Monday, October 26, 2015

Drifter's Escape

I will try and reflect on the past 9 days as we sit here next to the pool on our hotel rooftop, with sweeping views of the big city. The visit from Stanley has reenergized us for the stretch run back home that begins tomorrow. Let me get you caught up.

It was fun to be able to guide someone around the city that we have gotten to know fairly well. The Panama Canal was impressive to see and check off the list. We got there around 10:15, after waiting an hour for the local bus from the Albrook Terminal. Luckily we saw 3 large boats in various stages of passing through the locks, something that is not guaranteed. We then waited another hour for the bus back to Albrook, from where we walked to Parque Natural Metropolitano, a dense forest just north of town. We wanted to give Stanley a taste of the jungle during his short stay but this turned out to be only a partial success. No sloths or monkeys were seen but it was a good break from the city and the 45 cent empañadas from the guy on the street were a satisfying lunch.
                                                         Balcony, cards, drinks
                                                 Large boat exiting the canal
                                  View from hill in Parque Natural Metropolitano

On Tuesday, we headed toward our next goal of getting Stanley some local culture. A pair of cramped buses got us to the old Caribbean port town of Portobelo. It is here, on October 21st every year, they host the Cristo Negro festival (or Black Christ). It turned out to be a pretty big deal. We saw the beginnings of this when we arrived, and later witnessed it come to a climax on Wednesday night. But before we enjoyed the festivities, we took a boat out to Playa Huerta for a couple hours to partake in some great snorkeling and swimming. We even spotted a pair of octopi (or octopuses, I am not sure which is correct). The rain did not diminish the joy of playing in the Caribbean. 
                                                         Octopus
                                                        Playing at Playa Huerta

That night, we filled a plastic bottle with improvised sangria and navigated the crowds. Rumor was the President was in town but all we saw were a couple black SUVs with tinted windows and no license plates. We ate the ever-present street food and watched those making their pilgrimage crawl the last section to the foot of the statue inside the church. Around 8pm, the large platform containing the Cristo Negro is lifted up and slowing paraded around the tiny town. In the front of the procession are pilgrims, still crawling and exhausted. Red Cross workers hover around those who are on the verge of needing medical attention. Homemade shrines are carried just behind the pilgrims, by those wanting to be a part of the action. Then a rope is carried by police to surround the statue and for some reasonthey really struggled despite no one attempting to penetrate the line. Behind the main attraction are people walking and playing horns and drums. We found a decent spot to watch one full pass and then found our way back out of the crowd. 
             Pilgrim crawling, surrounded by family
                                               Waiting for the procession 
                                            The statue all lit up, being carried

We eventually made our way back to our hostal, Captian Jacks. From there we gazed at a fireworks display and tried to call it a night. Staying in our first dorm room of the whole trip, sleep was not easy. Especially in this setup in what could be some of the worst dorms I have seen, 22 beds in four separated rooms and 2 bathrooms. All stuck in a small basement with little airflow. The first event that awoke everyone in our room was a local drunk man stumbling down the stairs from the rooftop bar, who somehow leaned against a jalousie window and broke half the panes of glass onto the Swiss girl sleeping in the bottom bunk. Lights were turned on and the owner apologized before moving the girl to a new bed. Things settled down for a few minutes before the loud thunderous booms from the grand finale fireworks shook us. A couple of times I considered getting down from my top bunk to see the show, but just tried to incorporate the noise into my dreams, but that doesn't work. We eventually slept and have vowed to be more picky about our accommodations. (We booked online since the festival was going on).

We slept-in on Thursday since our travel would be short. A bus and a boat took us to Isla Grande, where we would accomplish the goal of showing Stanley a Panamanian Carribean island. A rather small island, approximately 1.5kms x 5.5kms. The main pathway that goes along the waterfront is very quiet during the week and we knew every face by the 2nd day. Finding a place to stay was a little odd. A man named "Banana" walked us down to a place where a Venezuelan woman spoke English, but that fact didn't make things any easier. She didn't have all of the keys, so showed us a great room we couldn't have and told us a price of $30. We were surprised and Julia seemingly confirmed the price was for all of us. We waited at a picnic table for the keys and made plans for cooking on the in-room stove. When we eventually saw the room, it was as good as advertised, but upon a 3rd confirmation of the pice, the lady now said it was $30 per person per night. Way more than we were willing to pay, so we began walking back toward the village center. Very soon we saw a sign for rooms and despite the expensive looks, checked it out. The room was more than adequate, especially with A/C. The bargaining began as we had 3 nights to help negotiate. The originally quoted price was $55 per night for the first 2 nights, then $65 for Saturday. Aided by some misunderstanding and 3 of us trying to say numbers slowly, the owner lady agreed to $30 - $30 - $40, a total of $100 for 3 nights for all of us. We don't really know how it happened, and I don't think the lady really knows either, but it did and we had our cheap lodgings. 
                              Looking for a place to stay on Isla Grande

The quietness of a weekday also meant that food options were limited. We ate at the same small restaurant for both lunch and dinner that first day but enjoyed both meals and got a good helping of seafood. The day was spent swimming, snorkeling, airconditioning ourselves, and doing laundry. 

Friday began with breakfast at our hotel, followed by asking about 10 locals where the path across the island started. The last man we posed the question to was very specific, telling us to go left just after the 2 old women drinking beer, one of whom was wearing a red shirt. We found the women and found the path lined with yellow rocks. For those who may want to visit Isla Grande someday; It begins just west of the basketball court, across from the pagoda, just make sure you veer left at the cottage and not right towards the garbage pile. 

The trail was overgrown but partly paved and led us up and over the ridge that runs down the middle of this land. Soon we arrived at the Bananas Resort, which is currently closed, and strolled around the property not seeing a soul. The beach was decent and the snorkeling was poor, but the area was quiet and relaxing. The afternoon flew by and we were glad to find a new restaurant open for dinner that night offering the basics. The rest of the night, like all of them, was spent playing cards and talking. 
                                   The empty resort and beach we played on

On Saturday, the island got busy as city folk flocked in for their quick weekend beach fix. We explored more, walking up to the lighthouse on the eastern edge. The rusty tower had a spiral staircase leading to the top and it swayed in the wind, worrying us a little. The views were spectacular. 
                       Looking west, across the island, from the lighthouse 

That afternoon was spent on the popular beach at the western point. I began creating something with the sand and a young boy decided to sit with me and help. We built toward a common goal and succeeded, until the waves destroyed all we had accomplished. The little guy followed the 3 of us into the water and asked me to throw him through the air. I have had lots of practice doing this with Kaiden and felt confident I wouldn't injure him, so complied with his request. After a while I tried to stop, but he kept saying "dos mas" despite me saying "el ultimo vez". The 3 of us then took turns throwing the kid around, although after 1 throw from Stanley, the kid would not let us give him back to Stanley. Eventually el niño got tired, said adios, and we made our way back to our hotel, snacking on empañadas and arepas bought from a lady on the path. With more options for food that night, we found a cheap place next door and feasted. 
                                                Me and my design partner

Sunday we said goodbye to Isla Grande, but made sure to grab some more street arepas for breakfast before hopping onto a boat. One minibus to Colon was followed by a big bus to Panama City, and we were back to a place we know well. Stanley kindly offered to subsidize a nice hotel in the city after seeing how little money he had spent so far. Thus we ended up in Hotel Costa Inn, a midrange option in the center of town with a great rooftop pool and an above average breakfast buffet. The room is large with a hot shower, refrigerator, and big screen tv that shows American football. We found a nice full set-meal for lunch, took advantage of all the hotel amenities, and really enjoyed some hamburgers and a hot dog from a very busy small stand for sustenance that evening. 

Monday (today) began with the breakfast buffet before venturing out to Panama Viejo (the old town that is now ruins) using the public bus system. We found the visitors center but oddly had to hop a small gate to get to the path the leads along the waterfront and past the numerous sites. There are a few signs that describe things and they have done some good work restoring and protecting what remains of the old buildings. We climbed the stairs to the top of the tower (which apparently is free despite what our guidebook says) and bought some souvenirs from the market nearby. Another odd thing is that we didn't see any other tourists the whole time, just many many workers. Not sure why, it just felt a little weird, almost like they were closed. 
                                                              Some ruins
                     Tower in Panama Viejo

The bus back to the town center was interesting. Extremely crowded, we have found the locals aren't very good about shifting toward the back, they prefer to stand in their aisle spot and force you to squeeze through to get to the opening. This results in near chaos at each stop as not everyone can get onboard. Some come in the side door that is meant for exiting, dodging the 25 cent fare, knowing there is not much the driver can do. With this public knowledge, a man and the driver got into an argument as he was making his way back through the crowd. They were both very upset and our only guess was that the man had just slid through the turnstile without paying, justifiying his action with the fact that many people do the same, just not via the front door. The yelling ceased and the bus continued on, luckily our stop was next and we happily disembarked. 

We wasted the rest of Stanley's last day by the pool. When the sun had set, we hopped the metro subway down to some casinos to entertain ourselves with $2 blackjack. Chinese food was then consumed for dinner, paid for with Stanley's winnings. A large styrofoam container is now filled with leftover rice and chop suey, earmarked for lunch tomorrow. One last game of Hearts was played back at the hotel and one last pitcher of impromptu sangria was consumed. 
                         View from the pool

Tuesday morning (tomorrow), Stanley will board a shuttle to the airport for his flight back home, and we will begin our journey back to Nicaragua by boarding a bus that will take us 8 hrs northwest to the familiar town of David. It has been a great break having a friend on the road with us, keeping travel things fresh that had gotten stale. On that note, we recently learned that my Father will be meeting us in Southern Nicaragua for a few days of traveling before joining us at GranPacifica Resort, where we will golf and eat turkey. These next few weeks will fly by. 

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Backdrifts

Entry by guest blogger Stanley:


Micah has always been an adventurous soul, seemingly unencumbered by the burden of any expectation that he lead life that is "successful" by the socially popular definition of money, property, and stability. I've always admired that about him, and it's one of the reasons that he's my oldest friend. We also have, for most of our adult lives, shared a desire to see the world.  Once, (it now seems like a lifetime ago) I said something to Micah (while he was in Thailand, I think) along the lines of, "I wish I could do what you're doing." Micah, in his half-joking and half-serious way, told me, "You're still a young man, Stanley." I realized he was right, and, a short while later, I bought a one way ticket to the developing world and began my own adventure. I stopped after a year, but Micah never really has, and now that he's found a kindred spirit in Julia, I wonder if he ever will. 


It's now almost six years after Micah convinced me, with a few words, to quit my job and light out for the territories, and my life has since gathered some of the trappings of stability.  Still, I feel compelled to wander from time to time, so I decided to drop in on my friends in Panama, to see what their world looks like, and to try to reconnect with the wonders of carefully-packed backpacks, chicken buses, street food, cold showers, and all the other joys of budget travel. Armed with Vicodin and scotch, I settled into my seat at the back of the plane, content that I would wake up someplace different, and that my friends would be there.  


found that I am out of practice at this.  I told Immigration that I didn't know where I was staying, and I was meeting friends.  She told me angrily that I'd better call them and find out and that I could not pass until I had an address, which frustrated me until I remembered that I didn't have to be honest and told her I was staying at The Hilton.  


I found my friends and they guided me on a long bus ride then a short walk to our clean, comfortable, budget lodging. The developing world looks the same as it did in my memory.  The streets are a little dirty and there are sometimes smells that cannot be described as pleasant. The locals wear t-shirts emblazoned with slightly comical phrases.  There is extreme wealth sitting alongside abject poverty. Panama is a comparatively prosperous nation by Central American standards, which only underscores this fact, with skyscrapers, luxury cars, and Trump's gleaming hotel just a stone's throw from shacks made of cinder-block, and crowds of men and women hustling to sell trinkets to tourists.  But I still love the aroma of meat cooking over open grills on the street, and I still love the teaming hustle of life in a tropical metropolis.  A man sold us a reasonably priced mojito and we watched the Seahawks lose. We found bargain meat, rice, and lentils, then retreated to our room for drinking and cards on our hostel balcony.  


Micah knows where everything is. He never seems to take a wrong turn or look at a map.  Julia and I follow him without question.  Micah and Julia know in a deep, intuitive way that walking and waiting are a nomad's most valuable tools and they are obviously masters, and I follow their lead without complaint, but my tools are rusty from lack of use.  They know the value of a dollar and know how to stretch one man's two-month budget to five.  At home I take an Uber whenever it's convenient and now I worry I have gone soft.  We walked, waited, found the Panama Canal, took the requisite photos, and waited some more.  We walked, sweated, showered, once again found budget food, and once again ended the evening with drinks and cards. 


Yesterday we made our way to the city of Portobelo which is now deep in the throes of the festival of Christo Negro.  The locals deify a statue of Jesus that supposedly washed ashore in the 16th century.  They walk 23 miles in a pilgrimage for the festival, and many of them crawl the final mile in a state of borderline-disturbing religious ecstasy. I don't quite know what to make of this festival.  I worry that we're gawking at a freak show.  And then I worry that I'm judging devout, sincere believers by my own urban American standards. The streets are filled with music and with hundreds of vendors selling souvenirs geared towards the locals.  Periodically the sky opens up and the rain falls heavily and we all run for cover.  Supposedly the festival reaches its climax tonight, when the statue is carried into the street and there is a procession of some sort.  We'll watch and try to understand.  

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Regulate

It continued to pour rain throughout the day Wednesday. Eventually, after eating our free pancake breakfast, we threw on our rain jackets and headed towards the Multicentro Mall. Taking advantage of what the city has to offer, we had done our research and were going to see Misión Rescate, known in America as The Martian. Forty five minutes of darting across busy streets, getting sprayed as cars whizzed by through puddles, we had arrived. The mall was huge, the price of kiosk coffee was outrageous, and the smell of perfume wafting from stores was nauseating. We double checked the movie time, ensured that Wednesday was el dia de descuento ($3 movie discount day) and quickly found lunch at a Chinese restaurant in the food court before buying our tickets. This was our first encounter with how tricky movie theaters are down south: the $3 discount was only for movies in 2D, and there were only one or two movies that qualified, wouldn't be shown for another 4 hours. Scanning the other options, we admitted defeat as we couldn't justify paying $7 each for a movie. On our way out of the mall, we stopped in a department store and each found a reasonably priced swimsuit, as we're both desperately in need of swimsuits that aren't unraveling at the seams and falling off our bodies. 

Upon returning from the San Blas islands, we searched our pockets and laid out all the cash we had to call ours. It wasn't much, but we were hopeful it could get us through until Sunday, when our friend "Stanley" would be bringing us a few $20 bills so we could avoid high ATM fees the remainder of the trip. To pinch every penny, we knew we needed to find another hostel. As Micah mentioned before, Hostel Mamallena was a bit too backpackery for us and we were getting a bit tired of all the smokers sitting just outside our room, along with costing us $33/night. On our walk back from the mall on Wednesday, we checked out a few different hostels/hotels, hoping to also land in a new neighborhood we had yet to explore. Our winner ended up being just three blocks away, Resedencial El Rocio, saving us $8/night compared to current lodgings and offering a private bathroom with hot water, a TV and AC. We did some math when we returned to Hostel Mamallena and discovered if we stayed at RER for two nights before moving into our triple room we had reserved back at Hospedaje Casco Viejo on Saturday night, that allotted us $18/day for food and entertainment. This was less than we previously thought we'd have, but we had encountered a few unexpected expenses in the past few days: $10 for the doctor consult, $30 in medicine, and $25 for the swimsuits, which we had hoped to use a card for but didn't have our ID with us so had to pay in cash. $18/day for food, not including Sunday (but we'd have a free breakfast at Hospedaje Casco Viejo and Stanley arrives at 2:30pm), AND we were hoping to return to the movies for the $4 matinee special? Challenge accepted. 

We feasted on leftover pasta and baguette Wednesday evening before calling it a night. Thursday we ate as many pancakes as our bellies would allow, then packed up and walked to our new dwellings. Micah fidgeted with the TV remote for the better part of an hour and our blurry picture suddenly became clear with more channels than we knew what to do with. The infected bug bite meant I was most comfortable with my leg slightly elevated, so we enjoyed the R&R for a few hours. (By the way, the meds did wonders and we caught this one in time: it never exploded like the last and is slowly fading away. I have 3 days of antibiotics left and am no longer needing pain pills so I believe we're in the clear! Yay!) Mid-afternoon we left with a few goals in mind; lunch, which we found for $6.75 at a sort of permanent cart pod: phone call to the US for Micah to inquire about a financial issue ($3.20 for 16 minutes): and a long stroll along the beautiful waterfront. All went well, with the exception of paying the lunch bill. I thought the lady said $7.75 instead of $6.75 so when she handed me back the change, I thought her math was wrong so I was honest and handed her back $1. Micah quickly asked what the price of lunch was and when she said 6, I sheepishly smiled and took the $1 back. I'm sure she thought I was tipping her, and had we not been counting every penny spent than we likely would have walked away and counted our loss. But we needed that dollar and I felt like a jerk.

                               View of the downtown skyline from a walkway
                        4km long walkway along the waterfront, called the Cinta Costera
                                Many stray cats living along the waters edge

That evening, we set out in search of a cheap dinner. Word on the street was there were a handful of food carts open late in the day a few blocks from us, so we headed that way. We spotted one and decided it would have to do. The senora listed our options and when she said arepa, Micah did a little "ah, arepa" with excitement in his voice. I'd never had one so he explained the meat and cheese stuffed cornmeal pita that he had indulged in when traveling in South America. We ordered one arepa and two empañadas and for $5.50, enjoyed our feast under the street lights.

              Arepa stuffed with 3 types of meat

Friday, we again packed our rain coats and headed towards the Cinemark theater located in the mall. We stopped at a cafeteria that we had visited earlier in the week, and I enjoyed a full plate of "leg" with rice and salad and Micah ate soup. This happened the first time we were at this cafeteria also, when I asked the lady behind the counter what a bin full of meat was, she simply said pierna, or leg. Not chicken, or pork, or dog.... just leg. Whatever it was, it was good. I'm also pretty sure it was pork. We waited out a downpour under the protected roof of the cafeteria and when it finally let up, continued our walk.

                                                          Cafeteria display
                    Rainy walk to the mall

Once in the mall again, standing at the counter to order tickets for Misión Rescate at 12:45, the young man let us down by informing us that although the reader board told us it was playing, there was a different movie being shown in its place. Not letting it get the best of us this time, we used the kiosk on the side to look at every movie showing before 2pm (matinee price) and not dubbed in Spanish, we settled on The Walk at 1:20 and purchased our tickets. Luckily we brought the debit card and ID just in case, as the movie cost $15 total since it was in 3D. We both enjoyed the movie, especially the comfortable rocking chairs. We also had a serious discussion after it was over as to whether we'd take the 2 nearly full bags of popcorn that the only other couple in the theater left. In the end, we didn't take them.

We had ideas for time occupying things to do and see for the afternoon, but decided we'd continue to save the touristy things on our list for when Stanley is here with us. We made it back to our hotel and had some more down time before dinner hour rolled around. There was a lovely local restaurant on the corner that we'd seen throughout our trip this year but hadn't yet tried, so we hit up this little spot called McDonalds for dinner.

Saturday morning we followed the same routine that had occupied the past few days in the city: think about where we could find two big, cheap meals for the day and walk somewhere and/or see something. Early lunch for us was at another cafeteria, as we've really found these are the way to go in Panama. The food is displayed in metal bins, there's a large variety of options, and depending on the time of day the food can be very visually appealing. A full plate of food usually costs $3.75. This was no exception- for $5.25, I had a plate of spaghetti and an empañada, and Micah had rice, beef stew, spaghetti and lentils. We can also drink the water here, which saves us a couple dollars per day in drink purchases. Our walk somewhere/see something task was to switch back to Hospedaje Casco Viejo, the first place we stayed in Panama City and thus far, the only place we've found has triple rooms. We walked, rode the subway, and checked into our room with a large balcony that we share with the dorm room. Later in the day, we were tourists at the Plaza de Francia, the southern tip of Casco Viejo that juts out into the bay. We watched some feeble surf attempts in the bay, glanced at the merchants with their jewelry and bags on display, and strolled by the large stone tablets depicting the French's role in building the canal. Dinner was purchased from a lady with a grill, selling chicken and yuca for a lofty price of $5 for the amount of food we ended up with. We ate on our balcony, enjoying the stained glass of the church across the street, the confusion of cars on the poorly marked one-way street, and Eminem blaring from the occasional teenagers car as they rolled by.

                                               Old city wall in Plaza de Francia
                                More from the plaza looking toward the setting sun
                                        Kuna crafts called Molas, on display
                                      Our new room with some outdoor space

Now it is Sunday morning and we're getting ready to depart for the airport. We have our transit card that was purchased a week ago with enough money to get us to the airport and back, and an additional $9.60 in lunch money and emergency funds. Stanley is schedule to land in two hours, and we again feel lucky to have the chance to see friends from home while traveling and look forward to exploring more of the city with him.






Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Wish You Were Here

We enjoyed our little slice of Caribbean paradise and are now back in the big city to file this trip report:


The alarm went off at 4:30AM on Saturday morning, we ate our free pancakes, and then were packed into an SUV for the 3 hr trip out to the San Blas islands. We made the customary stop at the grocery store on the way out of town and counted over 15 other 4x4 vehicles around the parking lot, their passengers loading up on water and snacks. We knew we wouldn't be alone out there but didn't factor in the Panama City residents getting away for the weekend. With over 400 islands, it turned out to not be an issue, with the only downside being the wait at the checkpoint into Comarca de Kuna Yala.

The Kuna people have held strong to their traditions and are the only group in Latin America to have indigenous autonomy. The women wear colorful clothing and leggings that stretch from ankle to knee and some even have distinct markings down their face. The men wear board shorts and cutoff t-shirts. Most of the inhabitants have had to learn Spanish as their 2nd language, which isn't that similiar to their native tongue. They don't let the Panamanian government patrol their waters so smugglers have free reign. Up until 20 years ago, the Kuna used coconuts as their primary form of currency, trading them for food and clothing with boats from Colombia. Most islands are uninhabited and filled with palm trees, a good years harvest reaches 30 million. It is an interesting place to visit. 

We arrived in the port town of Carti around 9AM, and after a brief wait, were ushered onto a boat that would take us out to Ina's Cabañas. Once we broke into the open water, we could see tiny islands in every direction. Our trip took us west along the coastline for about 40 minutes, until we parked on the island of Naranjo Chico. We saw other white people playing in the clear waters and lying on the white sand beach. For $50 per night, our lodgings were bamboo huts in the sand with beds and included 3 meals. The island was actually more inhabited than we thought, with 50 locals living life, most of them we assume are related to our host. It was a good mix of being isolated and still getting the chance to see the culture. 


                      Our cabin on the beach, during a wind storm on the first day.
                                                    The inside of our cabin

We shared this patch of sand with 2 American girls who just recently graduated from Cal Berkely, an Israeli couple, an Austrian/Colombian couple, and 2 girls & 1 guy from The Netherlands. They were all easy to get along with and helped explain things like lunch being ready when you hear them blow the conch and that we can get free coconuts expertly shelled for us (I never really knew how good fresh coconut is to eat and how similar it is to an almond). That afternoon, 7 of us took a day trip out to Isla Perro, or "Dog Island". A beautiful small island surrounded by sand that has a few cabins for tourists with more money. Just off shore is a sunken ship that provides some great snorkeling sights. We saw loads of colorful coral and a few fish but had to fight the current that flows between 2 islands and shoots you out to deeper waters. One trip around the boat and we were worn out. 


                                                                Isla Perro

                                                         The sunken ship
         Colorful stuff on the sunken ship

Back at our cabins, we spent the rest of the day laying in the hammock, reading, and venturing out to snorkel the reef just steps away from our home. While exploring on my own, I spotted a jelly fish and quickly swam back to grab Julia. She didn't believe me when I said I saw one in Cuba and this time I would give her proof. We carefully swam toward the spot and found the cool looking blob floating just under the surface of the water. Keeping a safe distance, I snapped pictures. Since they don't really move, I am not that afraid of them, but when we started seeing tiny ones about the size of a peach and extremely tough to spot, I began to be very conscious of my movements. Their bodies were a little more oblong than the traditional jelly fish, so I wasn't positive that they stung. I wasn't going to risk it though since Julia has been touched by a Portuguese Man-o-War a couple times in her life and didn't seem to like it very much. The rest of our snorkeling time during our stay would be cautious but still amazing. 


                   Keeping a safe distance 

That night, some young locals living next door built our group a bonfire and setup chairs and a table for us. They were either just being nice or wanted to drink free rum and hit on some gringas. One man in his 20's spoke good English and explained to us their belief system. He said that he is from the sky, his grandfather is the sun, his grandmother is the sea, his uncle is the moon, his mother is nature, and his father doesn't exist. He doesn't know why, but nothing correlates with the father. 

Everyone was very kind to us the whole time and we could tell how much they appreciate the prosperity that tourism has given them. We never worried about not having a lock on our cabin. 

We actually slept fairly good that first night and woke up with the sun shortly after 6AM on Sunday. The conch sounded for breakfast at 7 and we ate fried dough with fried eggs. That morning, 8 of our neighbors traveled back to the big city and we awaited the boats return to see who the next crew would be. Around 10AM, the owner came up to us and said that no more people were showing up. It would be just us and a Dutch guy with strange eating habits for the next 22 hours (he ate less than half of his food every meal). No need to fight for time in the 4 hammocks and with the quiet, we got lots of reading done that day. We both finished our books (my 5th and Julia's 25th) and snorkeled more despite the patches of seagrass that had drifted on to our beach. The other notable moment from that day was the delicious piece of fish we had for lunch. We assumed that we were getting the good stuff since there were only 3 mouths to feed. The white fish had a perfect crispy crust and was extremely moist on the inside. Probably the best fish we had eaten all trip, though the meal in Caye Caulker, Belize at Fran's shack is the other contender.  


                                                   A great tasting piece of fish

                 Reading in the hammock 

                                                              Snorkeling

           Some of the sights on the reef

The Dutch guy left on Tuesday morning and we briefly wondered/hoped if we would get the place to ourselves. This time the owner walked up to us and said that all of the rooms would be full, with 2 boats coming. He exaggerated a little but many people did come. Thirteen new neighbors to be exact. We cringed a little at the news and made sure to snag hammocks. They were all good folks; a couple from New Zealand, 3 British girls, 1 British guy, 1 Brazilian girl, and a group of 6 friends from Spain. Only 1 speedo wearing guy in the bunch.

That afternoon, the whole lot of us went on the free tour provided by the owner, out to Starfish island. As the name implies, there are huge starfish all along the waters surrounding this uninhabited island. We threw our masks on and drifted around admiring the creatures and the little bit of coral nearby. This whole area really is spectacular. 


                                                          Comparison photo

              Hundreds of little fish swimming by 

               You can spot them from above

The rest of the day was the usual snorkeling and then wandering around the island. About half of the island is all palm trees and it makes for a pleasant stroll. That night we had an octopus/crab tomato stew with noodles and salad. 


                                           One last snorkeling picture
                                        The uninhabited portion of our island

Tuesday morning we woke up and packed. We decided to depart about a day earlier than planned, partly because of the now fairly crowded cabins and also because Julia got bit by something on her left leg. The bite soon began to look infected, similar to the last one in July, and we decided to be a little more proactive this time. An easy boat ride back to the mainland was followed by a painful ride back to Panama City. Cramming 8 people into a standard SUV is not the best idea for a long curvy ride. I had to sit in the way back and was massaging my legs the whole time to try and get circulation going. Just before we couldn't really take anymore, we got dropped off at Hostel Mamallena. We checked back in, retrieved our stashed luggage, dropped off laundry, and finally got the sand off of our feet. 


                         Last morning, figured we needed a shot of us on our beach.
After cleaning up, we walked down to a clinic just a block away. It was $10 for the appointment and the female doctor was very helpful despite speaking only a little English. She prescribed some muy fuerte (very strong) antibiotic pills and cream that we could purchase from the pharmacy next door. After about $30 worth of meds that she will take for the next 7 days, we hope that this will be the end of it. Fortunately we will be around the capital for the next 2 weeks and have easy access to the best healthcare in Central America. 

For dinner we cooked some Chicken Nugget Alfredo pasta and caugh up on what has happened on the Internet the past couple days. Sleep was good that night. 

Now it is Wednesday morning and it is pouring down rain outside. We ate our banana pancakes and have some tentative plans for the rest of the day. Our lodgings are okay but maybe a bit too backpackery for us. We are thinking about trying another neighborhood and looking for a cheap local hotel to experience. With our friend Stanley arriving on Sunday, we have a few days to really get to know the city or just be lazy. 

Friday, October 9, 2015

We Built This City

Seats are reserved in a 4 x 4 tomorrow to take us to Carti, where we will then transfer to a boat for a short distance until we reach the San Blas islands, specifically the tiny island of Naranjo Chico. For four or five nights, we will sleep in a hut with white sandy floors, soak up rays while napping in hammocks, eat fresh fish, and have no internet. For this reason, the boss man assigned me the job of updating you today, only a few days after our last blog.

There's not much drama to share over the past two days, but we are now in Panama City and have been surprised by a few of it's features: 1} It smells. This really shouldn't surprise us, since it's a huge city swarming with people, but the occasional aroma of fish and cadavers is unpleasant. 2} As opposed to every single other place in Central America that has stray dogs loitering the streets, Panama City has cats. Cats on picnic tables, cats in hostels, and there was even a cat in the church we walked in yesterday. 3} Cars actually stop to allow pedestrians to cross the street. This is a first since traveling.

                                                               Cat nap

How we got here: Wednesday, stood on the side of the road in El Valle for 10 minutes before a mini bus pulled up with Panama written on the front. Just over two hours later, we drove over the canal which wasn't too impressive, but to be fair, it's not so much the canal we saw as just where the canal water meets the Pacific. Our bus terminated at a large shopping plaza, equipped with KFC and Pizza Hut. We purchased a $2 card that is required to use the metro and flagged down a taxi to take us to the rocky Península of Casco Viejo.

During construction of the canal, the neighborhood of Casco Viejo was the entirety of Panama City.  Shortly after completion, the wealthy moved out and the neighborhood was deserted. It has since been renovated and is making a strong comeback. Described as half crumbling and half high-end, it's cobblestone streets pass by boutique hotels followed by ruins. We found lodging at Hospedaje Casco Viejo, small rooms with minimal character. For $28/night, we continue to find accommodations in Panama are higher than expected.

                                                  Península of Casco Viejo

Although Casco Viejo is much more charming than the more urban neighborhoods, we discovered there aren't many cheap food options near-by. At a local kitchen a short distance away, we were served large plates full of food for a very fair price of $4 total. This makes us happy and helps offset the costly hostel prices. We experienced the same struggles while looking for dinner later that evening. We strolled past fancy restaurants, even asked prices at a food cart stand ($5 for a hamburger and $3 for a hot dog, which doesn't seem like a good value) and then hit jackpot with $0.60 empañadas. Four were eaten while sitting in a plaza, fancy restaurant tables ten feet away, and two cats praying we'd drop a scrap. As we ate and admired the beautiful building in front of us, Micah stated he wasn't sure he could live in a town that doesn't have convenience stores and cheap food on street corners.

                                                 Empañadas by street light

Thursday morning began with toast and bananas, featured as Hospedaje Casco Viejo's complimentary breakfast. After breakfast, we set out towards Luna's Castle, a popular backpackers hostel a few blocks away, that had advertised trips to San Blas. Luckily, we did our research and realized they charged $8/person more for transportation, and possibly more for accommodations than others. Our walk continued across Panama City, with a quick jaunt through the Mercado de Mariscos (fish market), a disappointing stop in the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo, and eventually to Hostel Mamallena. Far from the Casco Viejo neighborhood, located in the working class center of neighborhood Caledonia, this was another hostel we found that organizes trips to San Blas. Content that our long walk in the heat paid off, we booked the trip for Saturday, booked a room for Friday night to make the 5:30am departure time more tolerable, and began our return walk.

         Dissapointing because what you see here is 1/4 of entire museum ($5 entry fee)

                                      Street art (his finger is pointing at a Latino man)

Lunch was fresh ceviche from the fish market as we strolled back through. Per usual, lunch led to a discussion of what we would do for dinner. Unsure how stocked our kitchen was and what restaurant options were left, we picked up some typical food for take out before returning to our hostal. Hours later, the take out food was a good choice that we feasted on for dinner, after relaxing for the afternoon and plugging more numbers into our app and making some sweet pie charts.

         Combination ceviche on left, fish on right

This morning, Friday, after our free bread and bananas, we checked out and began our walk from Casco Viejo to Caledonia. Fifteen minutes later we were standing in front of a large map of the subway system, our small map in hand, confused while dripping in sweat and heavy bags. Took less than two minutes before a lady our age asked where we were going and kindly informed us we were in the bus transit center, not the metro. We walked one block further and then hopped on the clean, well marked subway for a short ride two stops away. I personally love riding subways and could have probably spent the afternoon there; I'm not sure if it's the people watching or that it reminds me of the first time I rode an underground train in Boston, but there's something magical about it.

                    Skyline of Panama City seen as walking away from Casco Viejo

A couple wrong turns later and we were in our new room. We left quickly after to find a cheap lunch spot, dodging in and out of department stores that line the streets, and into a grocery store to pick up items to supplement us the next few days. Rumor has it that on the islands, the meals are small (3 meals/day are included with the lodging) and the few items available for purchase are expensive.

Our belongings are now separated in to two piles; the smaller one containing almost exclusively swimsuits, sunscreen and books will go with us tomorrow, the other will stay. The morning will come quickly, and I've heard the drive to Carti can take anywhere from 2-7 hours, depending on a number of circumstances. The boat ride can be pretty rough, and most likely we'll get drenched. We've heard everything from stellar reviews to disappointing experiences of our reserved lodging. At this point, I think we're as curious as we are excited about the next few days of complete solitude on a barren island. Should be quite the adventure.




Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Paranoid Android

We are again taking advantage of our open schedule and spending extra time in a town that appeals to us. The initial plan of 3 or 4 nights turned into 6 due to a comfortable climate, a relaxed hostel, and a stockpile of food. Not a lot has happened since our last entry but I hope you find the little details interesting. 

On Thursday, we rolled with our new friend Joe on a bus from Santa Fé into Santiago, and then for a short while on a bus heading towards Panama City. We watched and felt bad as he had to cram his legs into the seat when things got crowded, one of the few times in my life when I am thankful I am not 6'6". He continued on into the big city as we said goodbye and hopped off at the junction called Las Uvas. There at the bus stop, an old man assumed we were Dutch and tried to talk to us which confused us greatly. Then we crammed into a van with 25 other people that took us to the town of El Valle. 

Rain was falling as we got dropped off in the Centro, luckily there were 3 hotels close by to choose from and we picked the cheapest. The bed was very firm and small, one of the many reasons why we searched for future accommodations while walking to find dinner. We found a hostel that looked like a warehouse painted yellow and the bald American guy with a southern accent showed us around. Still expensive at $33 per night, the pool, kitchen, free eggs & bread for breakfast, cheap laundry service, and gameroom complete with ping-pong table sold us on the place. We have come to terms with the high price of lodgings in Panama and save money by cooking and finding cheap food, like the $3.50 dinner plates we ate that Thursday night. 
                                 View of Cerro Cara Iguana from our 1st hotel

We awoke on Friday morning at our hotel that resembled an old mental hospital, loosely packed up our belongings, and walked the short distance to our new place called Windmill Hostel. After settling in, we found a cafeteria style eatery for lunch and walked the few kilometers to a waterfall known as Chorro de las Mozas. A small falls that runs powerfully through a channel carved into volcanic rock, it was okay but not great, not really worth the $2 entry fee. The coolest part about the area is that the whole valley of El Valle de Antón was formed when a large volcano erupted millions of years ago. The resulting crater filled with water forming a lake, eventually the water broke through at the spot where the falls now is and flooded the lands below. The valley is now flat and lush and surrounded by jungle lined volcano walls.

On the way back to town, we stocked up on groceries and bought some veggies from the market. Julia made spaghetti with carne molida (ground beef) and garlic bread for dinner. Later, we played foosball and ping-pong while a 1.5yr old blond Dutch kid stared at us and helped turn some of the knobs. 

After a failed attempt to hike up a hill in Santa Fé, I had big plans for Saturday. Just west of the town center is the prominent peak known as Cerro Cara Iguana (see photo above). I researched the routes online and convinced Julia that it would be a memorable experience. I did not lie. We ate our fried eggs and toast for breakfast and began walking at about 10am. The roads to the trailhead weren't as clear as the map showed and we spent close to 40 minutes walking around town confused. Luckily the area was beautiful and lined with million dollar homes. Large plots of lands, gated entryways, and well manicured lawns with streams and gardens, the homes were cottage like and housed the wealthy Panamanians that look for refuge from the big city 2 hrs away. The scenery kept Julia distracted until I finally found the right path and we started walking uphill. 
                                                              Our map

The trail started out clear enough. We came upon a dirt road at the top of the ridge and followed it for a short distance. The trail was supposed to spur off, continuing along the ridge but we were unable to find a well marked path. We ducked a gate and took a side dirt road that led to terraced off plots that were for sale. The groomed land quickly ended but we could see a point not much farther up where we figured a path could be found. We crawled through a hole in the barbed wire fence and made our way up through the long grass and weeds. At the top our destination was visible but the faint path was tight and overgrown. Hoping it would clear up, we followed the ridge, scraping our legs on bushes before we noticed a clearer path just across the next valley. Down we went into the jungle where it got dark and cool before we broke through, out onto a well worn trail and felt like the rest would be smooth. 
                    Beginning of the trail
              View from the 1st hilltop of Pacific Ocean, me following the ridge on the right 

The good feelings didn't last long. Our smooth road veered off in the wrong direction and after some contemplation, we decided to stay on the ridge line and once again follow a faint overgrown trail. I usually love ridge hikes, but this one was a little too rough. The views over the city below and the Pacific Ocean to the south were amazing, but the constant grass and shrubs brushing against the legs make walking a little slow and painful. Long pants would have been a good idea. 
                       The ridge line behind us and what the trail looked like 

The route continued like this for another hour before we made it to the more traveled section and almost 4 hours after we began our hiking, we were on top of Cerro Cara Iguana. We looked down on El Valle below and could see the full amazing crater and tried to imagine what it looked like before it blew its top. The walk down was much easier as we used the more popular route which took us along the other side and mostly on a very rough dirt road. Back at the hostel, we joyfully jumped into the pool and enjoyed some rare afternoon sunshine. 
                                          View from the top of El Valle
                                        Us at the top of Cerro Cara Iguana 

That Saturday night, we ate leftover spaghetti and the hostel filled with locals (mostly young couples) coming in for the weekend. A parade with a band marched down the main road and we heard fireworks, celebrating some festival. With a packed hostel where sounds travels easily, sleep was tougher that night as a we either heard a man snoring or a puma fighting a jaguar. Plus we were awoken at 3am as a lady knocked on the hostel entrance and we could hear the American landlord shout "For the love of God!" and then explain to her that check-in isn't until 11am. He was not very happy.

Speaking of our landlord, he has an interesting personality. Originally from Memphis, he has lived here for a while but speaks less Spanish than we do. When we hear him show locals around, half of his words are English and in an unapologetic way. Just assuming they understand. There are other full-time residents who live in attached apartments, mostly Americans who might be running from things. One drunk man, who is buddies with the landlord, berated a local for drinking Budweiser, then told us he was going to steal a golf cart. He makes frequents stops at the ice machine to keep his rum and cokes cold. 

On the first day we met a man with gray curly hair who lived most of his life in Hawaii and causally talked to us about his belief in conspiracy theories. He is one of those 9/11 Truthers who liked to talk about the width of planes compared to the damage left in the Pentagon and told us to watch a video online. He seemed harmless enough and shared his opinions in a calm way. We were polite and found a way to escape his company. 

The Hawaiin man seemed sane compared to the other gray straight haired man we met that was originally from St. Louis but had lived here for 5yrs. Early in the conversation, he told us he was a writer who had lived in 12 countries and spoke 6 languages poorly, things that came out as arrogant when they were shared. We discussed traveling and he warned us about going to Honduras, we told him it was very safe. When the discussion turned to our trip to Cuba and the hopeful open relations with the US, he randomly stated that if he had a terminal illness he would assassinate President Obama. Again, if anyone in the government is reading this, this was said by a gray haired man from St. Louis who lives in an apartment in the Windmill Hostel in El Valle, Panama (I can get you the room number if you want). We do not endorse this man's opinion. We sat there stunned for a moment, not really believing what we had just heard. He said he is blunt because he finds most people want that. The conversation basically ended after that and he realized that he had interrupted what we were doing when he walked up and apologized. We were glad when he walked away. 

I wished I would have asked that man what the POTUS had personally done to hurt him but figure he is just a man with problems. For some unknown reason, most of the old single US expats we have met in the last 2 months have had major issues. It scares me a little and makes me wonder if loneliness in a foreign country has made them that way or if they screwed up things back home and are running. Before I met Julia, I had sometimes envisioned moving overseas and living an exiting expat life. Appearing to be sophisticated and smart, being idolized by backpackers that crossed my path. Now maybe I wonder if I would have become a weird drunken man who complains about things and frightens young couples. Not saying it's guaranteed that none of this will happen now, but at least I won't be lonely. 

Back to our travels: Sunday we did poached eggs on toast and walked out to a Golden Frog conservation center in the valley. Unfortunately it is located inside the zoo and you have to pay $5 a person to get in, so we cut our loses and walked the 1.5kms back to the town center. Next stop was the market which was in full bloom. They have a plant section, a veggie section, and a craft/souvenirs section. We explored but only bought fruit, then spent the afternoon reading back at the hostel while a storm rolled in. As the rain was coming down the hardest, we jumped in the pool. I finished my 4th book of the trip before making an eggplant pineapple curry for dinner. We finally used up the bag of rice I have been carrying around for 3 weeks. 

Monday morning we ate French toast and watched as the hostel cleared out. By midday we realized we had the place to ourselves. We asked the landlord if that meant that all food items left in the fridge were up for grabs and he said yes. Upon hearing this, we felt a happiness that most people would find quite strange. The locals had come in over the weekend and left many good items behind. Potential meals raced through our heads so perfectly that it seemed these items were left here by some divine force. A box of pancake mix, frozen hashbrowns, tortillas, salsa, cheese, butter, BBQ sauce, a can of Balboa beer, 2 bottles of half drank wine, orange juice, pineapple juice, and chocolate ice cream. 

That afternoon we walked 5kms out to a waterfall known as El Macho. We reluctantly paid $5 per person to enter and were disappointed by a subpar view of the 85 meter falls. Fortunately they have a freshwater pool that has been dugout and lined with a rock wall for swimming. We had it to ourselves and enjoyed the quiet respite.
                View of El Macho waterfall
                  Jumping in the natural pool, took us about 5 takes to get this shot

On the walk back to town we grabbed a tamale and some chorizo from a food tuck to tide us over until dinner. More reading and relaxing by the pool until the afternoon clouds came in and forced us indoors. Leftover curry was reheated and Julia turned the pancake mix into crepes to accompany our exotic meal. We played more ping-pong and billiards, it felt odd that no one else was around. 
                                    The game room / equipment storage 

Tuesday morning (today) we took full advantage of our food bounty and made breakfast burritos with tortillas, cheese, rice & beans, eggs, hashbrowns, and salsa. I added BBQ sauce to mine and highly recommend it. Julia is more of a traditionalist. We had tentative plans to visit a nearby hot springs, but after reading bad reviews, we decided to skip it. Instead, we spent the whole day getting some things done online and plugging our travel costs into the Numbers app on my iPad. I just recently downloaded it and since both of us love numbers, it seemed like a logical thing for us to do together. 
                                       Eating breakfast burritos by the pool

We finally got new roommates this afternoon, a couple from the Netherlands who have a rental car and are traveling for 3.5 weeks around Panama. It was good to share travel stories and get some social time in with people who aren't crazy. Dinner tonight was once more manipulated leftover curry and pancake crepes followed by chocolate peanut butter ice cream. 
                                  
Tomorrow (Wednesday) we will finally leave after 6 nights in El Valle and venture into Panama City. Our time here has been good and the fridge has been cleared out. Our clothes have been washed twice and we feel ready to take on our first capital city since Havana, Cuba. We normally shy away from the larger towns since most have had little to offer, but this one is supposed to be good and of course is close to the famous canal. We will let you do some research and get back to you.