The Life of a Digital Nomad: "Stuck" on an Island in Honduras

I have told this story to many people. On many different occasions. In different ways. And it's probably getting old. But I haven't told it on this blog. So here it is.

I spent the first part of the pandemic on a tropical island in Honduras.

I was already a digital nomad when the world changed in March 2020. And my reality and how I lived those first initial, uncertain months, was completely different from that of most people I know.

Here's one of my favourite stories about my life so far.

I loved Camp Bay Lodge from the start but little did I know I'd end up spending 5 months there.

March 2020

I was with a friend who met up with me for her 2 week vacation on the beautiful island of Roatan. A few days before her scheduled return, we got the news the world was shutting down. It was all very confusing. Her flight was the last flight confirmed to leave the island for Canada (from that airline). I spoke to the agent to try to get on it too but was told I couldn't get on because they were taking their passengers back. I had to refer to my airline - the one that had brought me to Roatan.

Young and naive! Audray and I before the world changed.

But I had gotten there by ferry, after taking a shuttle from Guatemala. I wasn't the typical tourist and got treated accordingly. I saw another Canadian airline had one flight available. I booked it. It got cancelled that very same evening. With no option to rebook.

My plan had originally been to meet up with someone special in Utila. Then travel back to Guatemala, slowly. And maybe from there, follow the mountains down to the tip of Argentina. Or fall deeply in love and run away into the forest. Needless to say those plans were put on hold. The boy was stuck in Guatemala and the girl (that's me) was trying to get back to Canada.

Everyone was telling me to get "home" as quickly as possible. It didn't feel right but I looked for flights again. My family told me to book that $7000 40hrs journey to Quebec. I thought they were insane. Those couple days were probably my first real initiation to anxiety. Friends who I thought understood my lifestyle were telling me to come home. But where was home? I had no house, no life in Canada. Somehow, I felt betrayed.

Then I realised I was living and thinking in fear. The situation felt like a test from the universe. Continue pushing for my lifestyle, my choices and compromises, or give up and go back to what society was telling me to do. So I switched my thoughts and decision making to ones of love.

The most beautiful hammock I got in Antigua - It was meant to be an indoors hammock for my future home...

The amazing owners of the lodge I was at assured me they would stay open for the guests who stayed behind. They offered me a "student" rate to stay and wait it out. Some guests planned their departures, while others decided to stay put. A community was forming. I announced my decision: I would stay in Honduras until it no longer felt right.

And then I was free. Mentally, spiritually. It was the best decision. Ever.

I unpacked the precious fancy hammock I had purchased in Antigua and settled in.

April 2020

Life was good. Work was slow or non-existent. But I had my routine of getting up with the sun and doing yoga before the lovely breakfast was served. Then the day would pass by effortlessly under the sun. Walks on the beach. Catching up with the news which felt completely alien. Reading, writing. Netflix evenings with the crew. (We started La Casa de Papel from season 1 and took weeks to watch all the episodes. It was one of many highlights.)

At first no one left the premises (except to walk down the empty beach). Then we found out we were allowed to go to the grocery shop on a certain day, depending on the first number of our ID papers. Going to Eldon's was like going on a field trip. What would we find that would enhance our lives? A new hair product? An inflatable unicorn?

Not only did we find an inflatable unicorn, we also found a flamingo

Eventually we also found out about a café that remained opened. (Some people apparently live above the law....) What a treat! Although I can't say it was nicer than having fresh coconut water on demand.

While it seemed most of the world lived in fear and isolation, and Honduras mainland was approaching a state of Martial Law, we, in Roatan, lived a blissful life. And because we were on the quieter East end of the island, we were completely left alone, left to do as we pleased.

Food was still coming in by boat into the grocery store but no one was coming on or off the island. It was paradise. I had my mom send a care package with some extra clothes from Canada. It arrived via cargo ship a couple weeks later. It felt like Christmas. And it even included a can of maple syrup. (yes, a can - not a bottle. If you know you know.)

Coconut water doesn't get any fresher than this!

May 2020

I loved my routine and could find no boredom. But I got talked into learning how to kite. I was, after all, in a world class location for it. Warm turquoise waters, protected by a distant reef, with constant and ideal winds.

So I got started. Ended up with the most handsome and charismatic kite teacher. And I was actually good at kiting. I could hardly believe how good my life was.

Things started opening up around the island. For some reason, Roatan was imposed different rules from the federal government. Like a favourite child.

People from out West would book a room at the lodge for a change of scenery. It was so exciting to see who would turn up. Some beautiful souls. This is how our tribe grew. I made friends who are still in my life today. I didn't want the pandemic to end. I wanted to live like that forever.

But we had our share of rollercoasters too. After the most memorable day out at the local brewery, everything shut down again. Roatan had its first case. It was our turn.

It is crazy to think how easily we get used to new "freedoms" and take them for granted. Our livelihood hung on the daily video updates from the mayor, shared on Facebook. We found out important information via WhatsApp groups. Connected in a way that would have seemed truly disconnected to an outsider.

The local fruit and veggies truck still came by twice a week though. So all was good.

June 2020

Time passed. We celebrated birthdays. My favourite couple got engaged. We threw an engagement party. Possibly my favourite night of my whole time in Roatan.

One birthday we had a boat party. One day we explored a jade beach further East, accessible by boat only, owned by a suspiciously rich and faceless man. Everything felt unreal. The consistent sun. The laughs. The calm with no storm on the horizon.

We went on a couple of kiting trips. More turquoise waters. More islands. Improving my kiting skills. Once, I burnt my eyes and couldn't open them for over 24 hours.

We watched sunsets and pondered on the world. We took paddle boards out to the reef. We cooled down in the clear waters and pretended there were no crocodilos.

We watched baby turtles hatch and travel to the sea. We adopted a stray dog. We took turns hanging out with the kids and watching over them. We were a true community.

Community sunset - Those kids were like ours

We took online yoga classes (like so many others, except we had an intriguing tropical background in lieu of a couch or kitchen table). It seemed to me that keeping healthy was the most sensible thing to do. As opposed to becoming inactive and ordering junk (not that that was an option for me anyways).

Camp Bay Lodge has such a beautiful yoga deck

But that's something I never understood about the turn of events. If there's a deadly virus around, surely keeping healthy in every possible way is a good tactic. Except for the occasional Monkey Lala's, I think I did pretty good. I even got initiated to taking ice baths... something that later morphed into Canadian glacier lake dips. An addiction.

Eventually, we finished La Casa de Papel and one of the boys caught a flight home. Then the American couple I loved so much booked a flight too.

Here's the thing though. We were never really "stuck". There were always ways to leave. We just didn't really want to. And so we rode the wave as long as it felt right.

July 2020

It was my turn to celebrate my birthday. We got a boat to an Eastern local town, ate good food, had drinks on a deserted beach and then did a beach cleanup. We returned to the staff having built the biggest bond fire anyone has ever built for me. Because they knew how much I love camping and everything that comes with it.

I felt loved. I felt blessed. I felt fulfilled.

It was time to leave.

Everyone knows nothing lasts forever. And recognizing when to let go, when to move on is almost an art form. I believe I left at the exact right time.

Through WhatsApp groups, I was able to secure a seat on a small plane charted for Fort Lauderdale. From there, Air Canada would take me to Toronto, and then continue further to Quebec City, where I could safely quarantine.

Arriving in Canada in the middle of summer, when all measures eased up and people found happiness again made the transition as easy as it could be.

But it was still very weird to arrive in a world where people feared each other. Where people took masks and distancing seriously. Where they pointed fingers and called out their neighbours. It was a shock. It made me sad. And I craved a sense of community again.

Shortly after, everything lined up for me to move back to British Columbia. But that's another story. Maybe the next one I'll tell... 😘

Here are some bonus images because I have too many to pick from for this post: