Twisted Tanya, the Interminable Brit, and "You Know They Hate You"

In the evening at the Inn I swung in a hammock, reading, watching the sun set and then being entertained by the most incredible symphony of tropical birds. For my night in Copan my inn keepers suggested I eat at Twisted Tanyas, a cafe run by a hard drinking nut from Britain. I made my way there and was greeted by her Honduran husband...I think his name was Harold. Just after I sat I saw a British chap that I had seen at the ruins, he said hello and we started to chat. I invited him to join me and he accepted. He is a criminal attorney from London, Ashley, 58 years old, world travelled, well read....the conversation started quite well as he drank his Honduran beer and I my mojito made with a special blend of mint leaves. We talked literature and politics...I gave my usual apology for George Bush and he offered one for Tony Blair. Then dear Ashley preceded to talk at me for about an hour and a half. His questions were thinly disguised excuses for him to tell another story about some bit of travel. At last we walked home to the B&B (he was staying there too). I never got to meet Tanya...rumor has it she was too hungover to hang with the patrons that night. Choosing not to retire immediately I stayed up and talked to the inn keepers, Angela and her nephew Cyd, the sweetest young guy. Again we talked politics and travel and whatnot...at one point I noted that I found that in Antigua most Europeans were not very friendly (except the Scandinavians). Angela nodded knowingly and said, "well you know they hate you." Hmmm....did not know that so completely until visiting here. She added that those in Copan are in agreement that the best visitors...the best clients are those form the US. This was a nice thing to hear after being told that the bulk of Europe hates me!! Angela is from Honduras and runs the Inn with her husband Howard and their nephew Cyd. Cyd was so damn affable and kind. He was just a joy to talk with....22 years old and perpetually smiling. They explained that Copan is very safe...a woman could walk alone at all hours of the night and be perfectly safe. A nice change from the always present tension and caution I exercise in Gt. At last I retired into the sweetest, most wonderful bed ever....well only by contrast to the piece of shit that has been tormenting me for two weeks. The bed had clean, fresh smelling sheets....my room was big, there was a reading lamp (at home I use my headlamp) and the toilet was right there, clean and close and indoors. I slept so well....when the morning came I was hesitant to leave...taking some time to soak in the wonderful bed and the clean room. At last I kicked my ass up and to breakfast....and who is there to join me? Dear Ashley with another round of "have you been to?...have you heard off?....reminds me of...." Eggs and fresh fruit and off to walk the streets of Copan. At last it was time to pack and head to the cafe where the van would pick me up for the return to Antigua. As I shuffled up to Via Via and sat down for lunch, who should I see? Yep, dear Ashley again, who headed straight into his storey staring him...myself and a sweet young woman from Sweden sat and sipped our drinks and smiled. At last, into the back of the van again where Eric, the young and slightly socially awkward Dutchman, proceeded to tell me about his diarrhea....a common topic in Gt. At the border he complained that the bathrooms cost money asserting, "I have to pay them because their food makes me sick." Poor boy. And take a shower once a week would ya? The vans are small. The ride home was extra long and the back window was broken open with taped tempered glass flapping in my ear the whole way home....then a car accident that backed up traffic to an imperceptible crawl....life on the road. Great weekend tho...blabbing brit, sweet Hondurans, stinky Dutchman....it was all good. Especially that damn bed. It was just yummy. Could have hugged it and cried when I left.....