Bus System

I assumed if it was the right bus it would stop at the bus stop. I also assumed we were at a bus stop. I also assumed there were bus stops.

Fortunately, as we were watching the bus about to drive by us, Gio had the inclination to throw up his hand. It must have been a sight to see for the locals.

Two Gringos standing in the rain on the side of the road with unusually large duffel bags wrapped in black trash bags, Gio holding his less than heterosexual umbrella, and me wearing a garbage-bag poncho trying to decide which one of us looked more ridiculous. We jogged awkwardly up the road with our bags, which they crammed up front as they hurried us on to the bus.

Here’s what I think I learned about the bus system in Honduras:

There are different lines. For example one line could take you in a fancy double-decker bus from San Pedro Sula to La Ceiba for $28. Another line still used bus stations, sold tickets in advance, showed Jean-Claude Van Damme movies on a miniature TV without sound but with subtitles that mostly fit on the screen, and would take you from La Ceiba to Tela (about half the distance to San Pedro Sula) for about $6. Overall, it was a nice line. Then there were the buses of the people. These for most distances I found cost 12 Limpiras (about 60 cents). The White people I talked to referred to them as “The Chicken Buses.” They came in many shapes and sizes with the most notable type being the abandoned U.S. school bus.

Once we learned this system I found it to be quite effective. As far as I could tell there were no bus stops or bus schedules. Anywhere on the route was a stop as long as you were there and flagged down the driver. It was a two person operation. One guy drove and the other manned the door. He opened the door and hurried the passengers on, and sometimes even closed the door before we took off on the road again. All stops were brief and efficient. Once the bus was driving along for a while the door guy would go through and collect money from all the people that had yet to pay.

On Gio’s birthday we had to take three different buses to get to the waterfall. It was fun experience. At one point five of us piled in to a 15-passenger van that already contained 15 people, and I’m not even sure that at that point it was considered full. 12 Limpiras each. We rode in an old yellow school bus that still had a sign in English up front that read “keep our children safe.” We never waited more than fifteen minutes for a bus, and the bus never waited more than 15 seconds for us to get seated.

Bienvenidos a Honduras.

One guy told us we could get from the Lake back to San Pedro Sula in just a little over 30 minutes. The girl at the hotel told us it would take about 45 minutes. Our taxi driver from the day before estimated the trip at an hour and a half. As we got on we asked, “San Pedro Sula?” They verified as they threw our large bags up front. There were two empty seats on this small bus/van. Gio took the one in the second row and I sat two rows behind him. As I sat there awkwardly trying to rip off my poncho without hitting the guy next to me or bringing extra attention to the fact that I was wearing a large garbage bag, Gio turned around and made eye-contact with me and flashed me a thumbs up as if to say, “We made it.” And only two hours later we were there.