Road Trip

View of farm in the Azuero.


Church in Chitre.

Rush hour in the Azuero.

The taxi to Isla Caña.

The hired car watchman in Laguira, the launch town for Isla Grande.

The view from Isla Grande.

Portobello locals.

Portobello.

The fort and customs house of Portobello.

We spent the last week cruising around in a rental car with Stuart, an Australian we met in Nicaragua, Bridget, his Panamanian girlfriend and Bram an American friend of theirs who´s studying in Panama City. Stuart was traveling down from Mexico handing out flyers for the hostel he owns in Panama City when we met and discussed our plans. We decided to team up, rent a car and explore beach towns that may be in need of a good guest house.

The driving was great thanks to the good roads in Panama and the beautiful scenery. We saw a good deal of the Azuero Peninsula which is known as the heartland of Panama with its frequent traditional celebrations and Spanish colonial architecture. We stopped in various towns on the western side of the peninsula often turning down side roads to check out the beaches. Aside from the occasional surfer they are pretty empty with nice views of nearby islands and long stretches of a black, brown or baige sand.

We spent one night on Isla Caña searching for sea turtles who come annually to bury their eggs in the sand. Unfortunately, it´s a little early in the season and we weren´t lucky enough to see any. From an island in the Pacific we drove all the way to an island in the Caribbean. It was a long day, but the beach waiting for us on Isla Grande was well worth it.

On our last day we wandered around Portobello and Nombre de Dios, two of the first settled areas in the Americas. Portobello has several pieces of an old fortress that sit right on the water and an old customs house that saw much of the gold collected in Panama before it was shipped to Spain.

For now we are on to Mexico, but we are content to know that Panama has some great possibilities.

Órale.

40 Years Later

We experienced some annoying set backs over these last couple of weeks because Brendan and I both suffered bouts of illness. So we have spent way too much time laying around and not nearly enough time exploring. However, by some miracle if you ask me, Brendan´s dad tracked down a Panamanian man he met in gradschool and traveled in Europe with forty years ago! We have yet to meet the actual man, José Raul, but we have spent some serious quality time with a number of his children and grandchildren. The family we have met so far has been beyond generous to us. We first met up with Jose´s Daughter, Ana Matilda and her three sweet, highly energetic pre-teens. They hosted us in their luxurious country home in El Valle, a lovely mountain town where many successful city dwellers own houses, and nice ones at that. We were astonished at the number of beautiful homes with lush gardens, spring fed pools, and mountain views. El Valle is definitely not your typical country town in Panama. After lounging around here for a few days, we decided we rather enjoyed having a maid to clean up after us and so decided to take up their offer to stay at their home in the city.

So here we are in the bustling, metropolitan city of Panama. The day after we arrived, Ana Matilda and company actually departed for a two week cruise and left us their home. So far most of our time in the city has been spent relaxing and trying to get healthy but we did manage to take a day trip to the Caribbean coast, which was an amazingly short hour and a half drive through jungle, where we walked around an old Spanish fortress sacked by the Pirate Henry Morgan. The ruins stand on a cliff looking onto the ocean at the mouth of the Rio Chagras where boats enter the canal heading towards the Pacific. We enjoyed watching a few huge ships pass through the Gatun Locks, the first on the Caribbean side of the canal. The enormity of the canal and it´s process was entirely fascinating. We learned some financial tid-bits that surprised us. First, the largest sized cargo ship pays 280,000 dollars to pass through the canal carrying 3,000 containers, and second the Canal grosses an average of 1.5-2 million dollars in one day! Not Bad!

Our most delightful day in Panama City was spent strolling around Casco Viejo, the old colonial part of town. The colorfully painted buildings with balconies and courtyards are reminiscent of the French Quarter. This city is the oldest on the Pacific coast of the Americas first established by the Spanish and later developed by the French who came to work on the canal. Today there is a mix of cultures and a strong Afro-Caribbean vibe. Although, very run down with a long history of poverty and rent control issues, it is undergoing serious renovation and the mix of old and new has undeniable charm.

Campesinos Locos

"Campesinos locos, matando la selva". Crazy farmers, killing the forest. That´s what Edgar, our guide would say when we passed another place where the indiginous Ngobe Buglé had slashed and burned a section along the road from Santa Fe to the Caribbean town, Calovebora. It´s also what he called our group as we stumbled through our trip as only imitation campesino gringos can. The Ngobe Buglé are clearing patches of forest to build houses and plant bananas and plaintains. According to Edgar they can live on that alone and they require virtually no maintenance.

Between the president Torrijos rushing to finish the road through to the Caribbean where he owns tracks of land and the Ngobe Blugé slashing and burning along the way, it seems that the town of Calovebora, it´s surrounding coast and the journey to get there is going to change quickly and drastically.
We took advantage of our timing and set out on horseback with Edgar and Etienne, a French-Canadian we met at the hostel, to make the two day trip up and down hill after hill and through several rivers to Calovebora. The first day was 12 hours on horseback. Ouch. Etienne had never been on a horse and refused to urge his on with anything but kind words. He stayed behind. Edgar´s mule refused to move an inch unless one of the other horses went in front so it was up to Angie and I to take the lead. About an hour into the ride I got sick on the side of the road and felt woozy for the rest of the day. Halfway through the day Angie´s horse decided it had had enough of going slow and began galloping through the bottom of every downhil with her hanging on for dear life. Edgar decided to tie her horse to his mule. When we finally reached Rio Luis, where we would stay for the night, we stopped to wait for Etienne. After a while his horse came over the top of the hill without it´s rider. Not a good sign. It turned out that everything was fine. The tarp protecting Etienne´s saddle (it rained for the last 4 hours) had fallen off and when he dismounted to get it his horse decided to finish the trip without him. Needless to say, we were extremely relieved to get to our resting point in one piece. We stayed at a family´s house where we were given beds and hot food and were stared at by their children.
The next morning the four of us and a driver piled into a huge dug-out canoe with all of our bags and headed for three hours to Calovebora. The ride was exciting with lots of little rapids. The scenery was lush green virgin hills. We had to get out a few times to let the driver navigate some really shallow spots. That was fine with us. Sitting indian-style on a wooden seat after an all day horse ride is not comfortable. When we got to Calovebora Edgar set us up in a wooden house that cost $5.00 per night, total.
We spent the next three days swimming, fishing, relaxing, resting our backsides and listening to Edgar resite the sceintific and popular names of all the bugs, frogs, butterflies and birds that we saw or he tracked down.
We ate breakfast and dinner at a family´s house where we were served yams, another unknown root and fried fish for breakfast and then fried plantains, rice and fried or stewed fish for dinner. 75 cents per plate.

The town itself is very quiet. It sits on a hill overlooking the Caribbean and at the mouth of a river. They have no electricity, their water runs from a spring. About 200 people live there and, from what we saw, they do a whole lot of nothing. When the conditions are right they run out and haul in a bunch of fish. If they catch one big enough someone in the next town will hear about it and may bring their boat over to buy it from them. They eat plaintains, bananas and various roots, no greens or other vegetables. They have a school and a small health center. The beach is untouched. Since it´s the beginning of the rainy season the muddy water from the river made the rest of the coast murky, but it was still beautiful.
The journey back was less eventful. We walked to Rio Luis as the river was too low to go up, spent the night and then got back on the horses. Our horses knew they were going home so didn´t need much encouragement and we did the trip in 10 hours. For now we are going to continue searching, but, so far Santa Fe is at the top of the list.

Santa Fe

We took a bus ride over the entire width of Panama from the Pacific to the Caribbean coast in a total of four hours! The ride was up and over lush, barely touched mountains. Isla Colon, the largest of the many islitas of Bocas Del Toro overwhelmed us with the amount of Gringos, so we spent our time on Isla Bastimentos, a jungle rich island with beautiful empty beaches, no roads and a tiny town. We walked for entire days exploring beaches and the jungle interior. One day was spent kayaking to another small island where we snorkeled and relaxed in a cute little white sand cove. After a few sunny days and one tropical rainstorm, we headed back over the mountains to the Pacific coast where we spent a day in Las Lajas at perhaps the longest, widest beach either of us had seen. The waves were huge and powerful but nobody was surfing because the place was virtually vacant, a strange phenomenon. Houses are beginning to go up however and we were told by a guard that one of the new foundations belongs to a cousin of Steven Segal!

From there we took a bus to the glorious

mountain town of Santa Fe. The Small village is surrounded by green mountains and a plethora of rivers and waterfalls. The number of hikes is endless. There is a refreshing swimming hole a twenty minute walk down a steep hill from our Hostel. On the walk you pass a coffee factory producing the local coffee, Tute.

An incredible view is at every turn of every road and the climate is like summer time in Vermont all year round!

Yesterday we walked straight up hill for two hours to a tiny village called El Salto. The village is basically one large family, five small houses. We stopped at one of the little houses and asked about going to the waterfalls. Two cousins, Rosa and Jorge age 14 and 15, offered to take us. The hour walk was incredible. Each waterfall was more impressive than the last. After trusting our lives with these children, scaling rocks and climbing into caves, we were relieved to make it to the final and most stunning "charo" of them all. This waterfall was pouring out of a gigantic cave and when Jorge threw a rock at it hundreds of bat like birds flew out and into the valley like maniacs. We couldn´t figure out if they were in fact bats because of the white collar around the neck but they sure sounded like them. After swimming and hanging out for a while at one of the water holes we went back and ate lunch with the family. Typical rice and beans and a fried egg. They Successfully stuffed us with ridiculously juicy oranges from their tree and sent us on our way.

We are delighted with Santa Fe. It is a sweet town with friendly people and amazing surroundings. Tomorrow we are embarking on a seldom traveled journey by horseback and canoe to the Caribbean from Santa Fe.

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.