Let's see, the church is supposed to be on the north side of the square and the coffee place to the east. Sounds easy enough. Well, the church isn't on the north side, it's on the east. So that makes east south right? Well, there's Burger King, I've been there. Wait! There's a little passageway into the building next to Burger King. Looks like there's a few shops down there. Nope, there's no espresso place down here. Well, well, there is after you get to the end and turn right down another passageway.

Espresso Americano. Very good espresso or perhaps it's because I haven't had any in a couple of weeks. Anyway, I have one (L3.5 = 39cents) just to check it out and then I try to order a double. My Spanish and their English just don't overlap enough. Finally this guy who had been standing off to one side says "Lets see, you want two single espressos in one 6 ounce cup. Right?".

It was the owner. He graduated from Texas Tech. Worked for Texas Instruments for a while before coming back to help with the family business. Apparently, his family has been in the coffee business for 60+ years. This particular place is actually a franchise. Naturally the headquarters is in Seattle.

I ordered 2 pounds of Espresso Roast to take back. I'm due to pick it up tomorrow morning.

Back to the hotel to tell the owner about the place. He didn't know about it either. The one place he knew about had gone out of business.

I knew that the Picadelli Cafeteria is having spaghetti and chicken today for their lunch special. So I head over there. It's 12:30 and there's a line. It's the first time I've seen a line there. They're out of the special. I try some shrimp fried rice. Fantastic. Also some kind of vegetable thing (I think it was carrots) The shrimp fried rice was really great. And along with this some sort of melon drink.

Then to the Parque centeral where they have some sort of stage set up and entertainment is going on for children. Clowns, balloons, etc.

Some guy comes over and tries to talk to me. He doesn't speak much English so it doesn't go very well. He seems friendly enough. I turn down an invitation to go eat, to go get a beer, and who knows what else. He shows me some sort of identification card (perhaps he senses my suspicion). He has some sort of association with the Honduran Institute of something. I'm not impressed - for all I know it might be a library card (of course he could be the President's son also). In any case, I'm only going to be here one more day. He wanders off.

Back to the hotel. The girl from Holland is there in the lobby. She's disappointed that Holland doesn't have a counsel in Honduras. Only an "honorary counsel". Some Honduran who runs a dry cleaning business. She's crushed. She heads off to the cleaners.

It's getting late - I head to the Parque. They're playing bingo or some sort of lottery game on one stage while a band kind of hangs out on another stage. I guess the band will play later. I try to keep my eye on the band as well as some sort of local Indians (Mayan?) who're selling tamales on the street corner. I still want to try some tamales. If I can convince myself that I'll live through it (Or at least that it won't ruin my airplane trip) It would really help if she were selling them fresh out of a steaming pot where they had been cooked but these were cooked earlier and are in plastic bags.

I decide to forget the band and the tamales for a while and try some Chinese food. Some kind of noodles (Huge portion) and some broccoli/beef stuff. (L17=$1.80 with coke) Pretty tasteless after the nice lunch.

I'm trying to figure out where all the military guys were today. I didn't see a single one. The place was crawling with them yesterday. Not sure which I prefer. I felt so protected yesterday.