The day before, Honduras welcomed us with a big sloppy wet kiss in the form of rain. Fortuitously, we had a prearranged refuge from the storm at Nola’s.
We stayed with Jenny in Missoula, Montana and she recently let us know that her aunt, Nola, livs part of the year in Honduras. Her house overlooks the Caribbean Sea.
The previous night, Nola welcomed us with a hot meal and a dry bed. The perfect combination for wet bicyclists. The rooster crows before dawn started to rouse us early in the morning but we dozed to the soothing sound of the surf, which lulled us to sleep the night before.
We enjoyed coffee, fresh squeezed orange juice and swapping stories with Nola over breakfast. She joined the Peace Corps after her children went to college and was stationed in Honduras. The rest of the day was ambitiously filled with lounging, reading and writing, and in-between, some odds and ends.
After some routine bicycle maintenance, I attempted to nurse two old computers back to health at her non-profit organization only to conclude they were beyond easy repair (one had corrupted operating system with no install disks, the other had a temperamental video board that decided to push its last pixel and die just as I was starting to make meaningful progress towards a functional machine).
At dinner on the porch, with the sun setting over the water, and a rum drink or beer in hand, we all agreed that life is good.