Trujillo Museum...

We are awakened by a hundred cocks crowing. I am not unfamiliar with the sound of cocks crowing in the early morning, but this is different. Due to some acoustic anomaly, perhaps being up high above the town, we get to hear them all. Every single solitary last one of them, and it is deafening.
We also discover that the mosquito netting works both ways. A clever mosquito has established herself inside our security tent and is having a field day. Once every fifteen minutes we perform the 'Mosquito Salute', which consists of being buzzed by the high pitched critter in utter darkness, whereupon one smartly slaps oneself in the head. It is at such times that I wonder if any Human Being has ever actually managed to kill a mosquito by using this technique. I think not.
After about three hours of deafening cacophony, the sky starts to brighten. Dazed and bitten, I go out on the balcony and am graced by one of the finest dawns I have ever had the good fortune to experience. It is good to be alive. At any time of the day the view from the Hotel Villa Brinkley is wonderful, but it does not compare to those wonderful moments one is treated to as the new day begins.
The Brinkley does a real nice inexpensive breakfast on its highest balcony, where the view is at its best. Even if you have lodging in a hotel in Trujillo, it is worth coming up to the Brinkley for breakfast. Mind you, it's a gamble, as with most things with the Brinkley. One cook is fantastic, the other is sourly and slothful. You take your chances, but as I said, the view is great. Take a taxi up, walk down.
As with all great things, there is an Achilles heel, and the Hotel Brinkley is no exception. As Mrs. Brinkley feverishly continues add further wings to her hotel, the former constructions slowly sink back into the jungle. Termites are busy on the porch of room number four; electrical wires hang from various forgotten outlets, the shrubbery that used to grace the sunken bath has long since died and has not been replaced; it is strange to take a shower hemmed in by two mounds of soil.
One of her frustrated long term lodgers confided, "If she'd spend just a fraction of the effort and money that she lavishes on new construction towards the upkeep of the hotel at large, this would be a four star hotel. She should get a manager too." I agree with his latter sentiment; I waited a full hour to be handed a menu in a dining room with only five people in it.
A combination of reasons caused us to change hotels after a few days; the distance from town, chiefly among them combined with the fact that room number four had been reserved ahead of time by someone else who knew a good thing. All in all, I had a great time at the Hotel Villa Brinkley. I'll go there again...if I can get room number four.
The Hotel Trujillo is unspectacular, but cheap and clean. No mosquitoes*, TV. We became quite fond of Mexican soap operas during our short stay there. The place was quiet, good sleeping.
There is a museum in Trujillo. A visit to Trujillo without a pilgrimage to the museum is a life wasted.
As you enter the museum, you are not sure you have come to the right place; it looks a little like a large farm house. Then you spot the remnants of a couple of airplanes under an enormous tree. There are plaques commemorating the twenty one American military men who died in the crash of a Hercules back in the ol' Oliver North days.
A small unassuming man with thick glasses comes over and greets you. He shows you the entrance, you leave any bags you might have in an enclosed area, and in you go.
The place is a cross between an avante garde art exhibition, pawnshop, happening and Pre Colombian artifact museum. I have it upon good authority - that is a TV program I saw on this guy back in the U.S. - that the Mayan artifacts are indeed genuine and exceptional. The western archeologists do not like this museum because nothing is dated or in any particular order; rusted out guns from the 1880's lean up against calculators from the 1950's. Mayan artifacts share space with a collection of paper money and coins from around the world.
The curator and owner has had some of the Mayan artifacts stolen so he has to be more security conscious, he quietly explains as he winds up an old gramophone for us and plays a record which has a flamingo flavor. The singer is really rather good. We that realize this unassuming man has good taste.
After perusing the museum for about an hour I find I am suffering from information overload. I can't look at another animal bone, rusting tractor, hunters hat, church bell, coat rack, Spanish sword, barbers chair, corn grinder, or photo collection (which is extensive and interesting).
He smiles at us and asks if we would like to take a dip in the pools at the back of the museum. Is this man joking? No. He is quite sincere. We walk through the beautiful gardens behind the museum and through huge stands of bamboo and kapok trees.
The distant sound of rushing water is making its presence felt. I invariably find that I am hot and tired after an intense exploration through a museum, and this is the only museum I have ever come across that addresses this problem. I turn around and stare in awe at the curator/owner. This man is a genius! If he had performed this feat in the United States, he'd would have been a candidate for a MacArthur Foundation Award. Here he is considered a harmless crank, tolerated by the town because he gives the kids a nice place to swim.
The pools are in a tier system. Cool fresh water gushes down from the pristine mountain jungle above and cascades into his concrete pools which he has lovingly built with his own hands over a span of forty years. There are tables and chairs placed in various locations around the pools; some are for large groups of people, seating in other locations are more out of the way and secluded. The water is cool and refreshing. This is paradise. For sheer entertainment, wonder and relaxation, the Trujillo museum beats any of the other museums I visited in Honduras. Five stars. One of the unexpected benefits of the United States obsession with drug trafficking is a really well engineered road that winds up to a radar installation at the top of the mountains behind Trujillo.
We spent a morning walking up this excellent road, which winds through some of the most delightful tropical vegetation I have ever seen.
The beaches in trujillo bay are lovely. A slew of restaurants have opened directly below the town, all of them serving pretty much the same fare. You can sit here out of the sun, occasionally going for a dip after which you can return and order a drink. A very nice way to spend the day.