Panama – Way too hot

We found a boat!! We gave up on the folks who’d been trying to get us a quote in San Jose, and have decided to ship with Evelyn Batista’s company in Panama. She found us a boat that leaves on March 9 from the port city Colon (for folks trying to find some of our smaller towns on the map, try going to either Google Earth or Google Maps, and typing in the name of the town. The program will find the town for you, even if it wasn’t on the map before. These gizmos know more than they let on). The Lonely Planet guidebook says, basically, don’t go to Colon if you can avoid it, since you will mostly likely get mugged in broad daylight, no matter what precautions you take. It also gives us enough time to get to Panama City, do customs stuff, look for a solar panel and a porta-potty (we might have better luck, since these are items many sailboats use, and there is a really big yacht club in Panama City), see the Panama Canal, then take the car back to Colon by Friday. Whew. We won’t have much time to spare, since it’s a day either way, but we should have just enough time to do everything.

Let me back up a bit, to just before we left San Jose. We spent two more days there, waiting to hear from Evelyn about the boats, and also trying to run errands (like find solar panels, etc). It was incredibly frustrating, because we couldn’t get any of it done, despite being in a gritty city. We went from store to store, asking our questions, then getting directions to the *next* store, who just might have what we were looking for, then wandering the really hot and dusty streets. Ugh. To get a break from it, and because we really miss movies, we spent our evenings out at the cinema in the big mall on the edge of town. A little dose of Hollywood can be just the thing for the 3rd world blues…. 8)

Once we heard from Evelyn that she could ship our car for certain, we packed up our stuff and headed south, and east (Panama mostly runs on an east-west axis – it’s a funny-shaped bit of land). We spent a terrible night in a parqueo in San Isidro de la General, because it was where we were when it got dark, and there wasn’t anywhere good to stay. The idea of camping is non-existent in Central America. We think this is because in most countries it’s too dangerous to spend the night in the wilderness with just the thin walls of a tent to shelter you – where would you attach the razor wire?? Costa Rica is an exception – you can often camp in the national parks. But the van can’t always deal with the long dirt roads that lead to them. So, a parqueo for us. Unluckily, we picked one right next to a disco, and they played LOUD 80’s music until the wee hours. What’s up with Central America and 80’s music, anyhow???

The next morning, we crossed the border into Panama. We chose the smallest of the 3, just for something different. We were also hoping to avoid the big scene with the guides that we’d had to deal with at the last 2 borders. Let me backtrack a little more – I don’t think we said much about our last border crossing. At the Nicaragua/Costa Rica border (we went through Penas Blancas), our guide tried to rip us off. He told us we’d be waiting for at least 4 hours, but that he had connections and could get us through the border really quickly if we would just give him $20 to give to the border guards. He said we couldn’t give it to them ourselves, because that was illegal, but he could give it to them for us, and save us the 4 hour wait. Luckily, Douglas’ scam radar was working, he didn’t pay him the $20, and we were through in 30 minutes. The border guards were perfectly efficient, and seemed very surprised when Douglas suggested that there might be a long wait. Our guide then had the cheek to tell us that we hadn’t tipped him enough! We gave him enough for 2 beers, for 30 minutes of work. He got indignant and asked “What’s this?? I usually get at least $10!! Give me $10!!” We refused (we’re not paying him $20/hour!!!), and he walked off in a big huff. This was our introduction to Costa Rica last week.

The Panamanian border was much different. It was so small and relaxed we accidentally drove through it and were told to turn back!! It was 10 km down a dirt road, just two buildings by the side of the road. Everything was very informal. The Costa Ricans were standing around outside their building, and watched us drive by into Panama, then turn around and come back. I guess they were amused by our shenanigans. They stamped us out of the country, and a woman walking down the dirt road dealt with our car paperwork on her way to lunch. On the Panamanian side, the border guard had brought her teenage son to work with her, and introduced us to him, and we all chatted for a while. When it came time to pay the car fumigation fee ($3), we didn’t have correct change, and the border folk didn’t have any change, either, so we went across the street to have lunch (amazingly good fried chicken) and get some change, then came back to finish crossing the border. It was as chill as could be. El Sereno, it’s called, appropriately enough. We recommend this crossing highly. The dirt road leading to it is very picturesque, too – lovely hilly vistas, and a 3-foot long iguana crossing the road!! It was huge! We could see the muscles rippling in its bright orange arms!!

Now we’re in Panama, and it’s the opposite of Costa Rica (which we didn’t like as much as we expected to). In Costa Rica, the landscape was absolutely gorgeous, and the people were, for the most part, surly (with a few notable exceptions, like Dr. Marco, my dentist, Mireya, the schoolteacher at Finca los Maestros, and Andres, a volkswagen enthusiast who pulled up next to us in San Jose traffic, and started talking about vanagons – we pulled over and chatted for a while and traded contact information). Otherwise, we had more encounters with downright rude people than we have had in any other country. Panama, on the other hand, is kind of a wasteland, with odd oases of hilly beauty, and the people are incredibly warm and friendly. Complete strangers keep striking up conversations with us.

We spent last night in Boquete, a small hilltown about 40 km north of the Panamerican Hwy that reminded us of Banff, AB. It was very small and cute, and we ate some terrible pizza and had another wonderful post office experience with lots of arcane instructions involving glue, tape, paper, and stamps (both rubber and lickable). We also found our first road that la Tortuga couldn’t handle, on the way to Volcan Baru. We wanted to camp there, but had to give up on the dirt ‘road’ and turn back and camp in town, alas.

Tonight we’re in El Valle, Panama, about 2 hours from Panama City. We’re camped outside the police station, and had a delicious dinner of fresh orange juice, stewed chicken, and flattened plantains. We tried to give the police a 6-pack of beer to thank them for letting us camp behind their station, but they refused!! They asked for Coke!! We are not in Nicaragua, anymore, Toto. This makes me feel oddly at home. Once more in a country where you can’t thank the on-duty police with beer. Ah.
We’re going to the local craft market in the morning, then on a short hike to see the famous golden frogs, and then we’re off to (hopefully) camp at the yacht club in Panama City and arrange to ship La Tortuga. We’re both feeling pretty exhausted by this whole shipping rigamarole, and poor Douglas has caught a nasty cold. Hopefully we’ll sleep well tonight and feel better tomorrow. And, fingers crossed, we should be in South America in a week!!! We can’t wait…mountains and llamas.