After packing up and having our last Huevos Rancheros and Gallo Pinto breakfast at Rosa’s, we hopped on a lancha in the pouring rain and returned to Big Corn Island. There we boarded a plane that was even smaller than the one we took out to the islands, sitting only 12, and we returned to the mainland.

We bypassed Managua and headed straight for Leon. The former capital is Nicaragua’s other colonial jewel aside from Granada. After missing out on the latter due to my motorbike accident and dodgy pizza I was thrilled to see a genuine Latin American colonial town. It was a pleasure to stroll along the cobbled streets, relax with a raspados in the plaza, fight my way around the market and view the colourful churches. I had a look around the largest cathedral in Central America (but not a patch on the Liverpool Anglican) and stayed for mass but left dashed before the collection plate reached me. The city also has very strong connections to the revolution. I managed to see the Casa del Obrero, the site at which Rigoberto Lopez Perez dressed as a waiter and assassinated Anastasio Somoza Garcia, signalling the ‘beginning of the end’ of the 42 year Somoza family dictatorship. We also visited the Museo de Revolution. Here we were given information and shown photographs (some quite brutal and shocking) of the struggles and confrontations of the revolution by a five-foot-nothing former Sandinista revolutionary. He also took us on the roof of the former Frente Sandinista de Liberacion Nacional (FSLN) stronghold for a nice view of the plaza and cathedral. It struck me after this just how tough these countries have it politically and how important it is that they have revolutionaries that are willing to stand up to corruption and die for the cause. It also made me realise how spectacular days like July 19, 1979 must be when yje Sandinista marched victorious into Managua and ousted the Somoza regime.

Another note worth mentioning about Leon is it was here that we watched Arsenal and Man Utd dumped out of the Champions League. Arsenal were on the disappointing side of a Messi four goal master class and Man Utd exited on away goals to Bayern Munich.

The journey form Leon into Honduras although not particularly long was especially tiring. It consisted of a 3 hour journey to San Isidro, an hour trip to Esteli, 2 hours to Ocotal followed by a further hour to the border. All these took place in the familiar old US school buses which are ridiculously uncomfortable, especially when squeezing 3 on a seat! It’s particularly annoying have such a fat arse that provides no extra comfort in these situations whatsoever. During one of the trips a mother sat next to me with her cute baby daughter. The little girl the fell asleep, resting her head gently on my arm which was adorable. Only when I looked down I found out she wasn’t asleep but breastfeeding. All respect to the mother as well because that kid was at it for the majority of the 2 hour journey, using my arm for extra support, adding more discomfort to an already irritating bus ride.

Once through the border, which was thankfully quick and painless, it was another 2 hours to the Honduran capital of Tegucigalpa (Teh-goos-ee-gal-pa), this was on a proper coach which we were all grateful for. We spent the night in Tegucigalpa as it was too late to move on and were told by everyone that it was incredibly dangerous and not to walk the streets after dark. With this in mind we got some street food from just outside the hotel. While waiting for our tacos Dougie was approached by a middle-aged Honduran man. He was a large fellow, extremely friendly (maybe a little tipsy) with his shirt half unbuttoned and he seemed to look Dougie in the eye just long enough to suggest something was not quite right. He lead Dougie into the building next to the taco stand and when Dougie returned he told us what was blatantly obvious in hindsight, that he had been lead into a gay bar and we were surrounded by old queens! Everything suddenly became very noticeable; the vests, the tight trousers, the extra interest in the three mid-twenty white boys. However we didn’t panic, everyone was relaxed and we didn’t feel intimidated. When the man returned from the building and walked past us it was Sam’s turn for a squeeze of the arm and a wink. We waited a bit longer for our food and I was feeling a little left out; why should the other two get advances from a gay Honduran man and not me? I ended up getting more than I bargained for and he evidently saved the best for last. Just as we were about to leave, our admirer moved towards me, looked deep into my eyes, softly put his hands on my neck and pulled me towards him. He looked disappointed when I refused him and walked away quickly but it was all done in a light-hearted way and everyone had a laugh. It was easily my strangest experience of the trip.