Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Anyhow, I was saying... I like to hang out at the Roatán Airport. Thing is, Roatán is small town living; chances are I’ll meet many friends there.

By Genevieve Ross
Having just returned to Roatán, Honduras from Ontario, Canada, I’ve had my fair share of planes, trains, and automobiles during the past few weeks. While these are typical modes of transportation in the both areas, there are notable distinct differences and unique qualities between the two. Take planes, for example. Obviously, since Roatán is an island surrounded by the Caribbean Sea, flying was my best option for getting to Canada in a timely fashion. A friend got me to the airport early enough so I could stand in line with fellow travelers (for an extended period of time). It’s kind of like a game of Poker; will the line move quickly (didn’t have to show up at the airport three hours ahead of my flight) or, if I bluff, will it get down to the wire and risk losing the jackpot of jetting away. For the most part, call me weird, but I don’t mind hanging out at the Roatán Airport. Admit it, you’re thinking... she’s weird.

The Roatán Airport is small by most standards; one arrival gate, one exit gate. Well, there are two exit gates, but they are right beside each other, and which one you go to is based on where the most people are lining up. Once you complete your check-in, you have to go to the bank line to pay your exit tax. However, keep in mind that the day you are flying they may have changed the rules and you can pay your exit tax (have the person behind or in front of you in the check in line, shuffle your luggage along, so you don’t loss your spot) while you wait to check in.

Confused yet? Just wing it.

Anyhow, I was saying... I like to hang out at the Roatán Airport. Thing is, Roatán is small town living; chances are I’ll meet many friends there. Some are picking up family, friends, and guests to their resorts; while others are sending off the same. Then there is the time of year (mid-November until after Easter) when Sunwing Charters arrive from Toronto and Montreal. That’s when you will find me at the Roatán Airport saying; Welcome to Roatán! to all my fellow Canadians coming for a visit. Call me the Walmart Greeter of Roatán.

I’ve shared what it is like when you fly to Roatán and the unique qualities of navigating through immigration and customs; when my dad came for a visit a few months ago, so I’ll let you peruse that story rather than repeat myself.

When you are leaving Roatán, there are some features you should know about. Once you are in the “secure” area (you’ve gone through the metal detector and haven’t set off any alarms) you will find: a souvenir shop, and a lunch counter, but, no Duty Free shop. At this time you might assume that you are done with “security” checks, ah... no. When you line up to exit to the waiting plane, you will once again pass through a “security” check. Any and all liquids; bottles of water, sodas, etc. that you purchased will be confiscated, and that half tube of toothpaste that got through the first “security” check will be removed as well... or maybe that was just me.

No, there are no trains on Roatán, but, there will soon be one that will take you on a tour of the glorious flora and fauna on the Island. Roatán Radio’s own DJ and gardening guru, Helen Murphy, is working on that as you read this.

In Canada, trains have a long history, you could even say, our very existence and evolution was based on them. In recent years (sad to say) rails are being removed and replaced with more highways -- I don’t get it. That aside, in my hometown of Waterloo, Ontario (where the Blackberry was born), there are still some rails intact, and you can often hear the distinct whistle as one passes through.

As to automobiles, one of the things I was most looking forward to when visiting Canada was driving fast (I admit it) on the long, straight, stretches of highway. A million years ago, in a former life, I drove those highways every day to and from work, it wasn’t uncommon to drive to the office, thirty minutes from my home (on a good day), then from the office, head out to see a customer in another city three hours (on a good day) from there. I got pretty tired of doing that, but, hey, it was part of my job.

Whereas here on Roatán, the entire island is only thirty-five miles long.

Even with keeping in mind; the twists, turns, ups and downs; I’m certainly not doing a three hour commute... and I’m sure as heck not driving fast.

I arrived to the Toronto Airport, and made my way to the rental car area. I had reserved a basic economy car for my two week stay in Ontario, well I was upgraded at no extra charge, and with keys in hand, I headed out to claim the brand new, candy apple red, Ford Focus. I know, doesn’t sound too impressive, but, oh my, they’ve come a long way. And the most bizarre feature is that I was driving a car that thought it was a computer. Not one, but two, touch screen computers booted up when I turned the key in the ignition. Anxious to hit the road, I wasted more than a half hour trying to figure the thing out. Finally, I’m on my way; exit the garage, head for the open road. Not. First I had to remember which ramp to take to get to the highway, but the choices were extensive, and I needed my glasses for distance so I could read all those signs.

I made it onto Highway 401 WEST. Ah, this is what I was looking forward to (it was Sunday so traffic wasn't too heavy)... cruising along a straight stretch of highway; knowing where I was and where I was going, so I could set aside my two pairs of glasses, and slip on my sunglasses. Three lanes wide in both directions (not including the various exit and entrance ramps), I passed other drivers, and some passed me. I was listening to music, sipping my half decaf, just milk, Timmy’s (Tim Horton’s coffee, for those of you that aren’t familiar with this Canadian staple). With at least, an hour of driving ahead of me, I settled in. But, wait, this wasn't as much fun as I thought it would be. Pretty boring actually, and I felt my backside and legs going to sleep.

What’s wrong with me? I had looked forward to this moment.

I glanced out the driver’s side window as a fellow roadster passed me in the fast lane. I smiled. I waved. My reward? A blank stare and a quick jerk of has head to face forward again, pretending a stranger hadn't said hello.

That’s what’s wrong. On Roatán, driving isn’t just a means to get from point A to point B. It’s like hanging out at the airport; a place to say hi to friends, old and new. Or even to do a little shopping when the fruit and veggie truck is parked next to where you are driving... just lean out the window and buy some oranges, pineapples, perhaps some carrots or a cabbage. Low on phone minutes? No worries, the phone card guy will probably stroll by and you can buy some. You’ve got time... You’re probably stuck behind two taxis, facing each other blocking the road–in a standoff. (8/2/11)

Note: The author is a regular contributor to Honduras Weekly. She is a Canadian expatriate living on Roatán and writes a blog called The Roatán Vortex. She is also a disc jockey at 101.1FM Roatán Radio.