Copán Ruinas

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cop%C3%A1n)

Just your average weekend lay ahead as I gingerly crept into the bus after zero sleep from a night of rum and salsa. It was 4am and a 6 hour bus journey panned out. I passed out arriving at the interesting Guat-Hondur border. Easy crossing even with a thumping headache, result. As the bus swung in, I headed straight for a coffee bar to admire my new picturesque surrounding of Copán; home of the former Mayan ciudad.

I grabbed a typical Honduran meal of plantain, meat, rice, chilli sauce and re-fried beans before stumbling across a cool snooker hall, sharks everywhere. The place was packed out with old men on stools clutching Salva Vida beers, young men in flannelette shirts and moustaches holding pool cues to their shoulders. All wearing the Honduran moda; huge cowboy hats and big guns draped over their belt. I spent the remainder of the evening talking to locals, mainly about Tottenham´s Honduran jugador Wilson Palacios, whilst sipping nitro strength rum as the sun slowly dimmed into a crescendo.

Some Hombres pondering life as the bus swashbuckled past.

Awaking the next day, fresh as a daisy I must recall (a la Deep Dasgupta), I hailed a tuc tuc (the Americas equivalent to a tuk tuk) heading for the old Mayan conurbation.

I tried explaining to my guide that my township is also old and was built by the Romans. He was not loving that.

 The screech of macaws overhead bellowed out as I walked through the great ruins of Copán, their red tails trailing behind them like a plane tugging a banner. 

Finally working out how to blur on my camera.

On Seb Tanas´s advice

Ears the size of Ed Miliband

 
 

The intricate carving of the stelae (gravestone slash big stone with inscriptions) in the courtyard, the huge hieroglyphic staircase jumbled by archaeologists, the tombs and the tunnels, the massive tree roots snaking through the rock and the trees towering above the ruins as conquerors. I was in Copán.

The sun rose like a salmon melting the lushious vegetation, our guide expressing how the rich used to live in the city and the peasants in the hills, how times change, er! I walked with sheer admiration of the Mayan engineering and astrological prowess as my camera flashed and clicked its way round the truly breathtaking ruins.

The money shot - no literally this is the picture on the 1 Lempira note.

Weekend over, I jumped on another bus back to Antigua, Guatemala. More stamps and another 6 hour bus journey was shortened by the small facet of meeting a fellow Cheltonian. Strangely, as the bus ricketed over the cobbled stones of Antigua it felt like I was home and back to normal life. More classes awaited.

Hasta luego de Mincho