The Consequence of an Island Error

Everyone makes mistakes, oh yes they do.  We certainly make our share while traveling.  Sometimes, those mistakes end up having happy consequences - stumbling upon a beautiful view when you get lost hiking, for example.  Sure, you're lost; but you found a place you'd never have seen if you'd stayed on the main trail.  Sometimes, your mistakes have negative consequences - like when you leave the screen doors open and kitchen lights on for an hour after dusk.  That is the mistake we made on Tuesday night.  It was a beautiful evening.  The wind had died down and we were making dinner - you could hardly blame us.  Now the consequences are mine to deal with.  I say mine because Andrew (the lucky bastard) doesn't have a problem with the sand fleas.  

I told you that I'd pass on more tidbits we learn about the island as we came upon them.  Here's another one.  Open doors + lights + dusk in Utila = sand flea infestation.  By the time we noticed it was an issue, the light pendants hanging over the kitchen counter were covered with them.  We grimly closed the doors, put away the food, and sprayed the area with poison (I realize many of you will see that as the larger mistake, and I'm ok with that.  We'll talk again after your all-nighter itch-a-thon).  It wasn't long before I was covered in bites.  Ugh.   Because of the wind, the bugs have not been terribly noticeable.  We'd let our guard down and the sand fleas smiled.  

By Wednesday morning the bites were what I'm used to seeing - quarter sized, red welts that itch like hell.  You may recall that, the last few times we've been to Central America, I've taken a steroid prescription to help reduce my histamine response to the bites.  This time is no exception.  Warning - medical professions, please skip the next sentence.  When I take the prednisone, I play around with the dosing trying to take as little as possible, while still getting the benefits of it.  I had been taking a pretty low dose since we arrived.  That has changed.  

Here's the weird thing about itching.  When you're up and about during the day, the itching is barely noticeable.   The minute you lay your head down on the pillow to sleep, however, things take a sharp turn south.  Nighttime itching will drive you mad.  Really, people - bat shit crazy.  Last night was one of the worst nights I can remember for itching.  What else is there to do but lay there and think about how itchy you are?  I have a small arsenal of PRN (as needed) medications for this - Benadryl, a prescription antihistamine, and some topical creams (hydrocortisone & calamine).  Ice seems to help, so I also tote a couple of ice bags with me when we travel south.  I am not ashamed to tell you that I tried every single one of those tools.  Some of them more than once.  Here's another tip I've learned - one Benadryl will make you sleepy.  Two (ok, maybe three) will make you wired.  Wired + itchy is not a pretty place, people.  Ask poor Andrew.  He tries his best to be helpful in these situations but, really, what is he going to do?   He finally resorted to his own coping mechanism of ear plugs and a sleeping pill.  As I look at him snoring away, I'm envious.  And a little rageful.  I wonder what bat shit crazy + rageful equals?  We may just find out...

...but, on to the real reason you're here:  pictures!  I promised yesterday I'd post more pictures, so here they are.  

The good news is, we have a herd (pack? gaggle? anyone?) of iguanas living in the wood stacked along a stone wall on the west side of our yard.  Guess who's feeding them?  We diced up a big container full of fruit & veggies and Andrew is working on becoming their BFF.  

The wall & the zookeeper

Iguana feeding station #1

Iguana feeding station #2

We have learned from LJ that there is no shortage of things to feed.  She saves all her produce scraps for the crabs that live under her house.  She saved meat scraps to feed the both the eels that live on the jetty and a dog that doesn't have a home.  She has a hummingbird/bat feeder.  Not to be outdone, we laid in a supply of giant Milkbones in preparation for the dog's arrival.  We also purchased a hummingbird/bat feeder and a supply of sugar.   We spent $24 and some change at Bush's this afternoon, and arrived home about an hour later to find our box of goodies waiting on the front stoop.  I love this place! 

Big spider.  You'll have to look closely - he's right in the center.  He was probably about 2-3 inches across (including legs).

The tuk tuks here in Utila.  Very convenient way to get around the narrow streets.  As I said before, a one-way ride to or from town costs 40 lemps ($2/person).  It's mostly young men (I'd estimate them to be aged 14-20) who drive them.

The main street

Andrew's lunch date at a restaurant in town.  Yes, the cat got his share of our lunch.

Guacamole fixings!  This makes me very, very happy.  Keep your fingers crossed that it lasts until the next produce boat comes on Friday!  

Today will be a low-key day for us.  I'm tired, and my liver hurts from my futile attempts to play pharmacist.  It might be too windy again to get out in the water.  Luckily, Andrew is always pretty happy to lounge around.  We do have to make a trip in to town this afternoon as Andrew has his last float at 1:45.  No plans for tomorrow - any suggestions? 

The Rhythm of Utila

Every place has a rhythm, or pace, of life.  Some places – cities for example – the pace is so frenetic that it’s hard to discern what the true rhythm is.  Small towns are easier to find a consistent pulse.  On a tropical island, it’s impossible to miss.  Whether they like it, or not, even the touristas will find themselves inhaling & exhaling accordingly.  The island demands it to be so.

Utila is small.   Not quite Caye Caulker small, but pretty darn small.  The island is about 7 km long & less than 1 km wide.  For my American friends, that’s about 4.4 miles x 0.6 miles.  There is one main street that runs the entire length, following arch of the bay.  There are a couple of “side streets” that spoke off of the main road.  From what I can tell, there are no street names.  People indicate location through landmarks of known businesses.  “It’s just down from Bush’s; on the same side.”  “It’s on the same road as the Jade Seahorse.”  Simple, and effective.  Assuming you know where any of those places are. 

Oh, wait!  We don’t know where any of those places are.  For this reason, it’s important to try and get the lay of the land as soon as possible.  As you know, we tried to do that on Monday, but that pesky power outage ruined our plans.  Oh, well.  Tuesday is just as good. 

Tuesday started out with an early morning rain shower.  When that passed, it was calm and sunny.  It’s been very windy here for about a week now.  Not Southern Alberta windy, mind you, but windy nonetheless.  So windy that the locals are all commenting on it, and dives are being cancelled due to choppy, cloudy water conditions.  We decide to take advantage of the morning calm to get acquainted with the reef in front of the house.  It’s about 75 yards out in shallow (belly-scraping shallow in some places), warm water.  While the coral isn’t quite as nice as on the reef we had in Roatan, there are a lot of fish and plenty to see.

After our swim and lunch, we hailed a tuk tuk and made our way in to town.  Cost of the ride is 40 lempira ($2 US) per person.  The tuk tuk dropped us off at the far end of the island and we made our way back on foot, taking note of both the “main” and more inconspicuous (my favorite) businesses.  Here’s what we’ve learned:

1.   Posted operating hours don’t mean anything.  Stores will open when someone shows up to open then, and close when that person wants to leave.  Siesta is generally stated to take place from 12-2 pm but, in the case of at least one store we encountered, could last until after 4 pm.  Business here include a plethora of dive shops, food establishments, shops selling groceries, hardware, clothing, etc., and services (bike rentals, laundry service, tour guides).  There are many, many small grocery stores on the island.  They all pretty much sell the same thing, but with varying selection and at varying prices.  It would take a while to learn where to buy what, I expect.  I also expect the prices could change shortly after you figured that out.  Like every small island, prices are higher than you’d expect considering the poverty level of the local residents.  Everything has to be shipped in on a boat, requiring lots of hands to touch it.  As you’d expect, Latino staple foods (rice, beans, cornmeal, and produce) are the cheapest items.  If you want Western convenience food, be prepared to pay a lot.  Andrew bought a can of Pringles for about $3.50 US.  Groceries can be delivered to your house, for free, if you spend $25 US (500 lempira). 

2.     The term “restaurant” is broad.  The definition includes beautiful seaside structures boasting fancy seafood cooked by North American & European chefs.  It also includes a table along the side of the street where a woman is scooping stewed meat on to home made tortillas, or cooking fresh baledas (a pastry filled with meat, eggs, cheese, etc.).   Obviously there is a price difference.  I tend to prefer the latter, though the former generally come with restrooms and free wifi. 

3.     Restaurants are only open on certain days.  For example, we were told that we “must try” Jungle Café.  It’s only open on Saturday nights, and you must have a reservation in advance.  I doubt we’ll go there.  RJ’s BBQ, which we are more likely to try, is only open on Wednesday, Friday & Sunday.  I’m not sure what the proprietors of these establishments do with the rest of their time.  Maybe nothing (which sounds lovely). 

4.     Despite being the tropics, produce is difficult to come by.  Refrigeration is limited in the shops here, and the heat is not friendly to produce for more than a day or two.  Fresh produce arrives by boat on Tuesday and Friday afternoons.  If you want cilantro that isn’t dried & crispy (and I do), you need to be in town about 4 or 4:30 on one of those days.  You also need to be prepared to hunt through several stores for what you want.  To secure a melon, a pound of bananas, some pears and cilantro took me three different stores.  I never did find a pineapple.  Maybe Friday?  

5.     Tuesday is sushi night.  Hooray!  LJ came by (and by “came by” I mean “yelled my name over the fence”) earlier in the day to ask if I wanted her to order us sushi.  Uh, is the pope Catholic?  Yes, please!  She explained the process to me – she’d call in the order by noon, and then pick it up after 6:30 pm.  It would cost me 120 lempira ($6).   About 6:45 pm, Vinnie arrived on our porch with this lovely plate of fresh-caught tuna sushi. 

6.     All beverages can be delivered to your door.  For example, Friday is fresh squeezed orange juice day.  Again, good ol’ LJ has offered to procure some for us.   (It likely goes without saying that I’m quickly becoming fond of Vinnie & LJ.)   We’re told that the deal will go down some time on Friday morning.  We don’t have to be home to receive the delivery, but should leave 150 lemps ($7.50) under a conch shell on our front stoop.  In return, we’ll receive a gallon of OJ.  I’ll let you know how that goes!   Drinking-water delivery is a similar system, here.  You call Mr. Johnnie for that.  Cost is $3 for a 3-gallon bottle.  The same “shell” procedure is used.  There is also a guy named Archie who delivers pop, beer and hard liquor.  We haven’t called him yet but, if we do, you’ll be the first to know. 

I’m sure we’ll come across more tidbits as the remainder of our two weeks unfolds.  So far, we love it here.  The locals are friendly, the weather is perfect, and we don’t have to go to work.  What’s not to love?   More pictures tomorrow – I promise!   Right now, I have a view to enjoy.

Mike

 There is something about VRBO owners (and caretakers), I’ll tell you.  We’ve met many in our time.  They are all very, very nice.  They are also very, very weird – each in their own weird way.  Remember Al & Sandra from Roatan?  He never wore a shirt and she never came out of the house, except to golf.  The folks we rented from in Belize were 70-year old pot farmers.   Here in Utila, we have Mike - the caretaker for the house we’re renting. 

As I said in my previous post, Mike is a gringo who reportedly closed up shop in Florida and moved to Utila. I suspect there may be more to that story, but we’ll see if it becomes apparent as the week goes on.  What I do know, after spending less than 30 minutes with him over the past three days, is that he is a professional bullshitter.  You know the type, right?  Sounds like he knows what he’s talking about but, when the rubber hits the road, there’s nothing to it.  Here’s some supporting evidence:

Monday morning, the power in the house went out at about 9 am.  No big deal, we’ve seen this on Roatan, so are used to it.  When we arrived on Saturday, we had even asked Mike about power outages on Utila.  He had assured us that they “hardly ever happen” and, when they do, there’s a notice on Facebook. 

Mike arrived about 9:30 am to fill the water tank for showering, etc.  We tell him that the power is out, and I thought I saw a flicker of surprise cross his face.  True to his bullshitter nature, however, he quickly recovers with a big smile and says “Yeah, it’s out all over town. There wasn’t a notice on Facebook, though, so should be a short one.  It happens all the time.”  Really?  All the time?  Yesterday you said “hardly ever”, but we’ll let that one slide. 

We spend the entire day without power, and cancel our plans to use the day to wander around town and get our bearings.  Doesn’t seem to be much point if no one has any power, right?  Instead, we spend a (admittedly) lovely day at the house, reading and enjoying the view.  (Note:  it was too windy Sunday & Monday to do any snorkeling in front of the house.  It’s much better today, however.) 

About 3 pm, hunger forces us to reevaluate our trip to town.  We did get that quick stop at the grocery with Taxi Hank, but that was mostly for essentials (dish soap, dairy, etc.), and the snacks we brought in that extra suitcase cannot be formulated in to anything that could be considered a meal.  We had planned to stock up on real food when we were in town today.  We check out the list of numbers hanging by the phone and make a call to Skid Row, where we ate the first night we arrived.  I say a cheerful hello, and ask if they have power.  The dude slowly drawls out a confused “Y-ee-ssss?”  When I inquire if it was out at all today I get a similarly confused but opposite response of “N-ooo-ooo?”  Within 30 minutes we’re sitting at Skid Row enjoying a couple of sandwiches (steak for me; shrimp po’boy for Andrew), fries and two rum & lemonades (for those who are interested, total was $15 with tip).  We’re also enjoying their free wifi and see that there is, in fact, a post on Facebook that states the power will be out on our end of the island only from 9 am – 4 pm.  Thanks, Mike. 

Since we’re in town, we decide to walk a bit and pick up a few more groceries.  The supply boat comes in on Tuesday, so there are slim pickings in the way of produce, but we find some sandwich fixings and some real cream for coffee (sorry milk fans, it just doesn’t cut it in our opinion).  We arrive home about 6 pm to power – yay! 

The other issue we’ve had, so far, with Mike is the broadband card.  We are not people who like to be too disconnected from the World Wide Web.  I’d like to say otherwise, but I’d be lying.  We had inquired with the owners (before leaving the US) about internet and were assured that, while there was no wifi, Mike would assist us with a broadband card/stick.  Fine.  I asked Mike about the stick on Saturday when he picked us up at the airport, and he told us he could “definitely have that for you tomorrow.”  When he arrived without it on Sunday, I asked again.  Turns out that the store where the stick gets loaded up isn’t open on Sunday.  He assures me that he can bring it on Monday.  Surprisingly, he does.  We plug it in to our laptop and…nothing.  Mike, who also reports using this very same type of internet access, seems to be unclear on how it might function.  The only thing he does seem to know is that you have to be careful to disconnect properly or you’ll “burn through your time really quick.”  Andrew suggests that the power outage (which we thought was island-wide at this point) may be the issue.  Mike happily agrees with that, and explains to us where we can buy more time for the stick, if needed. 

When we arrived home to power, we tried the broadband stick again.  Still nothing.  We poke around a bit in the message history and, despite the fact that it’s all in Spanish, can see that the last time it was loaded with any time (7 days) was in early January.  Sigh.  I am guessing that, if asked, he’d tell us that we did something wrong and, like he warned, used up that seven days of access he loaded on. 

At this point, we’ve given up on Mike as a reliable source of information.  On the upside, the owner’s parents are staying in the main house next door.  Vinnie & LJ are from New York, and they are everything you’d expect them to be – talkative, assertive, and opinionated.  They are also extremely helpful in terms of sharing information.  Every time they see me outside, they are offering tips and poking lists of phone numbers and restaurant recommendations at us through the fence.  They’re our own personal Trip Advisor!  At least until we get the broadband issue figured out. 

Post script – we have broadband access!  We took the stick to a Tigo dealer in town and, for $28.25, we have 30 days and/or 5.5 GB of data.  Thanks, Mike. 

Arrival & The House

I’m pleased to announce that all of our luggage arrived in San Pedro Sula.  Hooray – clothes!   If I ever see that Houston agent again I will apologize for doubting his conviction of the way things “are supposed to work”.  

From San Pedro Sula, we had to catch a commuter plane to Utila.  We expected to have a 2-hour layover, so settled in at a café with a “Coke Light” and free wifi.  About an hour later, a man approached us and asked if we were going to Utila.  When we responded in the affirmative, he urgently informed us that the flight was “boarding right now!”  Really?  Ok.  We hustled to collect our items and dashed out to the runway to the plane.  Unlike Caye Caulker Airlines, this plane had two engines.  We’re moving up!  It held 17 passengers and two pilots, AND there was a folding door between the cockpit and the passengers.  As someone who doesn’t love to fly, I was happy to see this.  I firmly believe that what goes on in the cockpit should be a mystery to me as a passenger.  I don’t want to see frantic switch flipping, or hear the word “oops” when flying. 

We were the last two people to board the full plane and, after about 5 minutes, we were up, up and away.   The flight was smooth, save for the initial ascent and final descent and I was grateful.  It was hot as hades in the plane and I am prone to motion sickness.  I’ll bet the people around me were also grateful.  The flight took 25 minutes from take off to touch down.  We exited the plane, collected our suitcases and made our way in to the “terminal”.  I use that word loosely as it was more of a bar, than anything else.  Several people in the terminal asked us if we needed a tuk tuk (taxi), and we informed them that we were waiting on someone named Mike, who was to escort us to the VRBO.   “You’re early,” several of them told us.  Apparently we were bumped to an earlier flight that wasn’t full.  No wonder we didn’t know it was time to board.  It wasn’t. 

Unfazed (we’re on holiday!), we purchased a bottle of pop for me, and a beer for Andrew (total cost was $4 US, including tip) and settled in a shady spot to wait for Mike.  He arrived about 20 minutes later with Taxi Hank in tow.  We learned that Mike is an American, originally from Florida.  He was “in the restaurant business” and sold his house to move here after a vacation.  I’d speculate that he’s in his mid-to-late 50’s, but will confess that looks can be deceiving in the gringo population in Central America.  The overabundance of sun is not a friend to northern skin, and causes us age rapidly.  He favors baggy t-shirts with the sleeves cut off, faded cargo shorts and raggedy flip-flops.  He drives a red scooter.   Taxi Hank is a local.  He’s probably also in his mid-late 50’s, but looks about 20 years younger than Mike. 

The airport

We loaded our bags in to Taxi Hank’s mini van, and headed off.  Mike had instructed Hank to “stop by Bush’s” on the way.  We discovered that Bush’s is a grocery store.  Hank suggested that we didn’t take too long as he would need to wait for us on the extremely narrow street.  We picked up a few necessities (butter, milk, eggs, bread, avocados, limes, chilies) to tide us over until we could do a proper shop, and were back in the van as quick as we could be. 

Mike was waiting for us at the house.  He gave us a brief overview of the workings of the house.  There’s a couple of new things for us at this VRBO that we’ve not experienced before.  First is the way the electricity works.  You pre-pay your power costs here and then a little meter counts you down.  We started at 133.5 kwh.  Almost 24 hours later we’re at 130.3 kwh.  The cost of the VRBO rental includes the first week of power costs.  After that, we pay the additional costs.  I have no idea what that will be but, if our current rate of use stands, we shouldn’t need to buy any more for the duration of our trip. 

Electric meter.  I think the happy face means we're good.

Also new to us is the water system.   The only hot water in the house is in the shower.  It comes from an electric showerhead that has a heating coil built in to an attached hose.  You can adjust the temperature of the water that comes out with a slide switch on the showerhead.  We’ve since learned that there are two settings – scalding and polar.  As a watcher of “House Hunters International”, I’m familiar with these showerheads.  They are also known as “suicide showerheads” because there are live electrical wires feeding in to the head.  Water + electricity = bad.  You standing in the shower with bare feet + electricity = dead.   Keep your fingers crossed! 

I think as long as we don't touch the wires...

There’s a working phone here, which is also uncommon.  Mike provided us with a list of critical phone numbers – his, Taxi Hank, Bush’s (they deliver groceries, it seems), Mr. Johhnie (he delivers pop & beer) and, most importantly, the number to have fresh squeezed OJ delivered.  He told us that the produce is delivered to the island on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and that we can get fresh fish from Zorro (no surprise) down by the dive shop pier about 10 am every morning.   There’s no wifi at the house, but Mike has promised to get us a broadband card on Monday when the shop is open.  In the meantime, we’ve learned that all the restaurants in town have free wifi for patrons.  I’m writing this blog post from one now! 

 

Fully orientated (elapsed time = 8 minutes, including an overview of a very bad map of town), Mike said farewell and we were left to our own devices.  First priority was to admire the view.  Jealous? 

Other than what I’ve mentioned above, the house is very much in line with others we’ve rented in Belize and Honduras – rustic and charming.  The point here is to be outside, so we don’t need anything fancy.  Also in line with the other homes we’ve rented is the bed situation.  If any of you are future VRBO owners, please consider outfitting your property with sheets that have more than 10 threads/inch, and at least two pillows per sleeper.  Trust me, your patrons will thank you.  If they are like me, they will rave about it in reviews because it is such an anomaly.  Other travelers will seek you out.  The importance of comfortable bedding cannot be overstated, in my opinion.  We improvised by using the folded bedspread along the length of the head of the bed to prop up the pancake pillows, but Andrew still used his beach towel for a little additional loft. 

After spending some time admiring the view, we unpacked and then decided to walk in to town for dinner.  We found our way to a place called Skid Row that we were told had great pizza.  We had an appetizer, two entrees, and three drinks (two beer for Andrew; a rum & lemonade for me) and the total with tip was $24.  Not bad.

I was up early this morning (about 6:10).  Andrew was up for about 3 hours in the middle of the night (a routine curse for him, unfortunately), so he stayed in bed until about 9:30.  While I waited for him to get up, I enjoyed several cups of coffee and my book on the porch swing.   Later in the morning, three men showed up to repair the air conditioning unit in the bedroom.  Mike had notified us that it wasn’t working, and they would be by to look at it.  We typically don’t use the A/C, but I guess it will be nice to have it as an option if it gets too hot.  We are right on the ocean so the trade winds blow directly in to the house and, in conjunction with two ceiling fans, it’s really quite pleasant. 

First one up gets the reward of this view

 About 3 pm we packed up walked in to town.  We had arranged for Andrew to “float”, and I had a massage.  When researching what to do in Utila, I had come across Float Utila.  The float tank is a saline, sensory deprivation tank that is purported to have benefits to your health.  Andrew LOVES quiet, dark, and alone more than anyone I have ever met, so I knew he would be all over this.  In advance, I contacted the owner about purchasing sessions.  She informed me that they had moved off the island and had their house listed as a VRBO (it’s huge and gorgeous, by the way – check out the link) so the float tank was only available to those renting the property.  I expressed my disappointment, but thanked her for getting back to me.  To my great delight, she emailed me a week ago to let me know that the house was not rented for the first week we are here, and that she’d made arrangements with their caretaker to let us purchase sessions.  Oh, and the caretaker is a licensed masseuse, if I’m interested.  Uh, of course I’m interested!  At 4 pm Andrew had his first float (of a package of three which cost $90 US total), and I had a 1-hour massage ($40 US+ tip).  Heaven! 

 

After the float it was time for dinner.  Nachos for Andrew; a burger & fries for me.  I've been missing meat the past few days, oddly.  That's about all we'll accomplish for today, I'm afraid.  Tomorrow we're going to take a tuk tuk (taxi) to the far end of the town and wander back to see what we find.  See you then!  

View out the front door

Kitchen & living room

Kitchen

View from the hammock

My morning coffee spot

Bed with the crappy sheets & pillows

Andrew lounging on living room couch

Our dinner table

Lost luggage

We should have known there were going to be issues from the minute we checked in.  First, let me admit that, fortunately, our travel is typically uneventful.  For the most part, we get where we need to go with all of our personal belongings in tow.  Considering the fact that we travel two or three times a year, I guess we were due for a snag.  

So, let's go back, shall we?

We had a 5 pm flight out of MSP.  It's so nice to not have to get up at 3 am to get ready to go to the airport!  Instead, we were able to have a nice, leisurely morning.  Andrew went to the range to put holes in target men.  I took Cowboy & Peanut to meet Jeanne & her pack for a nice, long walk.  It's cold in Minnesota right now.  Air temperature was 0 degrees Fahrenheit at 9:30 am.  It's been windy, too, with windchill temps in the minus twenty range.  This morning, however, the wind was fairly calm and the sun was shining.  We thoroughly enjoy the almost four miles, and agreed that we were even a little overdressed.  

After the walk, it was home to do some housework.  Don't you love coming home to a clean house after you travel?  Clean bathrooms, floors and sheets are waiting for us when we get back!  Stacy (Kindred Spirits Pet Care) came to pick up Cowboy & Peanut for their two weeks at Camp Basset.  They were so happy to see her and couldn't wait to be out the door.  While I'm thrilled that they love Stacy & are excited to go with her, I'll admit that I secretly hoped for a backward glance from one of them.  Nope. 

The car service arrived right on time to pick us up for the airport.  Because it was the middle of the afternoon, traffic was light and we arrived at the terminal about 20 minutes later.  Seems like things are going swimmingly, no?  Here's where that changes...

We had first class tickets for this flight.  It was only a couple of hundred dollars more than the economy ticket to upgrade, and included free luggage, free access to the sky club, and free cocktails on the flight.  Yes, yes - I know.  "Free" is relative.  Whatever.  We trotted up to the Premier Access ticket counter and proceeded to try to check our bags.  First issue was that they tagged my bag all the way to SAP (San Pedro Sula, Honduras).  We noticed that and asked the ticket agent to change that so that we could pick up the bags for our overnight in Houston, which she did.  Then it was Andrew's turn.  After typing and swiping and clicking for quite some time, she told him that there would be a $40 charge for his second bag.  What?  Isn't the allowance for first class two bags per person at no charge?  You're not in first class, sir.  What?  Here's my boarding pass - seat 2B.  Turns out, there was a gentleman named Jacob Bruemmer on the same flight, sitting in coach and paying for his checked bags.  Carolyn, any relation?   After we straightened the names and seating arrangements out, she tagged Andrew's two bags and we were on our way.  We spent our time waiting for our flight (which was an hour late) in the United Sky Lounge munching on pre-wrapped sticks of cheese and chex mix.   

The flight to Houston was perfectly lovely.  The flight attendant was very generous with Andrew's scotch.   I had a lovely gin & tonic.  We landed at 9 pm and trotted down to the carousel to pick up our luggage.  One bag came out right away.  It happened to be the one that we loaded up with food for the house in Utila (groceries are expensive on the islands so we bring things like peanut butter, Crystal Light mix, spices, condiments and snacks).  That initial happy feeling you get when you see one of your bags arrive slowly fizzled as we watched the conveyer belt go around and around for about 20 minutes with no sign of the other two bags.   A review of the baggage tracking stickers quickly revealed the issue.  The two bags that Andrew checked did not get re-tagged to Houston as we had requested.  Did I mention that these happened to be the bags with clothes in them?  We talked to the lost luggage lady who filled out a form so that a bag handler could retrieve our bags from some cart in the international terminal.   "It will take one to two hours" we were told so we went to pick up our rental car and find the hotel & some dinner.  Two hours later (and without dinner - we got a little lost), we returned.  Groundhog Day!  The lost luggage lady filled out THE SAME FORM again, handed it to a bag handler, and told us to have a seat.  After about 45 minutes, the gentleman came back to say that he couldn't find the bags.  A lengthy (and surprisingly terse, on her part) explanation from the lost luggage lady indicated that they were in some TSA limbo and unretrievable until the next day.  They handed us a baggie with toothbrush, comb and deodorant and sent us on our way.  Sigh.  

Hungry, tired, and wrinkled, we got back in the rental car to find something to eat.  We hit the pillows in the hotel about 1:30 am, with alarms set for 5:30 am.  I guess we'll sleep in Honduras.  

When we checked in for the second leg of the flight this morning, we were assured by the ticket agent that our bags would "probably" be in Honduras when we arrive.  "That's the way it's supposed to happen", he said with a smile.  I'm feeling less than confident, but I'm willing to concede that it's a possibility.  Stay tuned...