Redefined Timeline

The Panamanian border crossing was not what we expected. First, stand in line to prove you entered Costa Rica legally, and then prove you have a transit ticket out of the country (even if it’s fake – new lesson learned for the day… there are websites that generate fake plane tickets JUST for this border crossing). Then walk from Costa Rica into Panama where a Panamanian military dude checks your stamps, and waves you through without hesitation. He didn’t even glance to make sure it was my photo on the passport. Then load your luggage into a wheelbarrow and walk a block to another immigration control area to receive another stamp. After that, hop on your next mode of transportation (van), just to be stopped down the road to get your passport checked yet again.

After the cluster fuck of a crossing from Costa Rica to Panama, Rafa had us reload our luggage onto our next mode of transportation, a second shitty van. He insisted on placing our bags on the roof, but I requested to hold onto mine inside since the skies looked like they were about to open up. Rafa demanded my backpack, but I clutched onto it like a fat kid does candy. He rolled his eyes and eventually gave in. Less than ten minutes into the drive, my inkling about the weather came to fruition, causing Rafa to make a panic stop to move all of the luggage into the van. I took the high road and didn’t rub it in his face. Instead, I sat in my dry seat giggling. 

We arrived in Bocas del Toro to check into our insanely upgraded hotel from the one in Costa Rica. The room had A/C, a balcony, and no cat hogging our bed. Thank you, Intrepid Travel, for choosing this hotel. Bocas del Toro, and/or Mouth of the Bull and/or Bocas Town, is located on the southern tip of Isla Colón. It’s a beach town with quite a few ex-pats residing there. Water sports are a popular pastime in the crystal clear waters of the gulf coast. We intended to take advantage of said recreational activities. 

First full day, we embarked on a snorkeling trip around the archipelago. Sadly, it was cloudy and rainy, not allowing for the best snorkeling, but it was still an excellent day. While this did not hold a candle to snorkeling in the Maldives, we got to play with a boat load of fishes and starfishes. The best part of the excursion was underwater water skiing (I have no idea what it’s actually called, but it involved gripping a half moon shaped board attached to the rear of the boat and diving in, out and under the seas. The floating craft did not move at the same speed as traditional water skiing, instead moving at a crawl, though it did not feel that slow underneath the surf. A tilt of the board downward and you dove deeper. A tilt upward and you breached the surface. A twist sideways and you descended into a barrel roll. Fun, or not so fun, fact, this move may result in water entering the ear canal if you aren’t careful. Unless you want to get stranded by the boat, letting go to clear the agua from your ear is not a viable option.  Moral of the story: I ended up with water deep in my ear canal, one of my biggest pet-peeves. The activity was still well worth it, and I wish I had the GoPro video of us all diving and bobbing, but the device failed us yet again and the video was immediately corrupted. 

One of the stops on the outing was at Marino Isla Bastimentos Parque Nacional. We were given some time to either wander the island or relax on the beach. Hubs and I opted to walk and escape the crowded main beach area and rancid bathroom facilities. The island had the essence of a protected wetland since the interior was basically swamp.

Last boating break was on Cayo Zapatilla a tiny little island a short jaunt away. The boat operators kindly prepped a fresh fruit buffet for us, including chopping open a freshly picked coconut. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon!

Bocas Town is extremely walkable, riddled with bars and restaurants, lined with shops and tour companies, and boasts delightfully warm December weather. Given that I have been a HUGE slacker keeping up with the last year(s) travel posts, I don’t recall all the restaurants and bars we feasted at, but they were all quite tasty. The group did go out one of the nights to a few waterfront bars at Rafa’s recommendation. Many adult beverages were consumed. Rafa taught us a new Spanish slang phrase describing Hubs’ inebriated state that night… ‘Estoy a la verga!’ It is apparently a crass was of saying, ‘I am wasted.’ I even tried to larcen another puppy on the stroll to the restaurant. Had the little ball of energy not had an owner, I would have hidden him under my shirt and made him our mascot for the remainder of the tour. Alas, I had to settle for just petting the little guy briefly when the owner thwarted my efforts. 

At Rafa’s suggestion, the Hubs and I rented bikes from his buddy’s shop in order to transport ourselves to a gorgeous beach north of Bocas called Playa Bluff. They were the worst bikes ever – they were in disrepair, rusted and uncomfortable. Hubs’ chain fell off multiple times, resulting in very grimy hands. At one point, a “nice” gentleman stopped to assist with fixing the chain. He was much less benevolent than we expected, insisting on a financial reward for these services. Alas, we were peso-free at the time. The route to the beach was not as simple to find and navigate as Rafa lead us to believe. Half the roads were sand, potholed and bumpy. It was worth the trek, though, since we finally got a sunny day at the beach.

After several days dealing with only half of my hearing capabilities, I could tell there was an infection beginning to plague my ear channel. Fuck. I am no stranger with visiting doctors in various foreign countries (see my post about the Lushoto ankle sprain and my pink eye calamity in Dar es Salaam or the most recent in Peru when I got a nasty sinus infection the day before flying home which resulted in the doc giving me a steroid shot in the ass – post coming eventually). Uncle Google provided information for a clinic just down from our hotel. Unlike visiting the doctor in the States, this was a speedy walk in at an English speaking office for a five minute consultation with an actual M.D. He shooed me out of the office in less that ten minutes armed with a prescription for antibiotics and advised I purchase a bottle of oil to dump into my ear in order to coax the clog out. No insurance required with a cost at a whopping $25 USD. Winner.

Now for a bus ride to Boquete in the mountains of Panama, but I’ll finish with the handstands…