Jade Seahorses Found on Island of Utila

I could see that the trip from mainland Honduras eastward to the island of Utila in a overloaded catamaran on a fully boiled ocean was not going to end well. Indeed, anyone who had not had a chance to pop a gravol pill before boarding was definitely doomed. One-and-a-half fitful hours later, we’re thankfully on terra firma. And a most unusual terra firma it was.

Slow Living on Utila

OK,  I know the guide books said that this is a backpackers/diver’s mecca, but I expected to see something resembling its neighbour, Roatan, i.e., the bays, the bugs, the babes, the vistas. But take away the luxury hotels, the relentless taxi traffic, the well-heeled North Americans, and put in gardenia-scented walkways, fenced Belizian-like homes, golfcarts, bicycles and a greater ‘Garifuna’ presence (the name of the people descended from the African slave refugees from St. Vincent in the 18^th century) and you have Utila. It appealed to us immediately. It was real; post-pirate, post-colonial and pre-paved. And then there was our accommodation at the Jade Seahorse!

Magical Jade Seahorse

Was it the thousands of glass bottles, marbles, mosaics, and mirrors enmeshed in ceramic tiles inlaid in clay sculptured walls, bridges, grottos, and staircases that appealed to our Alice in Wonderland/Hansel & Gretel sensibilities? Or was it the colours of the wood-framed cottages; the purples, the oranges, and turquoises wildly giving way to the rich rose reds, candy greens and yellows? Or perhaps it was the sculptures and shapes. Not one wall, ceiling or door left unadorned, railing unscalloped or a roof unturreted. Each architectural twist giving you the sensation that this world, all perfectly perched in its jungle-book setting, had just suddenly appeared. It was a story in stone, glass, wood, plaster and nature.  We paid homage to its creator with every photo taken.

Exploring Utila

The premiere pleasure of Utila and the Jade Seahorse was our private ‘moon terrace’ – i.e., rooftop patio, which during the day proved to be the perfect sunporch and retreat from beach sandflies and bustling streets. I happily wrote in my travel journal and read my fourth novel of the trip luxuriating in the tropical breeze that cooled that sunporch. Short jaunts about town, through the main street strewn with bars, diveshops, old hippies, new hippies, dogs, children, scooters, golfcarts, bicycles, garbage, to the two beaches that lay on either side of the town, and the walkway that meandered as far as the little island’s new airport, yielded numerous insights into the unique life of this island.

Tropical Evenings at Mariposa

Sourcing places to eat at night was a daily pleasure.  Mariposa, a bright, clean Norwegian-run restaurant that leaned long into the waters of the Caribbean (and away from the high octane energy and noise of the main street), became our place of choice at sunset. With our flashlight in hand, this would be followed by ‘Nightland’ at the Jade Seahorse. Chased by a warm tropical breeze. Another Honduran treasure.