We came, we saw, we fled!

The border crossing from El Salvador to Honduras was the most rural crossing I've ever done, presumably that's why we had to pay to get through the border - we were the only gringos on the bus and the only people who paid! Such is life in Central America.

Our first stop is Marcala, a busy, dusty and dirty town. We find a nice room and then have a walk round town. Our bar is just a room in someone's house but they've a good supply of beer and crisps. We're not planning to stay long in Honduras so first thing we're on a us to Tegucigalpa, the capital.

Hostel Iberia is our chosen cheapo and we get a little more for our money than we'd bargained for as it transpires this hotel rents rooms by the hour. It's a little noisy and there's a quick turnover of guests! We have a lovely walk around town visiting the Cathedral during mass. Sadly the museum we went to was closed, and had been for 2 years (big up to Footprint guides) so we headed to Parque Concordia which has little Mayan temples in. What the book fails to tell you is that it's in a decidedly dodgy area of town and its where the down and outs hang out. Needless to say we didn't linger well,lets face it, you've seen one Mayan temple you've seen them all.

As the sun starts to set we see queues of hundreds of people waiting for taxis. Most odd. We head to a bar for a couple of beers, they don't see too many gringos round here and there's a lot of staring so we head off for a Chinese, the book (!) say sits the best value option in town. I order chicken fried rice, it's huge. One great mound of rice and chicken, all the same colour - a sort of brown - without any vegetables. I manage about half before I start clock watching. The warnings are be in before 8pm.

At around 11pm I hear a noise that sounds suspiciously like a gun shot but eventually fall asleep. At 2am I hear several more gunshots, by 2.30am there's what sounds like a running street battle going on. It is terrifying although there are two locked metal gates between us and the outside world. By 4am it quiets down enough to drift off.

We're assured by the hotel manager the following morning that Tegucigalpa is safe and we must have been mistaken, whilst the television behind him shows pictures of dead people on the streets with their faces blown off. By 8am we're on our first of 5 buses to Leon in Nicaragua, a safe and peaceful haven, oh apart from the smoking volcano just down the road that is.