Seahorses, Spider Crabs and Lobsters........

I used to work for GM in Argentina, dealing with import and export regulations and protocols, says  Baltazhar my dive guide and underwater companion for the last 3 days. The money was good but spending my life in an office was not what I wanted to do, he says. Here in Bocas, every day is something special and new, the weather good or bad, the sea calm or turbulent, rainbows over the mountains, cool stuff under the sea, he enjoys everything in it's simplest sense. I can only agree, he has hit the nail on the head!

Bocas could be Koh Tao, Bocas could be the Perhentian islands, Bocas could be Gili Trawagan, it is any place we have been where we feel totally chilled out, removed from the claustrophobia of city life. Things move slowly here, if you are in a rush, go somewhere else, if you are happy to go with the flow then you will be fine here. Thomaso, the friendly Italian from Milano who owns the apartments where I am staying says that when building a house on the island, the house is finished when it's finished, not when want or say when it needs to be done, you have no real control. Just go with the flow.

The beaches are pleasant, the sea temperature is sublime and the air is warm and humid.

It seems that many people stop by here on a trip and end up staying forever. Walking through  the small town in the back streets you hear many people with non Panamian accents, Americans, Italians, Northern Europeans, Costa Ricans and a myriad other nations. Small home shops, basic accommodation, bike rentals and higgledy piggledy supermarkets are the order of the day here. There are a couple of flash looking hotels but they seem out of place and are empty. Backpacker and Flashpacker seem to be the visitors here.

Wandering off the beaten track I find the local hospital, very important obviously. However in true 3rd world style, on the left of the main entrance is the morgue, clearly signposted and marked. What makes sense next to a hospital and morgue? You guessed it, the cemetery! A one stop shop if you think about it.....

Let's go diving!

I had the pleasure of diving with an outfit called La Buga. What a great bunch of dive folk, very friendly, passionate about diving , the sea and their clients. Diving here is very simple, sites are close by and there is more than enough to see. I have always wondered where Lobsters go for holidays, well they come to Bocas. Spider Crabs join them too as we all know they need a break from crab related responsibilities. I have never seen such a healthy lobster and crab population anywhere else in my diving life. We even found a seahorse! A Devil Ray joined us on the first dive along with numerous stingrays, jacks and snappers. Tonight I'm doing a night dive so who know which denizens of the deep will be joining us.

 

Forrest and Baltazhar 

Diving here is still fairly low key which means that you the sites are not crowded and you can take your time. Every dive so far has been at least 1 hour, something which is a luxury in most dive destinations, no wetsuit required as the water is around 29c regardless of depth. Visibility is average but enough to work with. This is definitely a great place to learn how to dive and gain confidence as the conditions are superb.

Forrest in his natural habitat

Apologies to those non-divers among you, I just had to plug the diving a little...

Damn, I'm on a schedule so have to go and get ready for the night dive now. Luckily I have found the best Mohito maker on the island so post night dive celebratory cocktail will be waiting for when I return. Best of all? Happy hour price - $2.40!!

Cheers!

Hasta Luego Panama City

So after a pleasant introduction to life in Central America it's time to move on and start the trip properly. Panama City is a perfect way to get accustomed to the hustle and bustle, noise and heat of Central America. It seems to be a real melting pot of Latino cultures and during my short stay I met folk from Venezuela, from Columbia, Ecuador and Costa Rica. The economic meltdown in Venezuela has caused huge numbers of people to travel to Panama in search of work, many of them seem to be doing very well in the hospitality industries. Very friendly people and they seem the fluent in English too.

The canal was an amazing site to behold, especially when a huge ship squeezes it's way through the locks en route either to the Pacific or Caribbean. There are barely 3 feet spare on either side!

These huge ships are pulled along by small trains on either side at a walking pace. From what I can remember, I think that the canal can allow around 30 ships a day. Things get a bit tricky in the dry season as a huge amount of fresh water is required for the locks so when the lakes are low, they battle.

2016 is a big year for Panama as a 3rd set of locks have been completed which can handle ships almost twice the current limit. The grand opening happens tomorrow (Sunday) with huge celebrations taking place in the city and at the locks. I think that the country is heavily reliant on the canal income so the extra revenues from the larger ships will be a great boost for their economy. I think that there is also a huge amount of national pride involved as they need to prove that they don't need the USA to own and run the canal for them, they are capable of doing it themselves. I wish them well!

I would definitely recommend Panama City for a couple of days, no more than that unless you do day trips out from the city although you are then better off staying somewhere out of the city anyway. Rainy season does however make for some spectacular storms with torrential downpours, be prepared to get drenched! I made the well informed decision to leave my waterproof at home to save space, ho-hum, at least the rain is warm.....

Bocas Del Toro, here we come.

Hasta Pronto!

You gonna teach me Spanish in here????

So it seems that we are back to me and my strange expectations of 1st world norms in a 3rd world country. Why should I expect to be allowed off the subway train before 17 local Panamanian dudes barge their way into the carriage. Fortunately I'm a lot bigger than they are, Forrest - 1, 17 Panamian dudes - 0.

Why should I expect that the insane cab drivers will yield to pedestrians at a crossing zone? Cab - 1, Forrest - 0.

As much as possible I tend to eat where the locals eat. Now that I can fluently order Chicken, Rice and Beer in Spanish with no hesitation it makes financial sense to shun the overpriced tourist eating establishments. Whilst surreptitiously scoping out the locals and where they took lunch I happened upon a great little hole in the wall serving a variety of basic dishes. Me and my 1st world expectations again, enter hole in the wall, calmly order from the medley of available fare, pay and leisurely consume said meal accompanied with a fitting beverage....

Little did I know, part of the charm of this place was the fact that it was run by an insane Spanish/Chinese dude whose volume control was firmly lodged at 11. Walking through the door I was greeted with - "BUENOS DIAS", waves of sound reverberating off the walls and the other diners at their tables, all with wry smiles on their faces upon seeing me flinch at the wall of sound. "Pollo Asado y papas fritas y cerveza Atlas por favor" I mumble back at him. "SIETE" he screams back at me, my eardrums now starting to bleed as a result of the Motörhead sound levels being blasted at me. "Gracias" I mumble back , pay the 7 dollars and seek out the table furthest from him.

Day 2 and now I know what to expect from the crazy dude. "BUENOS DIAS" he yells at me. "BUENOS DIAS, POLLO ASADO Y PAPAS FRITAS" I scream back at him. "BUENO" he yells and smiles at me, I'm now one of the locals, job done, starting to integrate! I digress.....

Spanish school - Casco Antiguo Spanish School, just around the corner from where I'm staying. Great  posters in the hostel, great street signage, good directions, efficient e-mail reservation responses, all in all a top notch initial experience, obviously fueling my naïve 1st world expectations again. You simply can't make this stuff up, it's great. So off I head for my first day at school, good little boy with my notebook, notes from the lessons in Atlanta, pens and a clean shirt. I even shaved!!

Now if anyone has ever been to the site of "Tuol Sleng" genocide museum in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, you will get where I'm coming from. I follow the signs and get to this insanely dilapidated building with thick iron bars across the Windows, a huge double iron gate at what looks to be the entrance. No buzzer or visible way to get inside, graffiti strewn walls, some form of garden can be seen through the bars(medicinal herbs I would assume....), deathly quiet on a Saturday morning at 8:00am. The building looks like a deserted, severely haunted old institution of some sorts. Is THIS where I will be learning Spanish?

After hanging around for 10 minutes I get the hump and wander off to view the building from across the small bay. From a distance it looks just as bad as close up, as if it has been condemned to crumble into the sea at it's earliest convenience.

But wait, I see someone moving on a balcony! I head back and the large iron gate is open, I'm sure that the Spanish graffiti says something like "All ye who enter abandon hope" but I'm not sure, we haven't covered that section yet in the lessons. Heading inside I follow the signs to the school through graffiti plastered stairwells and corridors, stairs half broken, strange plants growing everywhere and a definite sense of gentle decay.

This place actually was a school and is now slated for demolition, it kind of makes sense when you think about it. A Spanish language school in an old school, regardless of the structural integrity or rather, lack thereof! Anyway, after creeping along like a naughty school kid late for his first day at school I finally find the converted classroom which is slated to be my cell, I mean classroom for 20 hours over the next week. What a great bunch of people, from the receptionist to the office manager to the strict teacher who refuses to speak ANY English to me, wonderfully friendly, happy and open. Yes, they agree the building is old, yes they know it will be demolished, no we won't be inside when it all comes down.

After 4 hours of fun I head out only to find the gate locked, oh boy, here we go! As the Eagles say, "You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave...". A very large man shuffles out of nowhere, wearing nothing but a stained white vest and tatty old trousers, gives me a toothless grin, slides a little lever and I'm free!

I can't wait to do it all again today......

Hasta Pronto!

Singapore's poorer cousin

People say that generally first impressions are the ones that count. I tend to be guilty of forming an impression of someone or something quite quickly. Sometimes that impression changes due to further investigation or increased familiarity but generally it remains relatively unaltered.

Whilst barreling along with Super Mario en route to Casco Viejo in his stealth-mobile I started thinking that Panama City has certain similarities to Singapore. Both derive a large income from trade and shipping, both have a banking element and both seem to be in a state of regeneration and development. I would also consider both centers as great entry points for regional travel, Singapore for South East Asia and Panama City for Central America. They both kind of ease you into the regional nuances that you can expect.

They have similar skylines. When viewed from afar, Panama City could be Singapore, Hong Kong or possibly even Shanghai. However when you get close up and personal you very quickly notice that Panama City is very much a work in progress, undergoing rapid expansion and modernization. There is a metro with more lines to come. Casco Viejo, a Unesco heritage site is being completely restored and rebuilt (a situation that not all the locals agree with from what I've been told). The slum areas that the guide book warns you about seem to be undergoing modernization.

Peering through some of the open doors and windows of the buildings here in Casco Viejo it becomes apparent that many people here still live in poverty. Dilapidated wooden structures house entire families, seemingly with no proper sanitation or actual Windows, yet next door is an upmarket gourmet coffee shop of ice cream parlor. Happily the big American coffee and burger chains have not colonized Casco Viejo the way they have the rest of the city but I guess it's just a matter of time....

Restored Building

Casco Viejo is a great area to be based in and there is more than enough to keep a person occupied, even when they are not being force-fed Spanish grammar lessons by a super efficient Spanish teacher who refuses to converse in English whatsoever(a subject for another day). There is a reggae festival on in the broken down building across from the hostel tonight, probably a fitting venue for some great 'Rasta Vibe', totally atmospheric. This same building is alongside a 17th century church that contains the 'Golden Altar' that local legend tells a story about how a priest hid the alter from a pirate called Henry Morgan, way back in the days of pirates sacking entire towns. Check out the story, it's quite interesting.

Add caption

Me, I'm off to don my Bob Marley wig and get my Reggae groove going. Rasta man vibration, positive....

Headlights are optional!

Man I love arriving in third world countries, especially those on or nearer the equator. The smells, the noise, the incessant buzz of construction, the vast array of dilapidated building or those with the tenuous label of 'Work in progress'. Anyone who has travelled Asia will know what I mean.

Even in a relatively progressive and cosmopolitan location like Panama City we still find a small culture shock, more like a culture nudge I guess. Things that we take for granted in our well managed 1st world lives are generally not the norm outside of our safe existence. Un-Concealed electrical cables, open cables in a bathroom, gaping holes in the sidewalk designed to swallow up unsuspecting visitors - all parts of everyday life here.

Take headlights on a vehicle for example, pretty standard these days across the world. We even use them in daylight hours for that 'Extra' bit of security(not that a switched on headlight ever stopped a 10 ton truck from running over you). However here in Panama they are more of an 'optional extra' depending on who you travel with!

Enter "Super Mario", cab driver of choice for my digs here in Panama City. Great sign with my name on it at the airport, held by a rotund, disheveled, gentle faced transportation expert, my man - Super Mario. Super Mario's cab has seen better days, it is yellow but not as yellow as it used to be. It has 4 doors and a boot but only the front 2 doors open. It has air con but the engine is so badly messed up he can't run the air con as it causes the car to stall when at stop streets. No worries, fresh air is better anyway.

Fired up and ready to go with a belch of smoke and the sound of an engine about to implode on itself we lurch out of the parking lot. It's a strange sensation sitting in a moving vehicle at 11pm traveling at what feels like 70 miles an hour with no illumination whatsoever, either inside or outside the vehicle. A bit like traveling through a vacuum with your eyes closed...

So, now barreling down the motorway in relative darkness(Super Mario uses the 2 foot following distance method to overcome his vehicles lack of external illumination) I notice that further ahead there is a toll plaza for the highway. Silly me, thinking in a staid old 1st world way that we would slow down, carefully approach the narrow, concrete barrier lined toll lane, pay a nominal fee and be on our merry way, fool I am.

Super Mario peals out from behind our source of illumination, chooses an open toll lane, lowers his speed to what must have been a mere 60miles an hour, lines the cab up for the lane and then takes his hands off the steering wheel! Fortunately I'm not a nervous passenger(if it's your ,time, it's your time) but at this stage I must admit that I was contemplating my own mortality! Our kamikaze cab driver now starts waving his hands as if casting a spell on the toll boom, chanting something in Spanish all the while with a big grin on his face. Needless to say, 2 seconds from impact and certain doom the boom swings up, Super Mario grabs the steering wheel and we are through. The joys of RFID chips in vehicles....

Once through we find another source of illumination and continue our high speed dash for the city center. When we get to the second toll booth, Forrest is all nonchalant and even joins in with the whole 'let go of the steering wheel and cast a spell on the boom' process! 20 minutes later I am safely deposited at my chosen destination by a happy and adequately reimbursed cab driver.

Last I saw of him, a cloud of engine smoke engulfed his darkened vehicle as he drove off. Maybe he operates in stealth mode. Happy travels Super Mario.....

To Upgrade or not to Upgrade, that is the question...

So one decides to celebrate the upcoming jaunt by having an extremely pleasant dinner with the significant other, replete with white wine to match said dinner. Post meal the single malt whiskey's at the strategically located bar beckon.

Now anyone who knows us should already be aware of our fondness for a decent dram. The interesting thing about drinks measures here in the States, especially from what I have seen thus far is that they tend to vary in size from ample to 'Bloody Hell!' depending on the current disposition of the person operating behind the bar. Needless to say, the man last night was in a more than jovial mood!.

Upon returning home in a somewhat lightly inebriated state it became immediately apparent that more single malt was required whilst I attended to the complicated task of checking in online. Another random fact about 50 year old whiskey, it is VERY strong having had ample time to do its thing. As we fully endorse the American drinks measure approach we apply the same standards in our household.

So now suitably fortified with exceptional spirit I attend to the checking in process. Diligently I plough my way through the screens whilst enjoying a whiskey buzz. On the very last screen after having selected my seat, ignored the pleas to provide clean water and clothes for every 3rd world country, correctly entered my passport details (double checked as we all know that whiskey affects our eye sight) the dreaded sales ploy of "Would you like to upgrade for a nominal fee." appears on the screen.

Funny how the mouse always seems to gain a mind of it's own when you least expect it....

Needless to say I am now enjoying the hospitality provided by the first class lounge and when I board the plane I get to turn left instead of right!

Oh barman, another measure of single malt please.