El Tropicano Wades Into the Heart of Darkness

Picture this, Reader: Senor T wading mid-thigh high in a mangrove swamp in the middle of a tropical Caribbean island. The smell of sulfur is thick. The mosquitoes are horrific, biting me on the legs with impunity. Tropicano is wearing a bathing suit and the T-Shirt pictured above. Shoes were more trouble than they were worth in the swamp, so I carried them mostly.

After emerging from what can only be described as a heart of darkness and a gateway to Hades, a deserted beach with clear water and sand; soft enough to sell to rich old ladies looking to stay young. There, I ate coconut flesh and sipped coconut milk, while washing swamp mud off my body.

After an hour of lounging, we began our return voyage, avoiding the stench of Hades and instead trekking over volcanic rock through the bush. At one point, we had to cross a formerly alligator infested bay. Our ruffian guide informed us that alligators still roamed, inducing bowel loosening fear among the group.

This trek through the swamps of Utila is not recommended.