Via Danlí (with supermarket) we reach El Paraiso right before the Nicaraguan border. Not even one of the Honduran police officers who were regarded as extremely corrupt in the past (and partially are still today) wanted anything from us. One reason might be that we didnt even touch the Pan Americana thats mainly used by tourists. The countrys inhabitants are helpful and friendly, maybe even a bit lethargic: Honduras is the only of the Central American countries that never had a civil war of a revolution despite military dictatorships.
In spite of its promising name The Paradise El Paraiso is a nondescript quiet town. We ask for a spending a night in a completely run-down, decayed lido. After a glance to the truck and an extended pause for thought how much the tourists could be squeezed until the pips squeak the manager wants an absurd demand of 200 HNL. Greed involves the danger of getting nothing. Joerg jumps into the truck and just drives off. We have realized a pizzeria with big lot on the other side of town. The responsible there quickly consent to our wish. I change my tactic: Instead of asking for fees I make enquiries about the dinner. The pizzas are huge, on medium-sized instead of two with starter would have been enough for the two of us, but they are still delicious next day when cold. We dont get a written invoice, thats why we cant comprehend why we pay less than calculated according to the menu. Recommended: Mi Pequeño Jardín, El Paraiso, N 13°5304.1 W 86°3315.4.