Finally managed to leave Utila, only 5 days later than scheduled

One ferry, one bus (collectivo-style), one shuttle, two caminonettas, one border crossing and several painful miles carrying an over sized backpack with a sense of impending dread as night draws in... Who said 'being on the road' wasn't a barrel of laughs?

To be fair, today's epically gaylord adventure (which involved a ridiculous amount of time going precisely nowhere) was preceded by a pretty handy week learning to dive on the island of Utila, just off the coast of Honduras. Somehow, though, it is always easier to talk about things that went wrong as opposed to things that didn't...or maybe that's me being the cynical wench that i am.

Yep, having pontificated on diving as being a thoroughly unnecessary and somewhat terrifying way to spend ones leisure time, ever since doing a 'fun taster session' on holiday a few years back, I just completed my PADI Open Water certificate. Despite the initial pangs of intense fear, compounded by an overwhelming urge to spontaneously throw up into my regulator, punch my instructor and bolt for the surface, I am now looking forward to getting tanked up and back into the sea. The water around Utila is crystal clear and we saw sting rays, approximately 30 bazillion fish, dolphins AND , a whale shark touched my leg (not in a sexy way, as in, it's tail hit me as it swam past).

The Utilan accent is excellent. Every time you think you get what's going on with it, it transforms. The combination of Afro-Caribbean, American and Spanish influences combine to create a malleable and incredibly unique language. When we went to watch Utila play San Pedro Sula, at football, the mixture of dialects was incredible, and massively confusing. One minute, you could have been watching a Celtics game, the next, well...you could have been pretty much in any country in the world - Dick Van Dyke - formerly holding the title for most bizarre accent of all time, 'fankoo Mary 'oppins' - ain't a patch on these people. As an aside, the woman selling the tickets had the must humungous shelf-like breasts I have ever seen. She literally kept all the tickets and change just balancing there, under her chin. Practical I suppose, work with what you have and all that.

I am spending the night at some shifty hotel in Peurto Barrios on the East Coast of Guatemala. First thing tomorrow I'll catch a lancha to Belize for some more sun and sea action. And, fingers crossed, tomorrow's journey will be rather less sketchified than today...however, after an awesomely cheap 15Q supper of frijoles and heuvos over which I chatted to a Honduran family on their way to Mexico - who will be sleeping on the street tonight whilst i complain about my perfectly adequate and secure place to crash, I shouldn't really complain.