Planet Kapow 30 : Leon to Granada

"PASSPORTS, PLEASE,": says the Honduran official brusquely. We're sitting on the Nicaraguan border at six in the morning, after an epic bus journey across Honduras, from the thick jungle of the north through the lakes and plains of the centre to the dust and traffic and power lines of Tegucigalpa, the capital, an immensely unpleasant city where everything is decayed and broken, red like rust, red like dried blood, all the properties stacked with rusted automobile parts, children playing in the driver's seat of a forklift abandoned among the debris. "There is a five dollar departure tax," says the official. No, there isn't, replies Adam, and the official glares but stamps his passport. read more: http://www.planetkapow.com/1747