Cerro Punta

We´re very excited about the guesthouse posibilities here in Panama. From what we have seen so far the people are refreshingly freindly and open. We have talked to several expats living here and they say that they are comfortable in the community. That is something that we were never sure of in Nicaragua. We are also excited about the nicely paved roads and the fact that you can drink the water almost everywhere.

The small town we are in has grocerie and hardware stores and the internet.......and few options for lodging. The biggest attraction is the numerous lush cloud forest national parks that surround the valley, one of which includes Volcan Baru, the highest point in Panama. If you´re lucky, on a clear day you can see the Pacific and the Caribbean from the Volcano. We only had the chance to explore Parque Amistad where we saw the beautiful waterfall and the panamanian tour group you see in the pictures. We hoped to see the Quetzal, allegedly one of the most beautiful birds in the world but our search will have to continue.

Aside from the nature the area is known for its produce, especially black berries and strawberries. Throughout the hillsides there are swiss-style houses with beautiful gardens thanks to a migration generations ago. Along with their architecture they brought great yogurt and cream. The main road is littered with stands selling the local specialty, strawberrys and cream. We could hardly believe how delicious it is. Our feeling about this place is good enough that we spent the last couple days exploring property with a real estate agent. She showed us some interesting prospects. For now, we will continue our search by hiking around the volcano to Boquete and keep Cerro Punta in mind.

Parque Corcovado

We're writing from Panama, where we arrived yesterday after breezing through Costa Rica with a quick stop in Parque Corcovado for some jungle trekking. In La Palma, one of the launch towns for treks in Parque Corcovado, we met Thomas and Tau, two friendly Danes. We quickly established that we were going on the same route and decided to join forces. Three days, many miles, animals and laughs later it proved to be a good match.

After getting pretty much no sleep thanks to our convenient location right next to the neighborhood earplug-defying disco we left at 5am in the back of a pick up bound for Los Patos, the first ranger station. The Danes were slightly disheartened because their attempt at making hammocks from plastic fencing and pvc piping hadn´t gone as planned. When they tested them, the plastic stretched and began to tear. They figured they might get half a night out of them before crashing to the ground.

The walk was about 10 miles through lush, noisey, very much alive jungle. We saw three different kinds of monkeys, tons of birds, countless little lizards and a few snakes. The walk was pretty flat and always shady. When we got to La Sirena we were ecstatic to find a covered camping platform and running water. The Danes lucked out and never had to put their hammocks to the test.

That night we devoured a large can of Sardines and several packs of crackers while the Danes mixed a tin of tuna with some refried beans. The next day we woke to the sound of howler monkies so loud that you can´t help but picture huge beasts fighting for their lives. After breakfast we watched a poor dragon fly land in the web of an enormous spider. The spider quickly ran over, bit and paralized the drafon fly, spun more web around it, cut it from the edge and brought it to the heart of the web. Later we walked over to the river Sirena to try and see the Bull Sharks that swim upstream at high tide. No sharks appeared, but we did see two big crocodiles floating in shallow water. In the afternoon we swam and hung around the station watching as various big rodents walked through the clearing. In the middle of the second night the whole camp awoke to what sounded like two Danes being attacked by a wild boar or poisonous snake. There was foot stomping and lots of yelling, something that sounded like "Uhl". They said everything was ok, maybe just a nightmare, they weren´t even really sure. In the morning if was the talk of the camp, the guides kept asking where the Anaconda was. Some of the truth surfaced when Tau told of a night in Rome where his girlfriend woke with a bruise on her leg after dreaming that an enormous gladiator was kicking her from the Collesium and he dreamed that there was something in his bed that he had to get uhl (sp?), out in Danish.
Day three was a long, hot hike on and off the beach to La Leona, the last station. The view was mist rising from black sand, large rocks off the coast and a hillside of virgin jungle. The Danes saw a very large orange and black snake. We all saw an Ant Eater and then more rodents, monkies, birds and lizards. We were totally wiped by the time we got to the end and then spent two bumpy hours in the back of a pick up to get back to civilization. We celebrated with a shower, hot meal and our jungle bed time, 7:30.

Little Corn

The panga ride to Little Corn was smooth sailing over pristine blue-green water. We couldn't believe the tiny spot of paradise as we jumped off the boat onto the white sand. No cars, motorbikes, engines, only sounds of water lapping onto the shore and chattering voices of the Caribbean. We followed Jefferson, the Alaskan fisherman/hunter who spends a couple months of the year as a fishing guide on Little Corn, down the sandy path through palms and jungle to the other side of the island. A twenty minute walk later we found ourselves at Carlito´s, Sunrise Paradise. We immediately fell in love. Our green palm-roofed bungalow looked directly onto the turquoise sea, and the constant breeze made for delightful weather.

The staff at Carlito´s became quick friends. Brenda, with her adorably naughty one-and-a-half-year-old, Julisa. Tamara,

the darling, silly Little Corn teen. Erwin the maintenance boy who wore a constant smile. Pablito, the wonderful flambouyant chef who loved having heart-to-hearts with me and Brendan, his new confidants and Carlito, the man himself, the king of Little Corn!

The Group became like family and a month later we were still spending our days relaxing in hammocks, snorkeling, swimming, playing dominoes, being true beach bums. Carlito´s bungalow operation was beginning to look like a commune. Our one neighbor, Leo, had been there for a year-and-a-half selling handmade jewelery from coconuts. Gregor, a real Scott, who honestly missed Haggis, stayed at least six weeks. And then there was the Swedish invasion. The island was hopping with an astounding number of Swedes, a country that must be full of kind, fun loving, easy going people. Sophie, Ana, Ana and Jonas were friends from the start. They too were struggling to move on. In fact Ana and Jonas got all the way to the airport at Big Corn, sent luggage through security (which wasn´t much) and right before the plane took on passengers realized they couldn´t possibly leave! They rushed to the front counter to retrieve their luggage explaining to the clerk that they had forgotten something very important on Little Corn and surprised us all with their completely irrational return.

The inexorable peace and beauty, friendly locals and dear friends this incredible island supported made it nearly impossible to leave. We´re not sure we´ll ever find another place quite like it.

Soon Reach

You can get from Managua to Little Corn Island in a night and a day´s time by bus and boat, theoretically. Most people choose to take the hour and a half flight. We figured we would go the local route, enjoy the journey. It took us three days and two nights.

Our trip began in Granada with an easy hour to a bus stop in Managua. From there we took a cab through neighborhood after undistinguishable neighborhood of Managua sprawl to the bus station for Rama. We were delighted to see a modern bus waiting, surely equipped with a/c and reclining seats, both necesities for eight hours of night travel. We waited happily and watched as the English speaking Carribean people gathered. The scene was entertaining until everyone started loading on to the bus. We joined in only to be told that we were on bus #2. I had seen it sitting there outside the station, full of all those field trip memories, and chosen to ignore it. They can´t expect people to sit for 8 hours on one of the knee-mashing old Blue Bird school buses that carried American children to and from school until they were old enough to be decommisioned and given to Nicaragua. We asked, and, that was percisely what they expected.We were able to at least take comfort in the fact that the bus had been carefully repainted, adorned with blinking disco lights and streamers running through the inside and had a large disclaimer pasted on the front: "Yo manejo, Jesus Me Guia" (I drive, Jesus Guides Me). It´s always nice to know that God supports your trip, but we would rest easier knowing that the driver feel personally responsible for the safety of his cargo. There was one real plus: the knee-mashers had been replaced with reclining seats, but then, ours were broken. We drove up and over the mountains where occasionally the driver lent the wheel to Jesus who tested our faith by taking corners way to tight and scaring the $%&/ out of us and eventually landed safely in Rama.

The boat ride from Rama to Blufields is incredible. Three hours of smooth riding down a narrow river with virgin tropical forests on either side. We arrived in Bluefields ready to hop the ferry to Big Corn. Several people we talked to in Granada before we left told us bus schedules and had various suggestions of how to make our trip more comfortable. No one mentioned that there are only three ferrys a week from Bluefields to Big Corn. The next day we got our things together early and headed down to the peir where we waited for the 8am ferry to finally leave at 1pm. At that point we still had a chance of getting to Big Corn in time for the last panga (skiff) over to the little island, but what we read is a 5 hour ferry actually took 9 hours. People on the boat kept saying "soon reach, soon reach". We spent the night on Big Corn and took the first boat over in the morning. Paradise was waiting and well worth every minute of the journey.