, but at the time, it seemed that trying to cross Honduras in one day was the most foolhardy thing we have tried to accomplish on this trip.
Within minutes of entering Honduras, we were promptly threatened with two different tickets. Using our normal ploy to avoid tickets and bribes, half playing stupid and half readily agreeing to accept the ticket and pay the fine at the police station, we got out of them both. Cops fishing for a bribe will always let you go if you make it clear that you aren’t giving them a penny, but that you are willing to pay the penalty at the station. I think that this is because they don’t want to waste their time taking you to the station, they could be spending their time extracting bribes from other, less obstinate travelers, and if you ever did end up paying anything when you got there, you can be sure that the cops at the station would keep it, and that the street cop still wouldn’t see any ‘sugar’ from all his hard work- so, they let you go. Then came dealing with the border officials, in general a long, tedious and redundant experience, but in Honduras they take a certain pride in making you feel bewildered by their inefficiency. We finally got our 30 day immigration permissions, though we were hopefully only going to be in the country for a few hours. Next came the road side police checkpoints. In the 3 hours it took us to traverse Honduras, we were stopped by no fewer than 12 checkpoints, all trying out their most lucrative trick: checking to see if you happen to have a bright orange safety triangle and a fire extinguisher readily accessible. Most people don’t have these items, and with dollar signs flashing in their eyes, the police will come up with all sorts of fines and penalties, including threatening you with jail time, until you pay them to let you go. Luckily for us, we had read previous travelers accounts of the crooked Honduran police, and had our fire extinguisher and safety triangle at the ready. But even that wasn’t sufficient: one extra thirsty cop insisted that we were actually supposed to have two triangles, and after 10 minutes of debating the issue, he finally just said he wanted some money to buy a drink. Ah, a drink! That I can do. To the disappointment of his wallet, I handed him a cold beer out of the fridge, and we were on our way. He was probably happy though, because that is what he would have used his bribe money for anyways. With only one not-our-fault exception in Panama, that one can of beer has been the only bribe we have handed out on this entire trip- something we are rather proud of. Other travelers we have met are incredulous of our good fortune, but I tell them that it can’t be all luck, you just have to be completely determined to not give in and open your pockets when the situation is starting to look hopeless. A crooked cop can smell your money and will make your day hell if he thinks he has the slightest chance of taking some home with him.
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