ErandiquePersonal travel impressions in stories and pictures from Erandique, Honduras. Click on the pictures to enlarge, send as a free e-card, or download for personal use. You can locate Erandique and navigate the world using Google Earth Show on map
N 14° 13.758
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Of the colonial towns to visit in the Gracias region, I opted for Erandique. Not the easiest to reach, but I hoped to make it in a one day excursion, waking up early. When I arrived at the point where buses and cars leave in the direction of San Juan, I first had an uneasy verbal fight with a guy who had told me there as no morning bus the day before, and who now, smilingly, said that it had left at 5. After almost an hour's wait, finally a pick up arrived, filling up at once and it took us fairly quickly to San Juan. There, I waited for two hours for transportation, without any car, any truck, any bus passing by. It was getting warm, there were soon almost 10 others, so any pickup would be full immediately. There were rumours that there would be a bus at 11, at 12, at 1 perhaps. But I was calculating, it would all be too late for me.
At the moment I was contemplating going back, a blonde girl cycled by. I did not hesitate and asked her about the situation. Jokingly, I said that I could have been there already if only I had had a bike, since the distance is a mere 24 kilometres. Before I knew it, she offered me her bike, and claimed she did not need it. The other waiting men looked really surprised under their hats, when I cycled off, leaving them behind to wait for what seemd an indefinite wait. It took me longer than expected, the road being all gravel and either going uphill or down. But it was a beautiful ride, through the foresty landscape of the Sierra de las Neblinas. Parking the bike under the enormous ceiba tree on the first square was a relief, and I felt I deserved to see the town now. I talked to an old lady who told me about her life, having been born in this town, and she gladly had her picture taken. I cycled the old streets, saw the second church, met a painter-poet who took me to the third church on the third square on which he lived. 
This square was the oldest, the original parque central of the town, built by the Spanish. He lived in one of the two oldest houses on the square, showed his paintings of which he was rightly proud. I walked around the square with the ceiba tree that was cut in two by a blistering lightning. I then went back to the first square, surprisingly a truck was waiting to depart, and thinking about my time schedule, I decided to accept their ride back to San Juan, put the bike and myself in the back of the truck, and off I was, on the long way back to San Juan and Gracias.
