Category Archives: Panama

Epilogue

17 Wednesday Jun 2009

Posted by in Central America, Panama

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I always start with the best of intentions to write a summary of my travels once I’m home. Something about the return to the familiar surroundings of reality usually squishes any creative impulse left in me to write; its as if the inspiration created by the constantly new stimuli fades away leaving nothing but…despair.

Yes. The culture shock of coming home is bad. All who have traveled for an extensive period of time are aware of this. Well. Let me tell you: it is made even worse by 1 – not having a job or significant other to come home to, and 2 – not having a crowd of people ready to throw you a “welcome home party”.

I was not even enthused significantly when I discovered that I had passed the CFP examination that I had been studying so hard for, during the months leading up to the trip.

Or worse yet: friends who’ve had you off their radar for so long they won’t even answer your wall-to-wall on Facebook.

As you can tell, I am sad to be home. And I’m going to need a lot of encouragement if I’m going to finally put pen to paper (figuratively of course) and make this blog into a book which I’ve been talking about writing for at least ten years, and still have done nothing about.

So, a conclusion of sorts to my time in Central & South America. That’s what I’ve been asked to write. Ok. I think I only have the strength to do this in list format. So, here goes:

1 – What were your favorite things about Central America?

– Its always warm enough to throw on a tank top, shorts, and a pair of flip flops.

– The men will ALWAYS remind you that you are a sexy, desirable, woman by hollering at you from every possible vantage point.

– People have an incredibly apparent sense of community and family. They stop and talk to each other on the street (forget Facebook!) They offer rides to each other as they drive down the street. They go out as families in the evening. They all live together under one roof and share everything they own. They take care of their elders.

– It seemed perfectly normal to be drinking beer at 10 o’clock in the morning.

– Oh! 50c beers! Ladies drink for free!

– Less than 40 feet of visibility seemed like a good reason not to go diving. (WHAT was I thinking??)

– Chicken buses with blaring music and a strobe light on the ceiling!

– Volcanoes

– Same power outlet voltages as back home

– Lots of adrenaline activities to try out – white water rafting/kayaking, canyoning, zip-lining canopy…

– No one is in a hurry to DO ANYTHING

Things I hated about Central America:

– No one is in a hurry to DO ANYTHING

– Each time you past a roadside store, restaurant and shop, it would be a requirement for there to be at least two stray dogs, and at least one, if not several crying, underclothed children.

– The idea of buying fast food fried chicken, and the speed at which it would happen is the equivalent to placing an order with God on a slip of paper.

– Forget trying to complain. About anything. Ever.

– Trash, everywhere…especially plastic bottles. People throw trash into rivers, and out of the windows of moving vehicles.

– Can’t order ice with your drink, or drink tap water anywhere except Panama City.

– Rice and beans does not constitute a good breakfast food item.

– If you sit down to order a meal in a restaurant, the wait staff will quickly think of ways to actively ignore you, for fear they might be required to actually do some work

– Chicken buses. That do not cater to the leg length of any individuals past Grade 8.

– “Is it safe?” is a question you have to leave behind in the hotel room.

– What were your favorite things about Peru and Bolivia?

– When my mountain guide told me how beautiful I was. And then proceeded to explain how all foreign women are SO BEAUTIFUL.

– Vast, breathtaking altiplano expanses.

– The incredible Andes mountains with their jagged snow capped peaks which begged me to climb them, altitude sickness be damned!

– Coca leaves. Observing what an active part of the culture they play. How chewing is as socially acceptable among friends as meeting for a drink is back home. How black it made everyone’s teeth.

– Llamas. And Alpacas. How cute they were. And how tasty!

– Inca Kola. How yellow it was. How popular it was- way more than Coca Cola.

– How almost every conversation, with every traveller you met, started with: “So, where are you from? Where are you travelling? Where are you going next/where’ve you been? How long are you going to be away?”

– How many conversations I had that last more than a few hours, at which point I realized that I didn’t know the person’s name.

– Ordering a meal which includes cocktails, wine, steak, and dessert for under $10!

– Things I hated about travelling in South America:

– Hostels that have become overrun with groups of Israeli backpackers, who clearly did not leave their country to experience any other culture other than their own.

– Paying for toilets. And the “whammy” system (which usually came out as just one whammy). Single whammy – toilet was clean enough to stomach using. Double – it had toilet paper. Triple – there was hand soap (which usually moved me to tears), and finally, Quadruple whammy – when you didn’t have to pay for it!!

– Long overnight bus journeys that contained every human endurance test known: Blaring loud violent movies to sleep through, temperatures ranging from a modern convection oven to the arctic. Seats that lovingly promised to recline which then failed to. Seats so large you bounced around in them like a ball in a ping pong machine. Death by Pan Flute music. All night. Creepy, secluded bus stations full of a few people who will hound you as you sleepily stumble off of the bus at 3:30 in the morning.

– How there are basically two directions you can travel through Peru and Bolivia in…and for a while, how each time I met somebody really cool that I could hang with- they would be travelling in the opposite direction to me.

– How you could never let your bags out of your sight. Even in Public bathrooms…hauling your backpack into the stall with you, being hardly unable to close the door!

– Never getting used to the altitude, past Cusco. I was always huffing to walk up a steep street. Knowing that people here are just born with a different lung capacity to my own.

In any case…I had a fantastic journey, which I must now turn into a book.

In summary:

Days away from home -76
Separate flights flown – 13
Countries visited – 7
Number of friends connected with on Facebook -24
Number of men I kissed – 3
Days spent at altitude -36
Days spent on bikes – 3
Archaeological sites visited – 5
Days I got up before 5am -12 (!!!!)
Days spent on buses (entirely) -11
Days spent in the jungle -5
Days spent in cities -19
Days of diving – 1
Days of snorkeling – 7
Days on tropical beaches -13
Nights in a tent under the stars – 6
Days spent hiking or climbing a mountain – 17 (!!!!)
Nights spent on overnight buses – 5
Religious festivals observed – 3

AND….number of first things attempted!

-Canopy “zip lining”
– Canyoning
-Riding a scooter
– Eating Alpaca/Llama
– Sand buggy/boarding
– Climbing a 20,000 foot mountain
– Going to a wrestling match
– Biking down the “world’s most dangerous road”

Panama Adventure II

03 Wednesday Jun 2009

Posted by in Costa Rica, Panama

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I am sitting in an Internet cafe in Alajuela, a tiny town north of San Jose that is just a five minute cab ride from the International Airport. At 8am tomorrow, I will board the first of three planes bound for Seattle. What an incredible journey and experience it has been. I plan to write an epilogue of sorts when I get home (I’m sure I’ll have more perspective then too!) but for now, here is the last week of my time in the beautiful country of Panama.

I last left you in the mountain town of Boquette, as I was de–Bocasing and coming down from the high of constant sun and parties. Boquette was a very quiet town. And quite chilly and rainy. Sadness! However, saying that, it really was beautiful and surrounded by lush cloud forest and Volcan Baru…the highest point in Panama. It was also famous for its whitewater, and Abraham and I decided to do a raft trip for the following day.

The alarm sounded at 6am, and we dragged ourselves out of bed to ready for the big day. I was very very sleepy, but the sight of extremely hot rafting guides in the van soon woke me up. he he. It was a two hour ride to the river, which we were told was in peak condition, for it was well into the rainy season, making some of the class IV rapids more like Class IV.5ish…. We’ll see!

The trip turned out to be very thrilling indeed. This was probably my sixth or seventh experience doing this, but I can honestly say I’ve never been through water this rough before. There were definitely moments where if you fell out of the boat you would have to kiss your own sweet ass goodbye. Curtains. Abraham did fall out of the boat, but luckily it was not in one of those places. It all happened so fast, and I went to move over to drag him back in the raft but found myself pinned down by the guy in front who had also fallen over by the ferocity of the water. Once all were safe and back in the boat, it was all a bit funny.

We were well and truly smashed by the end of the 3 hour long trip which included several portages and a lot of very heavy paddling. Lots of fun though, and once I had gotten more used to the constant rapids (there was no waiting between them like I’d found floating on other rivers, the thrills just kept on coming) I was able to relax a little more and just enjoy it.

By the time we got back into town, we both needed a nap which was glorious. Then we decadently returned to Boquette Bistro, and this time fell upon the Baked Brie and Chicken Teriyaki. Yum.

On our second day in Boquette I was starting to have difficulties deciding on my next travel destination. I had heard that Santa Catalina was a pretty coastal town that offered access to some of the best diving in Central America at Isla de Coiba. However, communication with the scuba company, or indeed any hoteliers down there was proving fruitless. On top of that, I was told it was an epic 8 hour journey there. Abraham and the girls were leaving for Panama City on the overnight bus, and if I went with them, I would have just enough time to visit the islands of the Comarca de Kuna Yale and the city before needing to come back to San Jose. It was either Coiba or the islands. Once I found out that a two tank dive was going to cost me $140 plus two days of travel time…I opted to head out that night to David and on to Panama City.

Trying to decide what to do that day, we stumbled across a place that rented scooters, and they looked like they would be a cheaper (not to say more fun) option for visiting some of the local waterfalls and hikes in the area. Abraham was very excited to try them, and since I could barely stay upright as I tried to drive one down a side street, we agreed that he would drive and I would be the passenger. We donned cute little helmets, filled the tanks with $2 of gas..and off we went into the hills to explore.

This was another “first””. I love doing things for the first time, and the scooters were a blast to ride and offered a unique perspective on the countryside around us. Abraham was loving the speed and corners, that is, until we were faced with giant hills where the tiny little engines sounded like they were issuing their last dying breath and at one point we were forced to dismount and push. Miraculously, we found the trail head to a 2 hour hike the owner of our hostel had recommended. It was a very pretty walk and I was enjoying the effortless way I seemed to be climbing uphill with the abundant oxygen in the air.

Driving back down to town I was determined to give “holding the reins” by driving the damn scooter myself another try. We fell about laughing as I crashed and burned several times, screaming along the way because there was a semi coming. At one point, Abraham had to reach over me and grab the brakes because we were “going down”. But I was determined and after learning to trust the bike itself (kind of like riding a push bike for the first time) I managed to drive all the way back to town, switching before traffic got too intense. Thank you for putting your life in my hands, Abraham!!

Heading back to the rental place, the heavens opened and pelted rain upon us. We got completely drenched, whereas our friends, who were five minutes ahead of us, stayed high and dry. But we’d had a great time.

We were to be on the 7pm bus to David, the second largest city in Panama, and then the overnight bus which was leaving at midnight. It was going to be a long night. David was by far one of the roughest cities I’d had the misfortune to spend a few hours in on this trip. Abraham and I walked around for hours looking for any restaurant that might be open, and we were told that everything was shut because it was…wait for it…8:30pm! Date night in David must be really hot and heavy. Eventually, after walking through dark rainy streets which looked like the perfect hangout for gang activity, we happened across a semi decent Chinese place before heading back to the terminal.

How I dislike overnight buses. This one turned out to be not so bad, actually. Somehow, having a seat which didn’t really recline very much helped me to fall asleep. Before it had felt like five minutes, we pulling into the bus station in the capital at 5:45am. Dazed and confused, we muddled out and got in a taxi bound for Casco Viejo, the older part of the city where the hostel Abraham had stayed at before was located: Luna’s Castle. Since beds weren’t ready yet, and Abraham was leaving that afternoon for Colombia, I offered to take him out for a final breakfast together before I made the most of the morning by visiting the Panama Canal. We found the best little cafe and ordered a slamming breakfast of fresh bread, eggs, bacon and goooooooood coffee for $4 each. It was fantastic, especially after that bus journey. I was very sad to see my Dutch friend leave, but he promised to meet up with me, maybe this year, and go diving together in the Red Sea….which I will hold him to!

I grabbed a cab and headed to the world famous waterway, trying to get there for 9am because that was when the big ships usually passed through. It was all rather fascinating though I was a little disappointed not to see any big cruise ships coming through. On top of that, my ex Jonathan, musician extraordinaire had only just finished his gig aboard Princess cruises and had been transiting the canal over the last several months and we’d missed each other by a few weeks. That would have been fun…to wave at him from the cafeteria as he stood on one of the ship’s balconies. Kind of like when we met up in Civvitavechia, hey Jonny?? 😉

I watched two ships pass through the Miraflores locks, one a container ship and the other an oil tanker. Seeing how little clearance the vessels have on either side is really astonishing, and how many people it takes to guide the ships through without hiccup. I really enjoyed the museum exhibits too which detailed future plans for two new sets of locks which would allow for much wider ships..up to 56 metres instead of the current 38 (gee, I hope I got that right…?) They also had a display on all of the bugs of Panama, and displayed dead samples of some of the largest and ugliest beetles, spiders, stick insects, crickets and moths.

By the time I got back to the hostel, my dorm bed was ready for me, and Abraham was still there with a fresh new hair cut. I gave him the gift I’d bought him at the canal…an emergency rain jacket, after what had happened on the last afternoon in Boquette. I bid my adieu, and then took a very needed shower and nap, hanging out in the hostel for the afternoon, arranging my trip for the next morning to head to San Blas (Comarca de Kuna Yale) and more Caribbean Paradise…

The Kuna are an indigenous people in Panama and have retained autonomy from Panamanian government and basically self govern. I was looking forward to seeing them and their beautiful costumes…the women in particular have a distinct look: short hair with a headscarf, lots of gold jewellery, layered very colorful print clothing, and most notably, large and ornate jewellery for the legs which cover from the ankle to the knee. I would be staying on an island called Senidup which was going to be a 90 minute boat ride from the Carti Airport where I flew into.

The flight I booked was only $40 (I didn’t know how long I was going to stay so I decided I would probably take the jeep option back to the city) and originally was scheduled to leave at 6am. So you can imagine my relief when I received an email stating that it would be delayed until 10! Yay!

I was meeting two friends that I’d made in Bocas del Toro on Isla Senidup. The transfer there went pretty smoothly but on arrival, I came to be informed by my friends that despite the fact that the island itself was only the size of a football field, there were two owners of two distinct set of huts. Turns out, I had reserved the huts on the wrong side of the island… No problem, right? Well, apparently, the two owners have kind of a war going on between them, and during my 3 day stay, it felt very much like I was in an episode of Lost, and I was one of the “Others”, because the two groups of backpackers staying on either side didn’t seem to mingle that well. Given the size of the island, it was a little ridiculous.

As was what happened when I first got there. Explaining to the owner that I wanted to stay with my friends on the other side of the island, he got very agitated and started demanding that I pay, and at one point, he and his 3 buddies had me cornered in a straw hut screaming about money and threatening to throw my bags in the ocean. The fact that this was supposed to be the idyllic paradise “get away from it all” island didn’t seem to be applying to my first encounter here. It turned out just to be a language mix up because all they had wanted was for me to pay for my boat transfer, which was easily accomplished by handing over $7. Phew.

Those 3 days were a very strange, wonderful and unique experience. I’ve visited many incredibly isolated and beautiful islands in my life…but I’ve never stayed on one that was this basic and untouched. And it was so cheap..one of the cheapest things I’ve done in my entire 3 months. The price was $20 a night for your hut, including breakfast, lunch and dinner! The days consisted of sleeping in till about 9am, walking around barefoot everywhere (even the straw huts had a sandy floor), eating meals in the communal straw hut, reading in hammocks looking over the crystal blue waters, snorkeling around the island’s reef about twice a day, sunbathing, napping, drinking, taking another swim, chatting to other travellers, playing cards, another nap…you get the picture? That first day I also took a day trip over to Isla Perros and had the distinct joy of snorkeling an artificial reef created by a shipwreck of a vessel that had the sense to sink in 20 feet of water. It was incredible and the visibility was great as was the variety of the fish.

It was a really relaxing time and I enjoyed the company of my fellow islanders muchly, especially Katherine and Fabio (who owned a restaurant in Casco Viejo which they invited me to come visit when I got back to the city) and a Brit named Gabi who, like me, escaped England to go work abroad in Austria 8 years ago. She especially liked my singing, and in the evenings, I would become a human jukebox and sing songs on the beach around a fire as we listened to the only other sound which was the waves lapping the shore. Of course you all know how much I must have hated that. 🙂

The afternoons on the island also brought thundershowers. It was a unique place to watch the lightning, especially in the evening when it lit up the entire sky. On my last morning there, we had a violent thunderstorm about 3am which lit up the whole island like it was daylight. Rain pouring in to my hut woke me up pretty suddenly…I had to switch bunks to avoid getting wet. My friends had left, and I admit to being a little frightened by the power of the thunderclaps which lasted for hours. What a memory though.

The only sad thing that happened during my 3 day stay in Paradise (other than the violent welcome I received) was that I accidentally dipped my camera in the ocean. Oops. It has stopped functioning, and whilst I may still be able to fix it, I am relieved that this happened near the end of my journey and not near the middle. At least my memory card is safe and had lots of pictures taken during the one really good day of weather on Senidup.

That jeep ride home was pretty rough going as we climbed up and over the central mountain range of Panama before arriving back to the Pacific coast and the city. I ran into Gabi back at the hostel and we happily scampered out to grab dinner at Cafe Havana before she got a night bus to Bocas del Toro which was her next destination of choice. We happily chatted over mojitos, ceviche, and Cuban sandwiches…and Gabi tried to convince me to grab my bags and come back with her to Bocas. I must admit that I was very tempted indeed, especially since I had to head back to Costa Rica in any case. However, since I’d already given money to someone to buy me my bus ticket to San Jose and I hadn’t really seen Panama city yet, I reluctantly declined.

In hindsight, I kind of wish I had just gone with her, but then again, it might not have had the same magical appeal as the first visit did, and it would forever alter my perception of it. and the time I had there.

I had two more days in Panama city and I explored. The first day I walked, for miles, around Casco Viejo and took in all the major sights and monuments to a Panama city of yesterday, that is experiencing much investment into renovation and restructuring. In fact, you could generally hear drilling from 7 in the morning from my hostel which made early starts much easier. Right before the afternoon rainy season storm, I grabbed a cab to the bus station (my friend wasn’t able to buy my bus ticket without my passport! So I could have gone to Bocas and not felt bad about that!) and bought my ticket for Tuesday night to San Jose (arriving at 3:30pm the next day) then went to catch a movie and some needed air conditioning. It was hot, hot I tell you!

That night I went to visit Katherine’s restaurant, Indigo, and dined like a princess. The food was amazing, I enjoyed a passion fruit infused ceviche of Sole, followed by fresh baked goat cheese and spinach spanikopita, and topped off with the softest fudge chocolate cake ever and coconut ice cream. And a bottle of wine. Fantastic. At Katherine’s request, I stayed and sang songs too until about 2 in the morning, and developed my Panamanian fan base. They all plotted to keep me there and enter me for Panamanian idol. It was a wonderful night to remember!

My final day I went north for a hike around the Parque Natural Metropolitano and promptly left after 15 minutes and about 1000 mosquito bites! ouch! A cab picked me up and scolded me for walking around the area alone, telling me that it was very dangerous. I agreed, but primarily because of the mosquitoes. I asked to be taken to Ave Balboa, to a spot where I could enjoy a stroll along the water. Of course, I was told. Yeah, my ass. Ave Balboa was completely closed due to construction, and I ended up walking through it to a neighborhood where I could hail another cab, all the while enduring constant whistles and cat calls from the construction workers I passed. I have never in all my travels, met men who felt they had more of a right to vocalize their intentions towards women as I found in Panama city. Nearly every passing car, some guy yelled out to me, sometimes sweet things, other times more vulgar. That’s not counting all of the “Chica“”, “”Amore!”, “Corazon!”” shouts I counted. At times I thought maybe I should be flattered, but the thing is this: the cat calls are not discriminating…they are directed to most all women. Its just an everyday normal thing.

Finally I visited the causeway which joins 4 islands together and has great views of the city, the canal, and the rest of the ocean on the other side. I rented a bike and went for a casual ride, stopping for a delicious lunch of garlic shrimp. After some last minute shopping, I returned to Luna’s, showered, re-packed, ate some sushi and grabbed a cab with my fellow traveller, Sarah, for the international terminal.

That bus ride was a nightmare. They had the air con blasting so much it must have dropped below 50 degrees Fahrenheit. I was wearing every layer I had and burying my face into my sweater to stop my nose icing over. Couldn’t sleep it was so cold. Then we were awoken by the loudest music imaginable at 5am to tell us we were at the border with Costa Rica. The border crossing took 3 and a 1/2 hours because they strip searched our bus for drugs. I’ve never stood around just waiting in the heat for so long, when I was so tired before. What made things worse was my last minute realization that my flight home from San Jose could have been changed to return from Panama City!!! I simply hadn’t considered this as a possibility until the last day, and then I was faced with having to come back to San Jose because I had left 1/2 of my luggage here!! That’s travelling brain for you…where has mine gone I ask you?

I managed to sleep for the next few hours despite the LOUD and horrifically violent movies they seem to always play on buses. We arrived in San Jose and jumped on another bus for Alajuela (the town closest to the airport) and checked into the hotel where I had stashed my things two weeks ago…. After pizza, we came here, I wrote this letter….and now its time to end….go back and pack…..and face the fact that my odyssey has come to a close.

My flight is at 8am tomorrow so I’ll be leaving around 6am. I plan to write an epilogue of sorts on my return and provide some overall observations of my time spent here.

I look forward to seeing many of you in the coming days and weeks!!!

Panama Adventure I

28 Thursday May 2009

Posted by in Panama

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I have changed my flight yet again…for the last time, I think! I fly home on June 4th and am very very sad that my journey is coming to an end. It has been an incredible trip that interestingly has improved as the weeks went by…I feel like I am finally in the groove of travelling, and alas, it is time to return to reality and look for work. Sob.
I last left you on my return from the top of the world after my climb up Huayna Potosi. I spent the next two days in La Paz as I was unable to change my flight to leave earlier to go back to Central America. As it turned out, I really needed the rest. The first day I just slept, got a massage, did email and then spent the afternoon going out with the boys to see the Sunday afternoon locals´entertainment of Cholita´s wrestling. What is a Cholita? It is an indigenous Bolivian woman living in the city who continues to wear traditional dress. It was supposed to be riotous fun.
It was not. I don´t know what had happened on the day that other travellers went, who had recommended this activity to me, but I´m not sure if I could describe it as fun. Public display of female abuse would be a more appropriate description. Whilst the fighting is only supposed to look ¨real¨, the message that it sent to the crowd was extremely disturbing.
We watched as guys fought, as the opening act, and then the first set of Cholitas appeared (one was a dwarf, or is it midget? Can´t remember which is politically correct) and we basically watched them get repeatedly punched, slapped, kicked and beaten to a pulp. At one point, the midget was hit so violently in the skull that fake blood poured down her face. Just as she was cowering and crying in the corner of the ring, the aggressor took one of her pigtails and lit it on fire. It was very disturbing and a bunch of people left. We just kind of sat and stared.
Afterwards, I felt quite tormented. The boys and I took off for a slap up meal which we found at the first restaurant I had visited upon my arrival in La Paz two weeks ago After, to dull the visions of beaten cholitas, we all went to the movies to see Angels and Demons which was a lot of fun. Then we said our goodbyes as the boys were leaving in the morning for Sucre. Ah….alone again! Sniff.
My final day in La Paz took me around the city actually as a tourist for the first time. I visited the Coca museum to learn the history of the leaf that is so negatively viewed back home (source of cocaine production), the Witches Market, strolled down the Prado and visited the Sopacochi neighborhood.
The next day was an epic journey day. I took a cab at 6am to the airport and flew from La Paz to Lima where I had a 2 hour layover before my flight to San Jose. On arrival in San Jose, I took a cab to an airport hotel where I unloaded half of my stuff in storage as I wouldn´t be needing all the winter clothes whilst travelling in the tropics. Back in a cab, we navigated a torrential thunderstorm to get me to the Caribe Terminal where I boarded a 4 hour bus bound for Puerto Viejo de Talamanca, a southerly Caribbean beach town near the border of Panama.
I was absolutely exhausted upon arrival and opted for my own hotel room where I could just take a shower and get some needed rest. I was hounded by some locals as I walked the five blocks to the hotel, and learning how many people were mugged over the next day in Puerto Viejo, I realise now how stupid I was to walk there alone in the dark.
It was very strange to feel the humidity in the air again…and to be able to breathe!! I was back at sea level, and very excited to experience some BEACH.
The following morning I set about deciding if I was going to stay in Puerto Viejo for the day, or if I´d catch the bus straight to Bocas del Toro in Panama. I set out for some breakfast to mull the decision over coffee and met up with 3 lads from Montana who promptly invited me to stay at their hostel and hang out with them for the day. We decided to rent some bikes and ride down to Manzanilla stopping at beaches and snorkeling along the way. Sounded like a great idea, and they even offered to carry my bags for me! Never gonna be concerned with travelling alone ever again!
The day was perfect. The ride was leisurely and the scenery lush. We spotted monkeys as we cruised along, stopping a couple times to swim and frolic in the surf. At Manzanilla we enjoyed one of the best lunches I’ve had on the trip: Garlic shrimp and coconut rice. Delicious.
Getting back to our hostel, I headed over to the beach to watch the sunset and met 3 people who would become friends over the next several days in Bocas Del Toro: Aurelien, Matt, and Kelly. We all decided to head over to a bar after dinner that was playing live music (I was hoping to be able to sing, which I did! Remey, one of the three guys I’d met at breakfast was quite the musician and played guitar while I sang “Me and Bobby McGee” made famous by Janis Joplin). It was a good evening followed by dancing at a club downtown which we arrived at in style after hopping on to the tailgate of a passing truck. Ah, good times.
In the morning, a group of us jumped in a minivan headed for the border and the backpacker haven (or should I say pit of sin) of Bocas Del Toro, situated on the beautiful Isla Colon in the blue Caribbean azure. The town didn’t look like much as we sweatily clambered off of the water taxi that had brought us here, but it would soon grow on me in its affection. I knew where I wanted to stay and began to haul my bags north up the main drag, losing the guys in the process to a haggler trying to sell them a dorm at his hostel. Weak, I tell you!
I was very happy with my digs, named Mondo Taitu, which became as much a character in my stay as the islands themselves. Mondo Taitu has a funky appeal with bright colors, hammocks littered across balconies, and a free pancake breakfast. Each night hosts happy hour with prices that make your head spin: beer for 50c and cocktails for a buck. We never missed a happy hour.
Matt and Kelly were already there and I added Christina, Abraham, and Carina to the list of friends whom I made during my stay. We became quite a connected happy little bunch. After a shower and a happy hour, I decided to lay down for five minutes in my dorm before heading out.
I woke up the next morning at 8am.
Wanting to head out and see more of the islands, I joined a sailing trip aboard a catamaran which took a leisurely day out to such points as Dolphin Bay and coral key, stopping along the way at choice snorkeling spots. I’d been told that the visibility was particularly bad here, but I was pleasantly surprised by the color of the coral which we found in the shallower areas. It poured out of the sky in the early afternoon and we all had to take shelter inside the boat and wait for it to pass. All in all, by 4pm I was completely mellowed out and operating on island time, blissfully ignorant of the time on my watch except for when it would signify happy hour, of course.
Stopping by the supermarket on my way back to the hostel, I was stunned to find they had fresh milk for sale. Not being able to resist, I bought the half a gallon bottle together with a slice of fudge cake and sat in the sun gloriously gulping down the white stuff that I hadn’t imbibed in nearly 3 months. It was spectacular.
Walking into the hostel I was greeted by a familiar face from Puerto Viejo: Aurelien (from Paris) had decided to travel south and spend a few days at Mondo Taitu as well. The whole “crew” from Rocking J’s was here. It was going to be a good stay.
That night we all got a taste of Bocas‘ night life, where every single night, women drink for free. It is shamefully hedonistic and blatant in its marketing, but it seems to work, because the entire town seems to visit only one specific different bar each night of the week, which makes for a fun, if slightly high school atmosphere. I happily danced the night away until sleep beckoned. Even then, Aurelien and I ended up hanging out on the balcony outside my room for the next several hours anyway…
The next day, having woken too late for a boat trip, Matt organized us into a beach targeted group and we grabbed a collectivo to the north of the island and a stretch of beach called Bocas Del Drago. It was picture perfect with little surf, swaying palm trees, white sand, and lots and lots of starfish. It was the perfect beach day with swimming, a delicious lunch of red snapper sitting in swim gear, snorkeling, exploring, and taking lots of pictures. This was paradise. Little did I know it could get even better.
The following morning Aurelien was distraught as his ATM card didn’t seem to be functioning. I offered to buy breakfast, and during the meal it occurred to me that when the same thing happened to me in Copacabana, Bolivia, I went to a hotel and they kindly ran my card through their merchant machines in order to give me cash back. After trying the story out at several retailers we found a dive shop who was willing to give him cash. Relieved at being able to “do” things again, we immediately booked a boat charter out to the one island I desperately wanted to visit before leaving this place:Isla Zapatillo. It is supposed to be the most beautiful and unspoilt of the islands, completely uninhabited and circumnavigable on foot in about 30 minutes.
Despite being horrendously delayed by this very strange Persian man who insisted on making 7 of us wait an hour for him while he ate lunch at a stop along the way, it was an incredible day. I felt like I was in a movie and luxuriously breathed in the incredible scenery and utterly crystal clear water that lapped at our toes. It was so so beautiful, and I think honestly to say it was the best beach I’ve ever seen in my life. We ate a picnic under a palm tree and then happily lazed away the next five hours or so we had before being forced (literally) to get back in the boat and head back to Isla Colon.
I knew I needed to leave this place the next morning in the same way I know I need to leave Las Vegas after 3 days. This kind of self indulgence was starting to get to me. So after another memorable night spent at a club that was designed around a sunken ship and artificial reef, complete with sand, I packed up my bags, and Abraham (lovely sweet Dutch guy from Utrecht who had been travelling with Christina for the past month and who was headed back to Columbia) and I headed down to the docks for our water taxi and subsequent buses on to the mountain, and coffee town of Boquette.
After five hours of buses, Abraham and I felt the shift in climate and donned another layer. It was a welcome relief to experience a little chill, and watch the daily afternoon downpour come down over the cloud forest, and this little town which is apparently rated as the third best place to retire in the world! Walking over to our hostel in the rain, I couldn’t help feeling disappointed at the unearthly quiet that abounded. I was de–bocasing. It was going to take a day or so. I was already missing my friends. The parties. The happy hour. The beaches. Mondo Taitu! But no, it was time to move on and travel.
After setting down our bags in our hostel of second choice (the first was full! Damn!) we headed out for a good meal to lift our spirits. And we found it in a little American owned restaurant called Bistro Boquette. As soon as we arrived, a server came over and poured us both ice water. It was so beautiful it almost brought tears to my eyes.
We happily dined on rather expensive (for travelling that is) fillet Mignon with garlic mashed potatoes, red wine, and a brownie with ice cream for dessert. It was fantastic. After booking a trip to go white water rafting the next day, we settled in for the night at our hostel by watching a movie with our fellow roomies (some of whom had also arrived from Mondo Taitu).
I’ll leave it there for now as its getting rather long…I am in Panama City now and will be leaving for the San Blas Archipegalo in a few days for my last dose of sunshine before heading Stateside.
Much love to you all!