Honduras - The Rocky Road to Nowhere

October 21-22

Hello everyone!

El Salvador is bordered by two countries. Having gone north to Guatemala earlier in the year, this holiday was going to be spent going ‘south’ (which is actually to the east). The main destination is Nicaragua, however to drive there you first need to pass through El Salvador’s other border: hello Honduras!

The Gulf of Fonseca

El Salvador and Honduras have a somewhat chequered history. They once briefly went to war in the aftermath of a football match, and don’t really see each other in the friendliest of lights. Nonetheless, they are part of a regional association (which also includes Guatemala and Nicaragua), allowing people easy travel between the countries. 

The war lasted about 5 days

El Salvador is over there!

We have seen Honduras before. In December, we visited Conchagua and slept atop its eponymous volcano. From there you have a fantastic panorama across the Gulf of Fonseca, which has Honduras on the other side. Our target for the weekend, partly to break up the otherwise long drive to Nicaragua, was a Honduran section of the Gulf of Fonseca.

Our visit to the area in December 2022

The land way in the distance to the left, which
looks like a haze, is roughly where we are now

Even so, this was quite a long drive. Getting from Santa Tecla to the border took the best part of four hours, even with little traffic to navigate on a Saturday mid-morning. We arrived at the border at around 2pm. The crossing itself was swift, taking about twenty minutes to both exit El Salvador and enter Honduras.

Spoiler: it took longer than what Google suggests

The Honduran border

From here it was a surprisingly smooth drive to a town called Choluteca. The roads were flat and of a good quality, not what I had been expecting (we’re always told that El Salvador has the best roads in Central America). From there we headed south to a village called Monjaras. Then we turned right…

Lovely, smooth roads!

Not lovely, not smooth excuse of a road!

We had been told the last section was off-road and that it would be useful to have a 4x4. Though it is the back end of rainy season, we didn’t expect enormous puddles to start submerging our Suzuki. 

This is what they were like the next day

We were bumping and skidding along reasonably slowly and noticing that people on the side of the road were pointing at the front of the car. Initially we assumed this was because of the El Salvador licence plate. Eventually, feeling a little bit nervous about so many people doing this, we pulled over to have a look. We didn’t spot it at first. I’m not sure how we didn’t…

Luckily, not a vital part of the car

Yes, we had been dragging part of our chassis along the floor. Probably for quite a while. I got down and realised that it wasn’t a vital car component - all we needed to do was remove it. This eventually happened with the help of an old man with no teeth in the middle of his mouth. He had told me he was going to cycle back home to get a machete. He came back without one and was able to do what I couldn’t - fiddle enough to yank it off. 

Pedro was able to help us

This meant that we were now very much chasing daylight. The off-road drive (which Google Maps claims should take about 50 minutes) took well over an hour-and-a-half, with me trying to simultaneously drive carefully and drive quickly so that we weren’t having to traverse mini lakes in darkness. 

Accommodation seems expensive in Honduras - this fairly basic
place is more expensive than anywhere we were staying in Nicaragua

We arrived in darkness, meaning that we couldn’t initially find our accommodation and that we couldn’t see much around us. Turns out even in the daytime, there isn't much around in Playa Punta Raton. We were staying in the middle of nowhere. 

A pig sitting in the mud to cool off

The main beach area: deserted until lunchtime

I knew that we weren’t heading to a particularly hopping spot. I didn’t realise how little there was in Playa Punta Raton. One church, a couple of little shops mainly selling crisps, one ‘restaurant’ which only seemed open at lunchtime and when they’d caught some fish (delicious, mind). We were lucky that the wife of the guard in our accommodation was happy to cook for us for a small price. 

The local church

A Honduran tipico dinner - the breakfast
we had was remarkably similar

There is a charm to this, of course. There was nothing touristy about the place. Only two times were we really ‘accosted’. The first was when a little girl ran out of the church and hugged Hannah. The second was when an obese man called Douglas showed us where to sit to get the fish and then chatted at us whilst sipping a beer he made me buy for him (his accent was thick - he made ‘Gareth Bale’ sound like ‘hamburger’). They were both funny and positive experiences.

The police station

Enjoying a cerveza with an amazing view

It meant that we had this incredible view pretty much to ourselves, save for the locals who were swimming in the tepid waters lapping the shore. 

The big island I think is called Tiger
Island, also belonging to Honduras

A fishing boat skimming the warm water

It meant that we could sit on an abandoned and crumbling veranda to take in a stunning sunset.

To the left of me were a lot of broken tiles - this
balcony must have gone out further in the past

Stunning

It meant that we were able to switch off from the world to an extent. Admittedly, with Hannah needing to do a lot of digital work, this wasn’t ideal. We got around that by me standing on the beach next to the water, which meant that I could get signal from El Salvador to access my data (mobile internet doesn’t work regionally for a pay-as-you-go customer) and then hotspot her to access the material she needed. When that expired, we were able to switch off and enjoy the view.

Loading lessons from a hotspot off my phone
which was getting signal from across the Gulf

A short walk away from the beach found an equally lovely sight. One possible reason for the underdevelopment of this area is that it is in what I think is a protected reserve: Reserva de Vida Silvestre Los Delgeditos. I ended up running - then later walking - through a wetland area which oozed tranquillity. 

Plenty of birdlife in the reserve

I don't know whether I was allowed through the gate - I'm glad I ran in!

Once we’d arrived, Playa Punta Raton was a peaceful and beautiful spot. Isolated and hard to get to, it was a world away from the hustle and bustle of a major city, and a lovely place to start our latest trip. The car probably didn’t appreciate it as much, though…

Beautiful nature reserve

Beautiful shoreline and view

Beautiful...I'll let you fill in the rest :-)

Love you all,

Matt

El Salvador - Conquering Peñón de Comasagua

October 1

Hello everyone!

I ran a race today near a village called Comasagua. I should have run it 12 months ago. It’s a pretty place which has a big rock on a hill. 

Big rock

View from atop the big rock

I’ve been here before, actually. In order to share the full story, we need to travel back in time. Strap in!

Whoosh!

Welcome to March 2023. On a warm Wednesday after school, a group of us decided to head west from town along some windy, undulating roads to reach the village of Comasagua. Though only about 20 km to the west of us, it took almost an hour to reach due to traffic in Santa Tecla. 

Closer to Comasagua, traffic disappeared. Thankfully.

The town is down a slope from this point

We were going to hike Peñón de Comasagua. Essentially, this is a large rock with a cross on top. Reaching the summit has been made easier by adding steps to the side of the rock.

View to the west

Hiking up to the top with snacks and drinks

I don’t know why there is a cross on the top. What I do know is that the views are mind-blowing.  

The colours were incredible

Watching a wonderful Wednesday disappear

I'm not laughing at God!

Alas, it isn’t always this serene and picturesque. Let’s go back a bit further…

Whoooooooosh!

It’s now September 2022. I’ve been in El Salvador for a little over a month and am keen to get running. A friend and I signed up for a run in an unknown place called Comasagua, which looks quite close to Santa Tecla.

Comasagua's main street: small

That run gets cancelled a week before. Here’s why…

Comasagua suffered significant damage during two heavy rains in September and October 2022. The former, which resulted in the army coming to help with the clean-up, led to the postponement of the race by a week. We already had plans the following weekend, resulting in the company offering to defer our entries to the 2023 race.

I was at Lake Coatepeque that weekend

Back to the present…

Another whoosh!

September has just turned into October. I’d love to say that means autumn is here but that’s not really how it works when your country sits inside the tropics. A 45 minute drive (mercifully traffic-free as it’s Sunday and before 7am) took me to Comasagua.

About 325 people did the 12km run 

I say traffic-free. Though there weren’t as many people as in other trail races I’ve done since arriving in El Salvador, there were enough people to swarm a little village nestled in the valley of multiple hills. This made parking tricky, and resulted in me having to park a kilometre out of the centre, across the road from a cemetery. A man in army uniform with a large gun said I could park there, which was nice.

How the buses navigate these streets, I have no idea

Having registered over a year before, I wasn’t sure of what distance I was doing until the day before. Nursing a dead leg from football, I was glad to discover that I hadn’t been ambitious/arrogant/idiotic (delete as appropriate) enough to sign up for anything longer than the shortest available distance: 12 km. Which, of course, was actually a little over 13 km. They did at least say this on the website!

It was only when I collected my bib that I knew I was doing 12km,
they hadn't responded to my questions before that time!

12...but really 13.2

My run started at 7:30am. The positive of this was actually having a lie-in compared to my regular working start. The negative was that the Sun was already feeling quite strong. Still, away we trot, heading towards that enormous rock in the distance.

Pupusas for sale near the start. Quite a few runners
were eating them 15 minutes before leaving...

Unlike the previous trail run in Ataco, this one started by going downhill. Quite steeply, and for quite a long time. This led to the implementation of what I feel is a national tactic when running of ‘sprint-as-fast-as-you-can-downhill-and-then-walk-uphill’. 

My Strava tells me that we dropped 150 metres in less than 4 km

This pink-flowered tree was a pretty sight

After a couple of kilometres, a right turn and dirt road take you up to the entrance of the ‘park’. For a second I was transported back to Malawi, running through fields of maize. An incline, at which everyone around me started walking, which possessed lovely views.

This maize had been harvested - taller grass came closer to the rock

The Pacific Ocean was part of the view on the way up

Once through the corn, you see the Peñón in all its glory. It looks particularly stark and resplendent with a blue sky behind it. Quite tall as well.

Running towards the rock

It's hard to see but there is a man
up there shouting down at us

I knew that the run incorporated the peak of this rock. I wasn’t sure how it would work with people running up and down what I remembered to be a narrow set of stairs. The railing was useful!

The man running down, in leopard print
kit, is a regular sight in these official races

After reaching the peak and getting checked off by a race official, it was time to take in the feeling of being on top of the world. The endless Pacific Ocean to the south. The miles of greenery and forest in the other three directions. Not a breath of wind. Hardly a sound, save for one man egging his friend at the bottom on from the top.

If you travelled due south from this point, the next land
you would hit would be the Galapagos Islands!

Taking a breather to enjoy the view

After coming down the rock, I was expecting to be heading uphill to return to the village. The fact that we veered left and continued downhill for a while made me realise that the last few kilometres may be quite steep…

Proper camera folk were positioned on the way back

In reality, it wasn’t particularly steep or slippery, with only one section threatening to put me on my rear end. The paths were fairly narrow and I understood why the race had had to be postponed briefly in 2022 - slipping down the sides of some of these hills would be fatal.

At 8km, we were 801m above sea level. At 10km we were at 963m...

Trails: narrow

A slow return up towards the village, a couple of final steeper hills, one minute lost when I couldn’t work out that I had to go around barbed wire…and done. Comasagua: conquered.

I imagine this wouldn't have been passable in September 2022

Medal with a time of 1:36:17

A year in the making, but an enjoyable run through the small village of Comasagua. Stunning at sunset, and rewarding if running before.

A lovely spot relatively close to the city

Peñón: completed it

Love you all,

Matt