The trip to Honduras was remarkable mostly for how well everything went. For the most part... The first glitch happened because I decided to just pay the overweight charges rather than squeeze down to 50 lbs each in my 2 bags. When I got to the airport, there was an 'embargo' on Honduras flights (so they said...) where there were no overweight allowances at all. So, I had to take 10 lbs out of luggage and put it somehow into my already overstuffed carry on and day pack. I wasn't exactly within the allowance for carry on when I went on through security. I had 3 things tied around my waist, and my small day pack as well as my larger one (which is barely allowed as it is). My rolling carry on got hand inspected because of a small electric alarm clock Mom gave me at the last minute when I decided my alarm clock was too big. The guy who did it was very nice, and even repacked my bag for me. I was still trying to corral my other stuff while he was doing it. I made my connection in Houston with time to spare.
The flight down to Honduras itself was smooth and uneventful. I had been warned by friends that only specially certified pilots were allowed to land at the main airport because it is so tricky. There was rain and fog at the airport when we got there, and the pilot warned us that he might have to go around and try from the other direction. He pulled out fairly early. We went around and tried again, and he pulled out again. We went back into a holding pattern to wait out the rain and gain better visibility. He assured us we had over 3 hours of fuel on boar. After another failed attempt, he mentioned the possibility of diverting to another airport. I wasn't happy to hear that because I was to be met at this airport, and I was afraid I'd be on my own at a different one. Finally, after another attempt, he went for it, and we landed. We applauded as he brought the plane to a stop.
I was met by the lady I had been assured would be there to help me through immigration. She took my paperwork and passport and wisked me through everything. As we came out 3 local guys came up and grabbed my luggage and took off. I looked at her concerned and she assured me they were her sons. I followed helplessly, and we headed out, with the oldest one (more or less my age) made conversation with me in English. Turned out he and his Mom and I would drive half way in his small truck with a broken windshield to meet Wendy, my contact I had expected to be at the airport.