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
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
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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