WanderingWhy…

After spending nearly a month resting and getting fat with my old college roommate Jose, it was time to move on. It seems we spent the last few days at Jose’s cramming in Panama. I spent one night camping out on the beach in the open under millions of stars, another day hiking the “Sendero Los Quetzals” and the final day teaching them how to make lasagna. I think they found lasagna quite exotic after the Panamanian diet of beans, rice, chicken, and repeat (I never tire of it though). Jose, Ingrid, and the entire extended family treated us with such kindness and hospitality it’s almost embarrassing how we don’t even come close in the states.

So, we said our goodbyes and Dawn got a little misty eyed as we boarded a bus and made the 8 hour trip across the country to Panama City. After getting ripped off by the cab driver for nearly double the fare, we arrived at our hotel to find that even though we had a reservation, they had no room. Isn’t that the reason for a reservation? “We have a room for you at the hotel around the corner, it’s the same” We’ve been through this bait and switch bullshit before. Dawn asked about the room and the reservation and was ignored with the reply “Don’t worry it’s the same price” Um… you are not reassuring us by putting us in a hovel for the same rate. Our fears were unfounded though, as this hotel really was an upgrade for the same rate. Nice to win out for a change.

We really only had one full day to take in the city, so up early and hail a cab for the big attraction: The Panama Canal. We bartered with the cabbie only to learn later we had again paid nearly double the rate. What is it with cab drivers wherever you go? I’ve made a vow from now on to find the price beforehand and tell them what it is. Again, my own stupid fault for not educating myself–Aggravating. Anyhow, the new Miraflores visitor’s center is quite a change from what I saw 8 years ago—really informative and great views of the locks. They even invited Dawn aboard to guide a cargo ship—this is the last known picture of her:

The canal really is one of the world’s greatest engineering feats. After exploring the visitor’s center and watching a couple of ships pass through the locks, we were dropped off in the Casco Viejo district of the city.

The guidebook warned this area is not the safest at night and heading in I was starting to wonder if it was any safer during the day. Watching the news each day with Jose for the last few weeks there were reports of murders every single day in Panama City. Most of these crimes are related to the spike in drug traffic coming from countries further south. I thought it strange to hear from one of Jose’s brothers he thought Noriega was a ‘leader of peace.’ When I questioned why he felt this way he explained that when Noriega was in power there were never the crimes and murders there are now. I found this to be an interesting perspective on dictatorship.

Anyhow, Casco Viejo turned out to be my absolute favorite area of Panama City. This area of the city is right in the middle of a “revival” and there are hundreds of dilapidated buildings standing next to newly renovated ones. I love old colonial buildings with balconies. Around every cobblestone street corner I turned it was hard not the let the camera rip and photograph the tremendous architecture of this area. I wish my pictures could do it justice but take a look at them anyway if you have a chance.

We decided to walk the length of “Via Espana” back to our hotel. This road runs right though the heart of the city. I love strolling cities and getting the vibe of the area. We stopped at the Coca Cola Cafe for a lunch of bland food. However, the people watching more than made up for it as the locals enjoyed their lunch hour and stayed glued to the lottery on TV in the hopes that maybe they would not have to return to work.

After lunch we walked through the traffic-free shopping area and onto the sidewalk past stalls selling every trinket you don’t need. Then it started to rain–hard. The next two hours were on and off showers and not the greatest wandering conditions. Finally the rain let up and we were getting closer to home.

In the middle of one of the heaviest commercial shopping areas Dawn’s bionic sweet detecting eyeballs spot an Italian Gelato shop across 5 lanes of traffic. There is an unwritten travel rule we have that if Italian ice cream is spotted we must stop and sample the cuisine. If you have never been outside the USA you have never had real ice-cream–period. Italy is not known for pizza and pasta (although they do this damn well too)–it’s known for ice cream and coffee. Sometimes this is replicated in other countries but for some reason not in the US (I think it may have something to do with pasteurization laws). Anyhow, this Gelatoria I thought was okay, Dawn though more highly of it since she ate her ice cream and finished mine. Fine by me because she was going to skip dinner and now I could order the steak.

Bellies (mine has grown some in the last few weeks with Ingrid’s amazing cooking) full of gelato we walked the final stretch to our hotel. Along the way I noticed the inter-city buses. Nothing special mechanically, just the same old US school buses still running strong down here in Latin America, but the artwork on some of these buses is really creative. I could spend some time photographing these wild rolling walls of graffiti but it was hard to overcome the stupid gringo tourist feeling as all the locals stuck in traffic snickered at me taking pictures. Anyhow, here are a couple:

Back at the hotel, I jumped in the pool (yes, pool in the middle of the city) and soaked the aching hiking legs. We crammed it in but saw quite a bit of the city. I’d like to linger a little longer but Ecuador and the rest of South America await.

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