Into the center

Hello again everyone. Sorry about the delay. I did write this about 10 days ago but couldn’t upload it until now. Still, only 2 weeks behind is not bad for me.


We take off into Central Panama. Although we are heading for the mountains it is unlikely that we will make it in one day so we decide to stop at Las Lajas Beach. This turns out to be Panama’s longest beach (but I never did find out exactly how long it is) and it is a really beautiful, long stretch of palm-lined sand.







Despite there being miles of beach there are only about10-15 people staying here and so it is far from crowded.

There are only 4 options for accommodation. A set of cabinas just on the beach, a set of wooden cabinas about 100 yards from the beach, a really odd property that seems to have the choice between a makeshift tarpaulin tepee or a 2 storey wooden box that has a spiral staircase that is so steep I suspect you would have to abseil up and down them when you need the loo in the middle of the night, and the final option is a really lovely brand new hotel with rooms that easily hold 2 queensize beds, matching linen, gorgeous pool and real glass windows. We reluctantly decide to save $300 dollars and stay in a very rudimentary cabina right on the beach.

We move the bed so that we can see the view onto the ocean as we wake up and I decide to ignore the mouse droppings in the bathroom unless I actually see or hear scampering critters. Although we didn’t stay at the swanky hotel we do decide to have dinner there. It was lovely to be just 10 yards from the roaring surf and we had a lovely dinner. After dinner it is time to sit and look at the stars. There is no sea mist and, consequently, I don’t think I have ever seen so many stars shining so exquisitely. I could practically count the stars in the Milky Way - the whole concept of galaxies and our minute presence here has never been so evident.

When I stir briefly at about 5.45 am the view from the bed is amazing as the dawn light tints the palm trees, sand and, now distant, surf. Unfortunately, when I stir again at 9.15 it is to the whine of some type of motor bike going backwards and forwards just outside our window. I throw on enough clothes to go and investigate with my dignity intact, and discover a Panamanian family have decided to treat their 9 year old boy to a weekend at the beach with his beach buggy. Mindful that I don’t want to upset the locals (well at least not enough to incur their wrath) I try to muster enough polite Spanish to ask them why they have chosen this particular 100 meter stretch at this ungodly hour of the morning when there are people still sleeping and at least 10 other miles of beach with no-one !!!!! In fairness the father did apologise and call his son in - but honestly, even if it had been 2pm in the afternoon, why ruin everyone else’s peace and quiet when there really couldn’t be more room for them to find a space where no-one else would be disturbed.

When they then went on to unpack the 500 litre coolbox from the back of the jeep and settle in for the weekend we decided not to stay and we were packed and had moved hotel to option 2 before Brett had even had coffee. We had sacrificed our sea view but were more certain of a peaceful stay. Despite our rude awakening we did have a lovely couple of days here and might have stayed longer if the facilities had been available to make things a bit more comfortable. Because biker boy and his family had monopolized the shaded part of the beach it was difficult to really relax on the beach without risking 3^rd degree sunburn. Although there were a couple or new places being built, Las Lajas was more like a mini ghost resort - with at least 4 decaying and seemingly empty beachside bars. Having said that, it was probably just the Panamanian penchant for decrepitude and the place is probably rammed full at the weekend.

So, Friday morning sees us heading on the road again as we go another 60km further north and inland up into the mountains.

A quick aside about the geographical orientation of Panama … it is odd how we feel that we are traveling westwards, when we are in fact traveling northwards. This part of Central America is on such an angle and so narrow that, particularly looking at the driving map, you get the impression you are going from right to left rather than from the bottom to the top. Then you realise that the compass key on the map is rotated so that what we usually have as West is in fact North. No matter that we are now used to at least saying that we are heading North it still doesn’t feel like it. - quite bizarre.

It will be interesting to compare the highlands of India, Malaysia and Panama where each of them grows their tea and/or coffee. The trip up to the highlands here is much easier because it isn’t really that high; only a third of the elevation of India and Malaysia. Consequently, it is fresher but not as wet. Time to unpack the socks and fleece for a few days. Although it is not as cold or damp it is very, very windy.

The main town here is Boquete, which is popular with foreign retirees (mainly from the US), and so it has a lot more going on than we are used to so far on this trip. There are more restaurants and bars and supermarkets to choose from, with pretty much everything the Expat needs to survive. There are a lot of real estate agents in town and it seems that much is geared towards encouraging people to relocate here. Panama seems to have a genuine wish to have as many foreign residents living here as possible.

They positively encourage it with easy citizenship requirements and well organized land titles and buying procedures. I do wonder if this means that foreign businesses might exploit areas that the Panamanians might otherwise benefit from, but that doesn’t seem to be the case where we have been. Yes, most of the new businesses along the coast did have foreign owners but these were mainly couples who have decided to open things that, generally, improve the facilities that are available.

In terms of eco-tourism it is generally the foreigners who are investing and promoting the projects - the locals don’t seem to care. They make their money and get on with life. It seems logical that the foreigners who come here can afford to take the relative risk of ecotourism rather than just trying to make money. I also wonder if the locals haven’t really traveled or seen the effects of bad land management in the way that we have - and so they don’t recognise the need for more responsible business. In fairness, the main culprits for poor eco-management are the food and timber producers - with the massive deforestation that this entails - so who can blame them?!

Anyway, back to Boquete…

It is a typical little town with the usual mixture of concrete and wooden low level buildings. The surrounding area is really what you come for - and it is stunning. We realize how lucky we are to have the car for this part of the trip as it meant that we can follow the scenic routes up and down the very, very steep hills. Just outside of town we begin to see the groups of houses that belong to the indigenous population who seem to be linked mainly to the coffee plantations and this is where we see the first real effects of endemic poverty. Instead of the usual houses (albeit rickety and rundown) that we have seen so far, now we see more of what can only be described as tin huts, that is corrugated iron huts with plastic sheeting for windows and waterproofing. The couple of workers camps that I did see on the coffee plantations were much less organized than those we saw in Asia - and my assumption is that they are provided with much less here. At a pinch they may have running water and electricity - but I didn’t see any schools, clinics or churches close by. Unfortunately, we didn’t manage to talk to any of the locals here and I decided not to stop to take any pictures as it seemed a bit voyeuristic.

At one point we had stopped to take a picture of one of the ’views’ and asked two local girls if we could take their photo. As you can see they said yes but weren’t too sure about it, judging from their faces. A bit of a contrast to other places where they would practically be begging you to take a photo. However, the smaller girl’s face was positively beaming when I dug in my handbag and gave them a miniature pack of playing cards that I had (thanks Martin they are now 2,000 feet up a Panamanian mountain). As you can see, the girls are wearing the local dresses which are very lightweight cotton shifts with appliqué details and you often see the women and girls wearing them.

So, stunning views, amazing plant life and a bit of local colour. We were glad that we made it here. On our last day we went in search of what sounded like a lovely natural hot springs and, after a perilous 30 minute drive down a 2.5 km loose stone track and a sweltering 1km walk through the badly signposted wood, we did indeed find it. There were 3 spring pools, each a bit hotter than the last. It was amazing.

The pools are not very deep and don´t smell either.

This little boy was with his family at the springs. It seemed that mum and granny had come to soak their poor, tired feet in the pool and to collect a couple of bottles of water to take back with them. He was fascinated by the tourists and kept peeping out at us all.

We came across this bridge that crossed the river to a couple of stone cabins on the other side. Someone local person´s very perilous private access.

True to form it seems, despite the amenities that are here, there is very little that could be called ‘nightlife’ and we wonder where everyone goes after about 7pm. Most of the bars are very rough and ready and only the local diehards (predominantly men) frequent them. So, it is off to the supermarket for a couple of takeaway beers and a few quiet nights in for us.

Boquete´s fire engine.

Amazingly beautiful plantlife here. So vivid and really huge examples.

Central American plumbing. They have a very odd system for hot water showers here. This is a ´good´ one because the points are at least sealed. The first time we saw one we thought it was a DIY attempt, but they all use it here. So, every time you have a shower you live in fear of being electrocuted.

We tried to change the car to a one-way car rental so that we could go straight from David (which is just down the road) to Costa Rica but they wanted $180 dollars for the privilege so we opt for the drive back to Chitre instead. Cleverly, we leave our backs at the bus station in David so that we won’t have to bring them all the way back by bus tomorrow. Due to the really poor street signs and the hideously poor correlation between maps and reality it did take us 1 ½ hours to do so, but I’m sure it will be worth it in the end. We also got to experience the zoo that is the Central American bus station in full flow. It was so crowded and chaotic that we decided to wait until tomorrow evening when we get back to enquire about the buses from here to Costa Rica.

This time we make it without any speeding tickets and book back into our original hotel, where we bump into a bloke called John from Maine. He has just two weeks here in Panama but is so rapt with it that he is already planning his future trips. We donate our road map to him - which delights him no end - and invite him to eat with us that evening. He is an interesting man who plays the double bass in a jazz quartet back in Maine. He has played with some great jazz musicians not, by his own admission, because he is a great jazz player but because any of the greats who have played in his local town have needed a backing band and his has been handy! We end up with an invite to stay with him and his wife on our way to Nova Scotia later in the summer, as he lives half an hour away from the ferry. The world is indeed a very small place.

Tuesday finds us making our way by bus back to David. I am amazed that the second bus we took got out of the bus station, let alone the whole 280km. Every time the diver changed gear, you could hear the gears, which felt like they were just underneath Brett’s seat, grip each cog with an agonizing crescendo until they held. What with that and the 2 wheel cornering, I was very, very relieved when we got off the bus 3 hours later. We were right about it being less chaotic today and figure out that Monday is a very busy travel day here and we hit the worst possible time yesterday. In hindsight, the information that we needed was on various signs but when you are so anxious about having your stuff stolen and there are milling crowds everywhere it is difficult to see what is right in front of you.

A quick overnight stay in David (nothing to write home about at all) and then off to Costa Rica in the morning.

And now you are only a week behind us which is quickly rectified.