The German Bar

Minutes before the angry gentleman shot his gun into the air, a group of white kids were off from the Via Via (outside of which we were chilling) and headed to the "German Bar". "Are you guys coming?" they asked as they started walking. They weren't our crowd, even if we were closer in age to them than the two fellas we had been hanging with; Larry, in his mid-sixties and from Kentucky, and Compton, a black guy in his mid-fifties from Toronto.

We're closer to them in world view and disposition. We told the youngins to go on ahead, and maybe we'll come by some other time.

The next day, after the horseback ride and before the Super Bowl, we decided to visit this German Bar and check it out for ourselves. We met up with Larry, and he joined us on our little adventure of discovery.

Sol de Copan is name of this establishment. It was started by Tomas Wagner, a German expatriate who has been in Honduras for a few years. He has a family he looks after, and the bar blends two of his passions: providing for that family and brewing beer.

See, Tomas runs the only brew-pub in all of Honduras. His beer, Sol de Copan, is the only micro-beer in the whole country. When we visited he had a Heffeweizen and a Schwarzbier, or "black beer".

Corrie tried the Heffe while Larry and I sampled the black beer. Corrie eventually moved along to the black beer as well.

Tomas was a crack-up. He was 6'2" if he was a foot, and weighed maybe 170; fit tone over bones was this guy, long gray biker-style mustache and a gray ponytail. He was trying to get a bottling deal put together. If I remember correctly (and it wouldn't surprise me if I don't), I think he had a deal worked out with some local restaurants to offer his beer from a tapped keg.

Walking up a long hill will get to this awesome little treasure:



Once you get to the door, you have walk downstairs to get to the bar and restaurant itself:



The spaetzl was good, but my stew wasn't quite done long enough.

The Schwarzbier was excellent, easily the best beer I had throughout this trip.

After leaving, we split with Larry while planning to meet up with him and Compton at the Via Via later for the best (and maybe only) public seats for the Super Bowl. It was siesta time for sure. I napped well that afternoon, nursing my horse-riding regions and full of micro-brew.