Asia  2000

 (Thailand & Bali)

It's December, it's cold, it's time to seek heat. So, this time for something different, we've opted to check out the Banana Republic of Panama.  Images that most often come to mind are of a pineapple faced Noriega, the drug running, and of course the greatest shortcut in the world – the Panama Canal . We're keen to discover what else the country has to offer.

Twenty seven hours & four flights later, we arrive in Panama City . We will spend the night here before an early flight tomorrow morning to Contadora Island , one of several small islands in the Pearl Islands archipelago. 

This morning, at Panama ’s domestic airport, we are puzzled by the security guy who confiscates Christine's eyelash curlers.  Clearly a recent graduate from the University of Stupid .  What IS he thinking?  A silly image pops into my head, of some mutton headed dolt brandishing the curlers on a plane yelling … "Take me to Columbia – or I curl your eyelashes"!   

The Aeroperlas plane is just a little puddle jumper, and sitting next to the open cockpit, we notice a whirling fan mere inches above the pilots heads.  One aggressive hiccup, and they’ll be wearing a new metal headpiece. 

After a short flight the plane thumps down on the little island, stopping about a hundred yards from the sea. We learn this is one of the last flights that will be using this short and broken runway, as it's about to be closed for 3-6 months for major repairs. It's so rough that plane tires are only inflated to half pressure to stop them from blowing on the landings. 

Contadora can best described as rustic. Transport here is mainly by foot or golf cart. However, it turns out that an old pickup truck was barged over to the island to haul supplies. We hop into the back along with our bags and are off  to our B & B.  The wee islands in this archipelago are where several of TV's  SURVIVOR shows have been filmed, and it turns out that the room we are staying in (Frigata Magnifico)  is the same room where the shows host Jeff Probst stayed during filming.  Kinda neat, considering we are fans of the show.

In the 16^th century Spanish Conquistadors came here in search of  the coveted pearls. During this period legend says Contadora Island , or " Counting Island " became the central point where pearls from around the region were sent to be counted, registered, and prepared for transit over the isthmus and finally shipped to Spain .  In any case, the island is lovely.  Blue sky, emerald sea, white sand, & a canary sun with optimum scorch.  All is bliss.

Today we decide to try fishing, and hire the local expert Pedro, to see if he can work his magic.  After a couple of hours we have a nice boat ride, but still no fish.  Fortunately we brought along mask and fins, and opt to try some snorkeling.  Pedro stops the boat off Isla Chapera, and we hit the sea. The marine life here is simply amazing. Never have I seen so many species of colorful and entertaining finny fellows.  The name Panama translates to 'place of abundant fish' –now I know why!

I could spend days snorkeling here, but  the meter’s running, we decide to boat back to Contadora.  Pedro however, wants us to fish back – so with a great dose of skepticism we agree. Sure enough, ten minutes later my rod is thrashing about with some angry finster on the other end. 

The long battle begins. I reel the line in, and the fish strips it out.  As this drags on, I'm thinking that I really need to start pumping some iron to build up my arms! Finally I get it close enough to the boat for the gaff to be sunk, and victory is mine. The catch turns out to be a prized mackerel.  A brilliant collage where spontaneity, gaiety, and contentment all merge to create the perfect moment.  Ahhhhhh .. life as it should be!  High fives all around and we head for home to make plans for our fish dinner.

The place where we are staying is shared by a couple from Germany who we learn, love to cook.  Perfecto –  I hand over the fish to Hans & Renate so they can do their thing, while Christine and I head off on a quest to purchase some vino. Along the way, we nab a couple of lemons off a tree, and pick some flowers to accompany what would turn out to be one very delish fish dish.

Today, pumped by my last 'swim with the fishes', I decide to have another go. This time it's out to a reef off Playa Larga on Contadora Island itself. The sea is a little choppy, but it's still doable.  Christine sits on shore while I plunge in. Again, there is an awesome abundance of marine life, and I'm having a wonderful time. As I snorkel around a corner, I notice a commotion from a cloud of purple and yellow fish darting about. 

Then, suddenly as  the fish part, to my shock I see an enormous and very ferocious looking moray eel. It's obviously been eating a meal, and the small fish are seeking any floating tidbits that may left over.  Suddenly, the monstrous eel starts to swim up towards me – which get's both my adrenalin and flippers just a pumping!   OK, OK,  I thinks that's about enough marine life for today!   "When you snorkel the reef ..…. and an eel gives you grief….that's a moray" 

Strolls about the island yield a couple of unusual sightings.  First we notice a strange rodent called an Agouti Paca.  Kinda like an earless rabbit - on steroids. It noses about the woods, but when spotted, it flees in sheer panic. Quite humorous to watch this strange bulbous critter trying to set a land speed record!

Secondly, we notice on the beach a type of little fish that seems comfortable either in the water, or out. It jumps up on the rocks, but when approached, back into the water to hide.  And yes folks, this is seen BEFORE our happy hour – just  in case you are wondering! J

                                                                                                         Isla Contadora has four resident policemen who apparently they don't have enough to keep them busy. Today we find them all at our place. Have we done something wrong?  Nah .. turns out they've been hired to resurface the sundecks. Strange to see them later, all decked out in their police uniforms and packing weapons.

We are feeling quite mellow and relaxed, but alas, today it's time to goodbye the staff, as our four Contadora days have disappeared like cookies at a pot party, and it's time to move on. 

Panama City is certainly not a place for the timid. There appears to be almost as many police as there is fish in the sea.  They are all packing, and many wear bullet proof vests sporting either machine guns or what appears to be some kind of shotguns. We are warned about several bad-assed barrios like El Chorillo that must be avoided as they could be most detrimental to our health!

The city itself is dirty, and choked with traffic including the teeming Diablos rojos (red devil buses). These ancient 12-ton chariots are everywhere. Spewing diesel fumes they chug along, with their brightly airbrushed snouts and butts adorned with an assortment of unlikely images including Christ, cartoon characters, Al Pachino, Osama Bin Laden, Clint Eastwood, etc.. These colorful monsters are about as subtle as a bagpiper at a yoga retreat – but sure fun to look at. Not much else here seems to have any appeal.

To escape the city we opt for a wander along the Amador Causeway, which is located at the southern entrance of the Panama Canal . This 3 ½ mile breakwater was built from some 18 million yards of solid rock excavated during part of the canal construction, and actually connects three small islands with the mainland. Makes for a nice walk, being lined with palm trees, and a picturesque backdrop of the city's skyline just across the water. 

We also visit the old city of Casco Viejo , which has been around since Jesus was in Pampers. It has now been declared a World Heritage Site and the architecture is a combination of ruins from the days of Spanish Explorers and Pirates, and French. Buildings sitting side by side can be over three hundred years apart in age.

La-di-da-ing our way around the narrow brick streets, we notice several old churches and a lot of reconstruction going on. Splashes of floral vibrance cascade over balconies with sculpted wrought iron crafted in another century. Another great place for a stroll!

Next on our itinerary is a flight north to the town of  David .  We rent a car and drive up into the mountainous Chiquiri Highlands to reach our destination of  Boquete. We accidentally run over a large iguana, but arrive safely. Approaching town we're stunned by the devastating flood damage less than two weeks ago.

Boquete is a flower filled mountain valley at the foot of the 10,500 ft. extinct volcano Volcan Baru. The spring-like weather seems pleasant and cool. The countryside is a vast tropical tapestry of coffee covered hillsides and lush primeval cloud forests.  We find this a is a most pleasant change from our stay in Panama city .

We are staying at a lovely B&B called the Boquete Garden Inn for the next 4 nights. It has a very nice ambiance, and we're entertained daily at breakfast as chattering birds flash brilliant iridescent colors as they dart about their daily chores. Only problem is that we are getting multiple little bites from some unknown perpetrators and they itch like hell.

Unfortunately several of the hiking routes we have come for are now inaccessible due to certain roads and trails being washed away, so we have to make alternate plans.  Over a few glasses of wine, we learn of a little used mountain path used by some of the local indigenous Indians. Sounds good to us.

Today is Christmas. After a hearty breakfast we are off on our hike. We pass cattle grazing high atop the steep green mountain sides. Quite the bovine workout, and an udderly unusual sight.  Iridescent blue morpho butterflies dazzle us with their aerial dancing.

At one point we encounter a family of indigenous Ngobe-Bugle Indians with lots of kids, chickens, and puppies, so we stop for a brief visit. Of course we monolinguals can't communicate, but we take a few photos and show them to the pint size tykes which sets them all aggigle. A lovely experience.

Tramping higher and higher, we ford several streams, before hitting the misty rain (Bajareque) and swirling clouds that the area is famous for. This is quite a change after the blasting equatorial sun we had been experiencing back in the city. We didn't bring along any warm clothes but could have used some here. After a good five hour workout, we arrive back and are eager to warm up with a hot shower and of course …. some delightful Panamanian rum!  It is, after all,  Christmas!

We celebrate a candlelit Christmas dinner in a fireside lounge of the classic Paramonte Inn. Built in 1914 it was the first lodging here in town, and offers storybook charm painted sky-blue and surrounded by a white picket fence and beautifully tended gardens. Certainly a delightful Christmas to remember.

For a day trip we drive back down to David  and then detour off to see the mountain villages of Volcan and Cerro Punta. The weather is kind of wet and miserable but the countryside is simply gorgeous, and the day is brightened as we stumble across a partial English radio station belting out some wonderful old tunes by the likes of the Beatles and Sony and Cher !  

Back to Boquete for the usual happy hour in the funky bar at the Garden Inn.  Each night at 6pm there is a happy hour where guests get together for kind of a meet and greet, and over some tasty wine swap travel tails and exploits of the day.

The days melt pleasantly away with a few more hikes, and side trips, including a visit to the natural Caldera Hot Springs. Time to drive back to David and catch a flight to Panama City , but as we leave our B&B the car gets a flat tire. Panic sets in as I fear we may miss our plane.  However, changing the tire with pit-crew speed, I get it fixed and we arrive back with time to spare.

After our flight back to PC,  we're again looking for an excuse to escape the city. An opportunity to spend a night in a small village called El Valle avails itself so - we are all over it like hair on soap. We take a bus ride that crosses over the distinctive Bridge of Americas which spans the canal.

Arriving in El Valle, we find a quiet and quaint little village, with near perfect weather and scenery. It's located in the second-largest inhabited extinct volcano in the world, and is beautifully surrounded by mountain peaks. After a quick bo-peep around, we manage to squeeze in one short but scenic hike before dusk. Tomorrow we bus back to PC.  

After some concern about which bus to catch, we have one pointed out by some locals. We're 'sardined' in to the last two seats at the back of the crowded bus. However, it continues to make stops as more and more people push and shove their way on.  Locals are now jammed in the isle and sitting on any available floor space or laps!

I've got a runny nosed kid on one knee, a woman breastfeeding a baby on one side, and a woman puking into a plastic bag on the other!  Cumbia music is blaring from overhead speakers as the numb-nutted driver hurls the metallic missile dangerously down the narrow mountain road. Clearly, napping was not an option!  Two hours later we mercifully receive clemency, as we pull into the crowded Panama City bus station. We can't get off the bus soon enough!

Today we are taking a boat for a day trip over to Taboga Island, known as the Island of Flowers, and located only 12 miles off the Panamanian coast. It is one very small island with a lovely beach. While other head for the sun umbrellas on the main beach, we wander off in the opposite direction to be alone. Christine and I amble along the main town path which is still pleasantly adorned with colourful Christmas decorations. Off in the distance, far atop the biggest hill we spot a large white cross, and decide to try and hike up to it.

The sun is scorching and the path steep, but a couple of hours later we make the summit, and are treated to a spectacular vista of Taboga.  Carefully we make our way back to the beach and enjoy a quick swim in the crystal clear blue sea. Then suddenly I have a beer itch that must be scratched! Before we know it the mango sun pinkens the horizon, and we are boating back for our final day in Panama City.

We make a final trip out to the Miraflores Locks satisfy our curiosity of the isthmus.  Interesting to note that more than 52 million gallons of fresh water are used for every ship that transits through the Panama Canal from one ocean to another. The canal is one remarkable accomplishment for sure.

My addled recollections of Panama City, amongst other things, include snarled traffic, Diablo Rojos, Indians selling molas on the streets, a proliferation of police, great rum, fat women, fruit sellers, rubbish, lack of street signs, muggy weather and neighborhoods, parakeets on the streets, good Argentinean Malbec, sewage spilling onto the streets, and taxi drivers buzzing about looking for new friends.

So on reflection, while we rather enjoyed the outer areas, I think I would rather pour honey over my genitals and lie on an ant bed,  than go back to Panama City itself.  However, there's caboodles of construction happening, so in perhaps in time, it will be successful in reinventing itself as a tourist destination. But for now, IMHO, the city is about as sophisticated as a warthog in a top hat.

Despite a few blemishes, we loved our trip.  Then again, we love all our trips.   We collect them!  

Mark Colegrave

Dec 2008