Finally, we emerged on what we thought was the other road on the island, checked that the coast was clear and pulled out. ‘What an excellent road’, I thought, ‘and so wide, and so empty, so un-Central American…’ Then I saw the tower. “Dan, I think we are on an airport runway”, I shouted in his ear (he was driving). He laughed nervously (or hysterically) and floored the quad bike as I looked around desperately searching to see if a plane was coming into land. Luckily, it was just us, our two friends on their dirt bikes and two friendly army officers with huge machine guns who helpfully let us out of the main gate.

Utila is part of Honduras and where we decided to go so I could fulfil my dream of becoming a mermaid. It is such a small island you feel like a local after three days. And you’ve met most of the locals after four. Most travellers stay longer because it’s the cheapest place to scuba dive in the world. We were there for about a week.

Dan fancied going fishing and befriended Zorro, the local fisherman who offered to take him on an early morning trip. “Be shur ta be at da darck at fa tamarrow”, he said in his English creole drawl. Dutifully Dan was there waiting at 4 the next morning but no sign of Zorro, who had obviously had a big night the night before, not unlike us. A proper Caribbean storm raged overhead and with a hangover to match Dan crawled back to bed.

About half an hour later the whole hostel was woken up to the sounds of Zorro walking around shouting, “Ya wana go fishin buddy”, and knocking on everyone’s doors. I nudged Dan, who had fallen back asleep instantly and told him his ride was here. He told me to stay quiet because they was no way he was going fishing in this weather and didn’t want to give away our location, should Zorro get a crow bar and kidnap him from bed.

Utila is a real mix of people, which makes the island a fascinating place. We spoke to locals with accents that had twangs of Scottish or Northern Irish and who spoke mainly English and their version of Spanish. Then there are Hondurans from the mainland who mainly speak Spanish and some English. Then there’s travellers from all over the world, teaching diving, learning to dive or running local businesses. We spoke to though are firmly islanders first and Hondurans second.

This Caribbean island has it all. Even whale sharks at certain times of the year. Sadly, not in October. On one of my four dives a nurse shark decided to befriend me. My instructor gave me the signal that there was a shark so I turned around and it swam straight up to me. I know they won’t hurt humans but I still put my flippers up in self-defence. Happily, it was just saying hello.

We finished off our time in Honduras in a lodge in the jungle, in the shadow of Pico Bonito mountain. For my birthday I had the choice of a 16 hour bus journey to Guatemala or hanging on in Honduras for a few days. Having been surrounded by people for the previous month it was strange to find ourselves in a totally empty hotel for my birthday. Pretty much the only day you wouldn’t mind a crowded hostel bar. Dan gallantly played cards with me for a few hours and we were sleeping soundly by half 10. That’s turning 31 folks!