Spent a weekend at Lake Yojoa in the middle of the country, and stayed in the Honduran version of Royston Vasey on Friday night. According to the Rough Guide, Pena Blanca is a ‘shabby overgrown village’ – we were inclined to agree.
Grinning locals supplied us with an assortment of conflicting directions as we struggled to track down the micro-brewery that’s recommended in all the guides, purportedly run by Robert, a guy from Oregon with a penchant for real ale.
Requesting la cervecería que se llama D&D in my finest pigeon-Spanish unearthed a barrel of red herrings, and it took a clued-up taxi driver to drop the pieces into place. As it transpired, asking for el gringo que hace cerveza would have cut out the leg-work. It was a well-deserved night by the pool-side sipping Robert’s selected fruity brews: mango, apricot, raspberry.
Trekked along a dusty track to the lake shore through miles of flat, palm-fringed marshland, misty mountains in the background. An unmarked trail lined with straw weaved through the shrub, then suddenly burst into a secluded bay where handmade boats rocked in the breeze and a grizzled Honduran fished peacefully, soaking up the view.
The following day we paid a visit to Catarata de Pulhapanzak, an incredible waterfall some 10km from Yojoa. Clambering over slippery rocks you could duck underneath for a feeling like a thousand power-showers. Jutting four metres above a natural plunge-pool was a rocky overhang, and after watching the local kids flinging themselves into the murky unknown we were inspired to follow suit.