10 kilometres after the Guatemalan border, we made our first stop in Copán Ruinas, famous for its Maya ruins. This unique World Heritage Site, protected by UNESCO, is said to be the greatest sight in Honduras. We spend half a day on a guided tour to learn more about the background and history of the Maya. At the "Espresso Americano" we enjoy a really good cappuccino for the first time in ages. Because the beans are exported, good coffee cannot be taken for granted. Copán Ruinas, firmly in the hands of tourism, stands out for its many restaurants, souvenir shops and cobbled streets.

In drizzle and under an overcast sky, which is nothing unusual here, we leave this well-kept provincial town. On the way towards "La Entrada" we come across herds of cattle, women at the river, pigs being transported, and muddy roads buried by landslides. Because of the constant rain and washouts, many stretches of road have turned into soggy clay tracks. After 50 metres the wheels and brakes jam, and the mud gets into the chain, cassette and cranks. This forces us to clean our bikes several times. With "water jets" from PET bottles, we have to get the parts moving again, an extremely time-consuming business. Just before La Entrada, Alexandre gets his fourth flat tyre. Well practised at patching by now, we fix this mishap quickly.

On the way to Santa Rosa there are again many "ups and downs", and 500 metres of climbing at an 11% gradient. We reach Gracias after dark and look for a hotel. At "La Posada Don Juan", the best hotel in town, we spend the night for just 25 US dollars. When we ask about the road ahead to "La Esperanza", we learn that it is officially closed. The dirt road has been badly damaged by the constant rain, and the clean-up work is still going on. Only "going back" with a long detour via San Salvador would get us on to Nicaragua. We set off to find a four-wheel-drive vehicle with a driver to take us from Gracias to La Esperanza.

As we pass heavy construction machinery, we realise that under normal conditions this stretch would take at least 3 days by bike. After a 3-hour drive on a bone-shaking track, with 5 other passengers squeezed in between the luggage and the bikes, and 3,000 lempira (150 US dollars) lighter, we reach La Esperanza after 80 kilometres. Thanks to the Lenca people, whose code of honour stands for honesty, this town is considered the safest in Honduras.

In rain showers we leave La Esperanza on unpaved, pot-holed and waterlogged roads. An "insider tip" from a local takes us over the mountains to Marcala on the old pass road. Far from civilisation, we enjoy 30 kilometres of car-free dirt road leading us through vast mountain forests. At these altitudes, fog, drizzle and changing temperatures with sunny spells are nothing unusual, so we have to put our rain gear on and take it off again several times. This stretch would make an excellent mountain bike route with long downhills. After 5 hours we are back on solid asphalt, which takes us to Marcala.

For just 9 US dollars including drinks, we eat plenty and well in a Honduran-Chinese restaurant. This town stands out for its well-kept appearance, shops with neatly arranged displays, and good hotel accommodation. In the local café we sketch the distance and elevation profile for the next stage on a paper napkin. Helpful information from a lorry driver helps us master the 700 metres of climbing ahead to La Paz. Good preparation spares us the extra strain of riding into the unknown. And so we reach our destination just in time, before the short dusk sets in.

The road from La Paz to Tegucigalpa, the capital of Honduras, has some obstacles that should not be underestimated. 70 kilometres in one day, more than 1,000 metres of climbing, nowhere to spend the night and not much food on the way do not seem doable to us. According to information at the bus terminal, there is thick fog with poor visibility in this mountain region, it rains again and again, and it is dangerous (we don't know exactly why).

We decide to continue by "chicken bus" to Tegucigalpa. We strap the Kogas onto the roof of the bus with the 5 straps we brought with us (2 cm wide, 1 m long, with a buckle). To avoid damage to the bikes, it's a good idea to tie them down yourself. An extra tip for the driver motivates him to steer around the potholes. After 2 hours we arrive in hectic, noisy Tegucigalpa, and are greeted by rubbish, smog, foul smells and traffic grinding to a standstill. We had actually wanted to spend a night in the capital of Honduras. Our first impressions of Tegucigalpa made us decide to carry on to Danlí and get there before dark (on the advice of a fellow passenger). Around midday, changing buses at the terminal 1 kilometre away becomes a real test and needs strong nerves. Every bus has its own stop, and this in a part of town you would never walk through by choice.

After an adventurous 3½-hour (85-kilometre) bus ride to Danlí, we are relieved to have survived it without any spectacular incidents. As we already knew only too well, we passed collapsed stretches of road, a lorry being pulled out of the mud, and construction workers with picks and shovels, surrounded by onlookers waiting for the road to reopen. With just two wheel-widths to spare, we drive past a 20-metre stretch where half the road has broken away. Below the damaged lane, several houses have been buried by the broken-off chunks and the mud. Because it is a main road with two-way traffic, the vehicles keep rolling over the unsecured stretch of road. Worrying and extremely dangerous! In comparison, the "rowdy ride" with our private driver was more harmless than this "20-metre stretch".

Before crossing the border into Nicaragua: one last visit to the lavandería to have our laundry washed, and a trip to the supermarket for the food and drinks we need, so we can set off for "Las Manos" (the Honduras/Nicaragua border) at 07:00 the next morning. In the evening, after 51 kilometres, we want to reach the town of Ocotal in our 4th country.

After 290 kilometres we leave Honduras with these memories:

All in all, we liked Honduras better than Guatemala. The country feels more cultivated, the hotels are better kept, and we enjoyed the food more. In Honduras the roads are not yet paved everywhere. Where they are, the surface is excellent and free of potholes. The central highlands are mountainous, wooded and green. The people seem more open to us, and most of them live in houses rather than wooden shacks. In our view, the standard of living is clearly higher than in Guatemala. We always felt comfortable and never in any way threatened or unsafe. Except at night, when it's better not to ride at all, you can get around safely on the roads.