with my love, day one:
"The planes land us in the sweltering heat, you can feel it in the air you breathe, coming up from the tarmac. We wait in immigration, get put in the wrong line and have to merge back.
My very first passport stamp.
I am immediately struck by all of the new plants I see when we -finally- gather our luggage and exit the airport (and I use the term 'airport' loosely) . All of the signs are first in Spanish and then in English. I’m in the back seat, holding onto both overhead handles (we are driving a sort of Jimmy looking affair that has already stalled twice on us and pauses to consider before consenting to change gears). Everything here is poor; the people, the homes, you name it. Everything but the view, everything but my interest. I can’t get enough looking, everything is new… Welcome to Roatan."

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