June 1
st
- 5
th
The night bus from Panama to Almirante
came with the usual side-effects: a constant repositioning of my legs
to try and get more comfortable, back ache and a stiff neck. The fact
that I couldn't sleep did mean, however, that I saw a beautiful sun
rise over the coast and jungle. There was a strip of mist across the
horizon, a crisp morning ambiance and shades of yellow and orange
emerged from the night sky. I often want to be able to click my
fingers and have my family and friends with me at such times so they can share in such magical moments - I know that no
words of mine nor any photos can do justice to what my eyes saw.
Having no guide book on Central
America, I arrived in Almirante a little confused, thinking it was a
port town but seeing no water anywhere. Luckily, I had met a couple
of Germans, Ernesto and Julian, and a Swedish girl, Anne, en route
who were more clued up than I on the logistics of getting to Isla
Colon, the island on which my destination, the town Bocas del Toro, stands. We jumped
in a minibus together for the short ride to the shore and then
boarded a water taxi for a 45 minute ride over to the island.
We headed straight for the hostel
“Mondu Taitu”, a partner hostel of “Castle Lunar Hostel” in
Panama City but were disappointed on arrival as it didn't live up to
its sister's standards: a small, noisy, wooden shack substitute for
accommodation. We were, however, too hot and tired by that point to
look for a more decent place so entered our names in the guestbook, thankful
at least that we each only had to pay a dollar more for private
double rooms.
Bocas del Toro was not the place to
catch up on the sleep I was lacking (due to travelling straight from
the San Blas islands to Panama City on 2 hours of sleep and then to
Bocas on a night bus). The town is mainly made up of one road along
which numerous bars, restaurants and tour operators stand – ie a
road of temptation. There are Happy Hours in just about every bar so
if you were to plan your drinking schedule well, you could drink at
half price throughout the night. One bar each evening also has a
“Ladies Night” which entitles girls to drink absolutely for free,
usually vodka, rum or gin with a mixer. The constant challenge was
trying to exploit the promotion to get drinks for the guys as well
and I think the bar tender in the Iguana Bar in particular
must have turned a blind eye – surely she didn't really think Anne
and I were the type of girls to be downing rum and cokes every 5
minutes?
On Wednesday night, we got a water taxi
over to the opposite island, Isla Bastimentos, to visit the much
talked about, among the backpacking community at least, Aqua Lounge.
This is a bar/hostel built on wooden posts coming out of the water. A
wooden deck encloses an area of the sea producing a cut-out ocean
swimming pool. There are platforms from which you can hurl yourself
into the water if that takes your fancy and a couple of swings on which you can either swing
out towards the sea or inwards towards the bar (and if you're brave
enough, let go and land in the pool). As the night went on, the
amount of exposed skin increased, the floor got wetter and more
slippery and the jumps into the pool looked more and more painful.
Possibly because Anne, Julian and Ernesto are all a number of years
younger than me, I felt a little bit old that night; it was fun
watching the others get wet but I was more content dancing than
swimming. One the way home, we were all pretty ravenous from the
island-hopping adventure but didn't want to join the long queues at
the sandwich stand. That's when Anne had the idea of breaking into
the hostel's kitchen store cupboard to find the pancake mixture which
is usually provided at 8am for make-your-own breakfasts. We applauded
her in her inspiration, figuring there was nothing really wrong with
helping ourselves to breakfast just a few hours earlier than normal,
and ate and chatted 'til about 4am. The following morning, Anne also
brought me pancakes in bed so I guess I got my money's worth on that
“pancake breakfast included” hostel deal.
The candle was burned at both ends
during our stay in Bocas as Anne and I were eager to make the most
out of both the “Ladies Nights” and the days in a place
surrounded by Caribbean waters. We joined the boys for a surfing
lesson our first morning there. The theory must have taken five
minutes maximum to be explained and then there was nothing for it but
to get into the water. It took most of my energy just getting out to
where the waves broke, I spent the majority of my time lying on the
board or scraping my stomach on rocks and coral beneath it and was
repeatedly slapped in the face and dragged under the waves. The few
seconds of adrenalin I had when I managed to stand on the board for
all of possibly 2 seconds, however, made it all worth while. What an
exhilarating and exhausting experience!
On our second morning, we once again
dragged our bodies out of bed, this time to go scuba diving. Memories
of struggling to clear my mask of water in Thailand came “flooding”
back to me (apologies, a cringeworthy pun) and I felt nervous on our
first descent. My ears hurt quite a bit too but I focused on my
breathing and tried to convince myself that what Anne had said on the
boat - “Diving is so relaxing, it's like doing yoga” - was true.
The sites (and sights) were fantastic – one to a shipwreck
(excluding the toilet, a fascinating dive) and another along a coral
reef. As thoughts other than whether my last breaths on earth would
be under water started to drift in and out of my mind, I knew that I
had at last managed to relax a little and could enjoy the incredible
fish and coral around us.
On our last afternoon, we rented bikes and got to see beyond the one street in Bocas at last.
We cycled to a beautiful beach, Playa Bluff, where we'd been told
that turtles lay their eggs. We weren't lucky enough to see the
turtles but did have a gorgeous stretch of sand all to ourselves and
witnessed the immense power of the ocean as enormous waves crashed
just metres in front of our toes. Moreover, the ride there and back
allowed us to see glimpses of everyday island life beyond the
backpacking strip which was a joy in itself – children playing
baseball, teenagers surfing on desolate beaches, a man cutting grass
using a machete, another man sorting through the island's rubbish
dump overwatched by vultures, women sweeping their dirt porches ...
those kind of scenes.
I find that I could always stay longer
where there are islands to be explored and sporting activities on
offer but four nights in Bocas had pushed my total length of stay in
Panama to ten which already exceeded what I had planned. It was time to leave, to say goodbye to Anne, Ernesto and
Julian and to figure out how to cross the border into Costa Rica.
