Rudderless in Panama

Adios, Cahuita - leaving the bus station at 8am, heading for Sixaola, to change buses

     

Adios, Costa Rica!  The very low-key exit sign on the border with Panama

      

The equally low key little general store/pharmacy where you buy your departure tax

      

The bridge between Costa Rica and Panama

                                   

Anna leaving Costa Rica, entering Panama

                                    

We're here!  'Welcome to Panama' reads the hand-painted sign

We'd read and heard from other travellers that, as with entry to Costa Rica, you need an onward ticket out of the country.  We toyed with printing out a fake ticket, but decided to cross our fingers.  The very bored guy at immigration didn't want to see our yellow fever certificate, just grunted and took a security photo (we nearly had hysterics as Alan had to bend his knees to be in line with the lens and the guy didn't tell him when it was done, which, added to the dread that we would be asked to produce evidence of an onward journey, engendered an overwhelming desire to laugh).  But we got through with no problem, phew!

Bocas del Toro

All the travellers leaving Costa Rica were heading to Bocas del Toro, an archipelago in the northwest Caribbean coast of Panama, and, despite our previous experience, we squeezed into a shuttle bus with mainly surfer dudes, as this time it really was the easiest and quickest option.  From there onto the ferry (similar to the lanchas on Lake Atitlan in Guatemala) to the main island, where we had booked a room for 5 nights in 'Panama's Paradise' hostel, though our friends had since emailed us, advising us, nay commanding us, to cancel our reservation and stay on the smaller island of Bastimentos, in the tent lodge where they met and fell in love while volunteering.  So, when, on arrival at Panama's Paradise, in the very gritty area of Saigoncito, they realised that they'd double booked our room, we tried to leave straight away - there was still time to book the tent lodge.  But, the manager was lovely, gave us free beer and sodas and manouevred her bookings so that we could stay in our reserved 'deluxe suite with private bathroom and kitchen'!  We negotiated 2 instead of 5 nights, happy to move on, as it certainly was not deluxe and the view of the neighbour's yard, stacked with empty bottles, old washing machines and sundry other rubbish was not picturesque and definitely not paradise!

       

Our 'deluxe suite' - it looks great, with its shabby chic painted furniture and colourful bedding, but alas, the kitchen, and bathroom in particular were far more shabby than chic, with a 'suicide shower', very common in central and South America and thus named as they have electric wires emerging from  the shower-head and can pack a nasty shock, as water and electricity do not mix!  (OK, hydro-electricity is pretty cool, but we're talking about a potentially lethal Heath Robinson shower here.)  This was a real shame, as the staff were lovely and could not have been more helpful and we had free bikes with the cost of the room.  The bikes had just been replaced, so were brand new, so next day off we cycled to Paki Point, a headland with a nice little beach and a surf cafe.  It rained on and off all day, but we managed to dodge the deluges.  The bikes had no brakes, we just needed to pedal backwards to stop them, which caused much hilarity as we nearly went over the handlebars or fell off the saddle a few times.

                                   

                                   

Colourful painted walls in the cafe

      

View from the surf spot cafe - the yellow pickup is a taxi

      

View from the road, cycling back to town

       

Juice truck in the Main Street of Bocas Town

       

Prime real estate from agents Paradise Found...... Hmm

                                     

But the hibiscuses are beautiful

Bocas Town is very lively; the Main Street is lined with bars, hostels, restaurants and clubs and is jumping at night, which is the main reason for its popularity with travellers.  As directed by our lovely friends we ate Pad Thai in Maracuya restaurant....pretty good.  Many of the shops are Chinese-owned and run and we managed to buy in Hermanos Yung (Yung Brothers), which sold everything, a cheap charger for our trusty iPad, having left the original in Cahuita.  Result!  

   

Leaving the main island, Isla Colon, for Bastimentos   

Eager for somewhere more paradisical, we managed to book 3 nights in the tent lodge and travelled by lancha to Red Frog Beach, named after the eponymous little amphibian inhabitants.  This is more like it, we thought, arriving at the jetty, paying our $5 each entrance fee to the reserve and trekking through the jungle in the rain to the lodge.  

    

Who knew there was a short cut to Paradise?  

     

Our tent, much nicer and bigger than it appears in this photo!

Nestled among the trees, the tents have real beds, wooden floorboards, a lockable wooden chest in which to store valuables, a lamp, some ornaments and real flowers and good quality bedding and towels.  Nice.  We were glad, though, not to have been home when a branch fell from above onto the tent!

       

Eponymous red frog

Turns out that a tree outside our tent was red frog central!  They are tiny, very cute and, despite their name, come in a range of colours: black, blue and yellow, in addition to red.

       

      

The sun came out and stayed out the next day: gorgeous Red Frog Beach 

The sea here is renowned for treacherous currents and, although most visitors swim and/or surf, you need to be very wary of the rip waves and follow the advice writ large on signs everywhere. Several people have drowned swimming or surfing off Red Frog Beach.  Warning signs sponsored by grieving, bereaved parents of young travellers and the permanent red flags are a reminder of this.  We did swim, as the water was so warm and inviting, but were extremely respectful of the current and stayed at around knee-depth.

Strolling along Red Frog Beach:

                                    

       

Exposed roots of a fallen palm tree (about time we had an arty pic, eh?)

      

                                     

Sea urchins (2 arty pics in one post - woo-hoo!)

     

Hermit crab, big purple claw ready to nip any assailant      

Although Red Frog Beach was undeniably beautiful, we didn't really 'feel it' here.  There's a huge development of characterless villas along the coast from Red Frog.  There was a feeling that all that matters is the tourists' dollar and even in our eco-lodge the 'welcome' talk was cold and geared towards persuading us to spend as much money as possible: on tours, surfing lessons, zip lining etc.  As the tent lodge is far from anywhere else within easy travelling distance, the prices for food and drinks are quite high.  Sadly, there have been muggings of tourists on what most claim to be the best beach on Bastimentos, Wizard Beach, the most recent only 2 weeks ago, at gunpoint, and they were with a guide.  We travelled to Bastimentos Town one day.  Sipping coffee in a little cafe above Bastimentos Town we were amazed when a couple we'd met at Cloudbridge ambled in!  Small world.
We travelled there and back by lancha, which was expensive, then when we re-entered Red Frog Beach we were charged entrance fees again, despite wearing our wristbands to prove that we were staying at the lodge and therefore exempt.   Our round trip cost us a budget-busting $30.  We could have hiked to reduce the cost, but that would have involved walking via Wizard Beach, which we were keen to avoid.  

Red Frog Beach, to us, had the feel of a previously idyllic, understated paradise, about to become an exclusive, luxury, gated resort.  Great shame.  It will be interesting to compare notes with our friends about how it has changed since they were there over a year ago.

Where to next?

No internet connection at the lodge on Red Frog Beach, so researching our next destination and finding accommodation was a little difficult.  We were feeling a bit rudderless, all at sea, not knowing where to head for next.  As anticipated, Cloudbridge and Costa Rica were proving difficult to get out of our system.  At Cloudbridge we had a routine and a meaningful goal and, although we have never been ones for rigid structure, preferring to carpe diem, whatever it may bring, we missed this.  In short, we'd lost our collective mojo.  

So, we find ourselves in the small town of Boquete.  A coffee growing mountain town, known throughout Panama for its cool, fresh climate. Flowers, coffee, vegetables and citrus fruits flourish there and it has a large ex-pat community.  Named in a US national magazine as the place to retire to, North Americans flocked there in their droves and set up home.  There is also a sizeable indigenous population, working mostly on the coffee farms, living in overcrowded, very basic conditions.  On a hike to a waterfall, we passed many indigenous people; the women and girls wear long, shapeless smocks, with rik-rak or zigzag trim, the men wear trousers and t-shirts.  They were all friendly and curious, the kids calling 'hola' but seeming to speak very little Spanish.  We asked (in Spanish) one little boy his name -'Valentin' he said, grinning from ear to ear, his arm around his little brother, followed by something very rapid, which didn't sound like Spanish, which we wished we could have answered.

        

Mi jardin es su jardin (my garden is your garden) a big garden of a house owned by a local family, open to the public

Buying strawberries and yogurt at a roadside stall, delicious

                                    

Interesting rock formation on a hike to a waterfall

                                                 

The little waterfall

         

Indigenous coffee workers, living in cramped, basic conditions

        

The local market, bar in the background (frequented by men only) a stark contrast to the pristine town

 

Street art

Although we spent a relaxing few days in Boquete, in an Airbnb outside the town, owned by a nice young couple into healing, with links to Colombian healing arts and culture, we still felt directionless, unfulfilled, and guilty that we are feeling this way despite being so privileged.  Where is that bloody mojo?

Panama City

Take the overnight bus, we thought.  Save a night's accommodation costs, fall asleep in David (the transport hub an hour from Boquete), then awake, refreshed, in Panama City, on Alan's birthday.  But, the bus was absolutely arctic and we did not sleep a wink!  The bus was comfortable, super-reclining seats, no crap music or films blaring out, but it was positively subzero!  Why do they insist on cranking the air-con up to the max on so many long-distance buses in South and Central America?!  Thus, we arrived in Panama City at 4am like zombies and headed straight for our hostel.  The taxi driver buzzed persistently at the door, though our check-in was not until 2pm.  Luckily, the lovely staff let us into our room early to catch up on sleep in a big, comfy bed with crisp white cotton sheets.  Zzzzzz.

Alan's birthday in Panama City

A day strolling around the city; we'd been warned not to take cameras and to be super-careful with any belongings, so we don't have any photos of the very charming old town, unfortunately.  We didn't feel unsafe anywhere, but the we found the people in Panama generally less friendly and open than anywhere else we'd been (except the lovely staff in the hostel, Entre dos Aguas).  The old town is being regenerated and, therefore, gentrified, with restored colonial houses and plenty of mostly expensive bars, restaurants and cafes.  We had been warned to avoid some dodgy (poor) areas (we'd been given a map in the hostel with a big 'NO' scrawled across the no-go areas') which we discovered, cheek by jowl with the posh bit, as with so many cities.  By the sea side is a huge fish market, with local bars and seafood canteens and restaurants.  We saw the huge ships lined up to enter the Panama Canal, though we didn't feel the urge to visit it.  Panama is a big, polluted, busy city, with huge skyscrapers.  Some people have likened it to Dubai.  We were very happy, though, to find a Loving Hut, a vegan restaurant chain, which has a branch in Brighton!  The food was cheap and delicious, with a Chinese theme and very friendly staff, a good birthday lunch for Alan, though the location didn't measure up to mine in gorgeous Manuel Antonio.  We'll celebrate when we arrive somewhere more Alanish.

                                     

                                     

      

 Panama City (from the bus to the airport)

So, after a brief stay in Panama, which we sadly did not warm to at all, off we went to the airport, to fly to our next destination, one we've wanted to visit for years and years and are so excited to be travelling there at last..... Colombia!!!!  

Recipe from Panama: Johnny Cakes.  We had these with breakfast and some dinners at the tent lodge.  We first heard about these little toasted bread affairs from my lovely neighbour of some years ago, George, who was from Belize.  A corruption of 'journey cakes' he told me, as they were very portable, so practical to take when travelling, the recipe varies across the Caribbean.  These are the Panamanian version, Bocas del Toro style:

Ingredients:

3 cups flour

1 tsp salt

1tsp baking powder

1 tsp dry yeast

1tsp sugar (or more to taste)

Half cup butter

125g vegetable suet/shortening

Half can coconut milk

Method

Step one, in a large bowl, mix the flour, salt, baking powder, yeast and sugar.  Next add the butter, vegetable shortening and coconut cream and work it through the flour using your fingers as if you were making a pastry crust.   Now, while working the mixture with your hands or a wooden spoon, gradually add the coconut milk until a bread dough like consistency is reached.  Knead the dough for about 10 minutes and then set it aside in a warm place to rise for about 30 minutes.  Next divide the dough balls just a little smaller than a tennis ball, poke them with a fork and leave them to rest a further 15 minutes or so.

Arrange them on a greased baking tray and bake them in a regular oven at 300 degrees Fahrenheit until they are golden.

Next post: 'Hello mojo - welcome back' - Colombia!