Up at 5:00 AM - I don't want to miss the ride to the airport at 6:15.

Breakfast is pretty nice. Great coffee in silver urns at each table. Fresh orange juice, pastry, fruit. All this in a little dining area with a crystal chandelier, table cloths, heavy silverware and, that final determinant of class, cloth napkins. I think about having someone take my picture sitting at the table, pouring coffee from the silver urn: "Here I am in war-torn El Salvador".

This is a map of San Salvadore (The Capitol of El Salvador) (Or is it vice-versa>) Anyway, my hotel was Number 11

The transportation back to the airport is a large bus. It seems that the flight crew stays at the same hotel. The bus also makes many stops along the way to pick up people that work at the airport. It's an interesting ride back to the airport. Some nice areas and some not so nice. Certain areas remind me of Los Angeles or Galveston. Some nice wide boulevards with palm trees and people jogging in the middle. Some of the streets have almost a formal garden look. Then back to grinding poverty.

I'm still impressed with the airport. Very well managed, clean, open, coffee shop, liquor stores, etc. I buy a pound of espresso coffee and resist the temptation to buy other kinds as well. I know that I'm going to buy more of the espresso that I like from Honduras so I decide to pass on most of this stuff. I don't have a lot of empty space in my baggage.

I'm still a little concerned about my passport. What if it's not at the airport? What if all this was a scam after all? What if I'm stuck like the guy on the MTA? What if they deny having taken it? I wave my yellow "Turisto in Transit" at the gate. Two ladies (one of them beautiful and English speaking) wave me over to "migration". What if the lady there doesn't speak English? Is there going to be a lot of red tape? Will I have to pay a bribe to get my passport back?

My passport is the only one there. After looking me up and down she hands it over and I'm on my way. I'd like to stay a little longer (especially after discovering the beautiful gatekeeper) but I didn't bring my book on Central America - only the one specifically dealing with Honduras. Another lesson learned.

This is the watch I'm trying to find. Analog & digital, 5 different alarms, stop-watch, etc etc etc

While touring the departure terminal I find a watch that I've been trying to find back home. It's a Casio style that I really like - kind of a combination of analog and digital styles. I broke mine playing beach volleyball. I decide to wait until the return trip. Why drag it through several customs operations, etc. etc. Hope I have enough time on the way back.

The flight was short - about 30 minutes. The flight attendants were once again male and once again very efficient. Serving everyone drinks and snacks even on that short flight - AND you had plenty of time to enjoy your drink/snack.

I'm sitting next to a girl from Norway. She speaks English somewhat better than I speak Norwayese. She's on her way to Rotan from Costa Rico. She's a secretary for a Japanese automobile importer/distributor.

We're both confused about where the plane is going to land first. She thinks San Pedro Sula while I think Tegus. She convinces me that it's going to be San Pedro Sula. I start admiring the communities outside of San Pedro. There are some mighty nice places outside of this town - I've got to get down here some time. Then we fly over a stadium. Wait - I've seen a stadium just like that. The stadium that I know about is in Tegus. (It's the one that I saw after getting out of the taxi in the wrong city.) Well, look at that - there's also a river running through downtown San Pedro Sula. Just like Tegus. There's even bridges arranged like Tegus. We land. It is Tegus! I bid her good-by and good-luck.

The terminal is the same as it was last time. The only difference that I notice from the outside is some guy in black fatigues. He's got a large German Shepherd with him. He (the guy not the dog) is wearing a cap that says "Narcotics". The inside of the arrival terminal is pretty much the same. Still the same 2.5 lines. (2 for non citizens, 1 for citizens, 1/2 for diplomats) My line moves pretty fast. I even get some sort of tourist booklet from the Passport stamper person.

They've improved the customs area somehow. I think they have better equipment. It seems to be arranged differently. Anyway, I walk up to one of the customs guys - no line. He gives me a stamped piece of paper, ignores my bags, I give the paper to the guy at the exit door. He unlocks the door and I'm outside the terminal.

Once again there's a few offers of "Taxi" and "Cambrio" but I'm generally left alone. The people outside seem more interested in waiting for relatives and friends than in whatever I'm doing.

I decide to fish my shades out of the bag. The sun is pretty bright and I anticipate sand or dirt blowing into my contact lens. I head down the street to the main drag. I can catch a taxi there for half the price of a taxi at the terminal. It's only about 50 feet.

For some reason, I don't know why, I decide to walk the 6KM into town. It wasn't a decision that I came to. It's more like it slowly developed as I walked along waiting for a taxi that I liked. Since I knew where I was going and knew about how far away it was and would know it when I got there - I decided to walk along until things started looking unsafe or there was some other reason to not walk. It's a nice day and I'm in no particular hurry. I sure wish that the handles on my two bags were padded.

As it turned out, my main concern was whether or not I would ever be able to use my right arm again. Since I wanted to carry the bags on the side of me away from the traffic and since I walked on the right side of the road most of the time ... anyway, I carried the damn bags in my right hand or on my right shoulder for pretty much 6KM.

What was very interesting about the walk was the area that I had stumbled into last time. (This is the kinda run-down are that I was dropped off in last time) As it turns out, if I had been about two blocks west last time I would have been on a very nice boulevard with wide sidewalks, trees and sidewalk cafes.

That looks like a park ahead. Nice looking place. Looks like a couple of basketball courts. Maybe I'll stop by here again to see what's happening. The goals look kinda strange. I move in for a closer look. I've died and gone to heaven. One of the goals is about 8 ft high. YEAH! The other is probably 9'6". I walk on - resolving to visit soon. There's another basketball court. It's kinda in the center of things. Kinda like center court at Wimbledon. I go over to investigate. The goal there is 8'6". Oh yassss!! I'll be a star!! I love this place!!!

Doing laundry on the riverbanks in downtown Tegus.

On over the bridge and into Tegus. I notice some changes right away. The river banks appear to be cleaner - as if they have been graded or bulldozed or something. There are no vendors on the bridge. None. What's going on here? It seems quiet. What's that? Oh my God! Can it be? Yes it is!! A street sign! Look there's another one - and another one! They're all over the place! I'm not sure I like this. Now any weenie can find their way around.

I see several old familiar places but fight the temptation to visit. First I need to get to the hotel. Sure hope they have a place for me since I didn't arrive on the day promised.

Walking through the pedestrian mall it seems almost deserted - they've apparently kicked out all of the sidewalk vendors. (I notice later that the "Porky's" hot dog vendor is missing) This is not good.

At the Hotel Nuevo Boston. They've got my room. It's got a balcony with private bath. $10.00 A little higher than last time but inflation seems to be a fact of life everywhere. The guy behind the counter speaks a little English. He's not as friendly as the girl was who worked here last time.

I dump my stuff and head back to the parque Centeral. The whole area seems more deserted than my last visit. Of course, that was during Christmas and before they banned the vendors.

The Espresso Americano place is still here - doing a much better business. Double espresso is now 50¢ (I think it was 35¢ last time)

The Piccadilli Cafeteria is still open. Serving good basic food. Still has a nice interior courtyard. (I didn't visit it as much this visit as last - but then I got out more this time)

The Al Naturale has somehow disposed of their rabbits. They now have a small cage with three parrots. Once again I encountered simple basic honesty. I misunderstood the amount of the bill and offered two 10 L(Limperia) notes for the tab. The waitress returned one of the 10's in addition to 3L change. This is one of the reasons I like this place. I have encountered this type of honesty throughout my visits. It's nice.

I make a quick round of the town and head back to the hotel to crash. My feet hurt.

Back out later for more espresso and Chinese food. The lady selling the Chinese decides to correct my Spanish. I can actually do pretty good pronouncing things but I've got the memory of a brick.

Every time I walk down the pedestrian mall I worry about hearing "Rich, Oh Rich!" from my friend of "Honduras 94". Not yet - surely she's moved on - perhaps to Bosnia.

Here's one view of the Parque Centeral. I'm not too happy about the Popeyes being front-and-center. There's a bunch of huge trees behind me and to my left. Note the antenna seller front-right.

While I'm just standing in the Parque Centeral soaking in the local scene (it's a lot more active in the evenings) I hear this voice: "Are you lost?" It's some guy from Cambodia. His name is John. (Hereafter referred to as JTC - John the Cambodian) I explain that "No, I'm not lost. I just enjoy all of the activity." He's a resident of Honduras now but returns to Cambodia every year for a few months in the spring.

We talk about Honduras, Costa Rico, retirement, etc. He's been retired for a few years now. He's got some definite opinions about Costa Rico (mostly negative) and Honduras (sometimes positive). He says that when he lived in Costa Rico a few years ago there were about 30 guys who had retired there. Now they've all left the country. He says there's about 10 of them in Tegus now. They usually get together in some donut shop around 10:30AM every day. I'm going to try to make it if I can find the place.

He's with his lawyer, some guy (I'm not sure if he's Honduran or not) who speaks less English than I do Spanish. The lawyer apparently has the opinion that I won't be bothered by thieves. I investigate further since this is always a subject near and dear to my heart. JTC repeats what I had heard on my last trip: the thieves typically attack only women and drunks. He only knew of one time in the last five years of an American being attacked/mugged. And that was at night when the guy was drunk and in a part of town he shouldn't have been in anyway.

It's about 9:30 Monday evening. From my balcony I can see that there's a lot of people walking on the streets. Most of them seem to be carrying books. I suppose night class is over somewhere?? I had noticed earlier that there's a couple of schools a block or two away. Gregg Business University and another one. About 10% of the people I saw today seemed to be wearing school uniforms of some sort. Each school has its own color/pattern/style.