On the Road to Sunjam
The sharp “BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP” of my watch pierced through my hazy sleep and announced that it was 4:30am. The moment I had been dreading was here. As predicted, waking up was painful. I had pulled the “stay out late, sleep on the bus” routine before but every time I wondered what the hell I was thinking. I felt like I had been punched in the face, run over and subsequently dragged several miles. So painful was it that I thought, “You know what? Death sounds pretty good right now!”
But the show must go on. I mustered all of my remaining might and willpower and managed to hastily pack everything up. My mouth reeked of morning breath, since I couldn’t brush the night before, so I made my way to the bathroom with toothbrush in tow. God dammit, the water was still out. Fuck it, I had bigger things to worry about than morning breath, mainly the half mile or so trek to the bus stop.
I strapped on my sack and staggered over to meet up with Caroline and Martine. They had no idea about my ant ordeal and when I retold the story, they bent over and nearly died of laughter. When things like that happen, you just gotta laugh about it. The shit you run into on the road, if you don’t take it with a slice of humor, will drive you literally insane. We stepped out into the cool early morning air and began the hike to the bus station. While cobblestones are charming to look at, they can be a nightmare to walk over. I had on my Haviana sandals and every couple of steps I thought I might break an ankle. The lack of light and sleep coupled with a hangover obviously didn’t help but you have to wonder how many ankle injuries occur in a town like Copan.
After about 10 minutes we made it to the Hedman Alas building. This is where I thanked my earlier self for making the right choice in regards to bus companies. Hedman and Casasola both served the Copan – La Ceiba route. Casasola was the cheaper option that I took while coming here. Going back, I decided to go with Hedman and not just coach, but VIP. It was expensive ($31) but I was high rollin': full cama, refreshments, food, straight up Argentinian style. You see, I had planned this out perfectly; call it a method to my madness. I knew that I was going to have a big one my last night in Copan so I made sure I had comfortable seats to sleep in the next morning. The suffering would only last from when I woke up in my hostel to when I fell asleep on the bus. Transportation and rejuvenating the body? Two birds with one stone.
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I spent the next 6 hours in a state of half-sleep, half-consciousness. We eventually made it to La Ceiba around 2pm. La Ceiba serves as the portal to the Bay Islands and has ferries running to both Utila and Roatan. It was to my disappointment that my Danish friends were going to Roatan, not Utila, but such is the way of life while backpacking. People come and go and friends are sometimes made and lost in hours. It can be very ethereal at times but it makes you really enjoy that shared moment. The reality is, the majority of people you meet on the road you’ll probably never see again in your life. But what makes me happy is knowing that you’ll always have that one moment, one place, one time encapsulated in your mind, forever unchanged, untainted, as pure as when you were there.
I waved goodbye to Caroline and Martine and headed to the port for Utila. The next ferry would not be until 4pm so we had a couple of hours to kill. Because Sunjam was actually a pretty big deal in Central America, tons of people had come from all over the region and the port was packed. 4pm came and Jonas, the Irish and I boarded the ferry and headed off to what promised to be a wild couple of days.