We've all had friends who seem to be on their own time; the kind of friend that insists they'll be at your door at 7pm to pick you up for dinner, then arrives an hour late without an excuse. Frustrating, yet endearing I guess? We had no choice but to adopt this type of mindset as we stood waiting for the 5am bus out of Uvita to begin a long day of travel into Panama. Just to be safe we got to the bus stop early, pushed some stones around by the side of the road for a bit, fit some reading in, and just as we began to worry we had been stood up the bus appeared in the distance and off we were! One bus transfer landed us in Paso Canoas, eager to make our first border crossing and kiss Costa Rica a fond farewell. It cost us a mere $1 US to cross the Panamanian border…stamp, stamp and we were in.
The bus to Panama City was practically waiting for us as we wandered into our next country - a luxury liner with air conditioning and reclining seats. Hot and tired per usual we slumped into seats near the front and closed our eyes, hoping to catch a wink or two on what was to be a 6-7 hour ride. The engined roared on and moments later so did the stereo system directly above us. "Sus ojos, sus labios, me encantaaaaa," sentiments that draw a cliche tear in any language leaked out of the speakers, initially at a normal volume. As our speed and distance increased so did the magnitude of the sound until the struggle to carry on a conversation began to match the emotional battle expressed in the concert of power ballads that persisted for the length of the bus trip. It was so powerfully loud that we couldn't read, couldn't even sleep!
Upon arrival in Panama City, we headed straight for the taxi drivers and sleepily selected the first driver who approached us. Countless clues suggested our decision may have been hasty - his car was dented and missing windows, and had to be hot-wired in order to get the engine purring. His eyes resembled a waning crescent moon, leading us to believe either his exhaustion mirrored our own or he had just finished puffing on some fine Panamanian green. At least he knew the direction to Casco Viejo and we pulled up in front of our hostel, Luna's Castle, within minutes.
Casco Viejo is the second oldest section of Panama City, built and settled during the 17th century after the sacking of Panama Viejo by the nefarious pirate Captain Henry Morgan. Little remains of the oldest section of the city; other than a church tower the ruins are essentially piles of rubble. Casco Viejo is quite dilapidated as well, comprised largely of shells of formerly grand structures. Paint chips off the facades and vegetation grows where there once were walls, stairs, and floors. The area has seen a resurgence in development as of recently, and you can now find cafes and bistros tucked unassumingly between blocks of crumbling buildings. Next to Casco Viejo stand the sky-scrapers and commercial office buildings that give the City it's metropolitan edge, but it is far from cosmopolitan. Most of the buildings are either under construction or unoccupied. At night from our hostel the 'city' was visible from across the water, but instead of bright lights and action mostly what we observed were dark, empty high-rises.
Panama uses the US dollar as its currency, a remnant of the American presence in the country beginning the early 20th century with the takeover of the Panama Canal project from a bankrupt French company. Visiting the canal was our only lofty expenditure, including a taxi fares and entrance fee. The boat that passed through the Miraflores Locks during our visit was a freighter whose width approached the maximum limit, 107 ft to squeeze through the 110 ft canal allowing for only a 1.5 ft on each side. Over the course of an hour we watched pulleys guide the boat into the lock, then the boat sink and advance through the passage - a somewhat anticlimactic experience outside of marveling at the length of the boat itself which we thought might never end. Fortunately for us it was the best show of the day. How can you visit Panama without admiring the canal?
Otherwise, everything else in Panama is cheap. To avoid taxi fares, you can hop on a wildly decorated and spray-paint-decaled school bus called a "diablo roja" which will take you from one side of the city to the other for 25¢. For $3-4 we sampled a several dishes, including a variety of sandwiches, platos tipicos, grilled meats and vegetable kabobs from street vendors. A double scoop ice cream cone or a large cup of ice-cold coconut water set us back only fifty cents each. At the mercado del mariscos, the local fish market, a five minute walk down the water, fish dishes were available for as little as $2. Local fishermen clamored dockside unloading their fresh catch of the day from vessels painted a variety of colors, the most basic of which echoed Hemingway's Old Man and the Sea for us. Inside the market we sampled a verity of different ceviches, ranging from corvina to camarones to the especially delicious combination cup (replete with octopus, squid, conch, among others).
One of our favorite eateries was Cafe Coca-Cola. The restaurant was a relic of the 1930's or 40's and frequented by Panamanian old timers in polyester pants and short sleeve button-downs who didn't take their hats off while they ate their food. These men had their shoes polished in a shaded square just across from Coca-Cola, and seemed never to perspire in their mellow daze. Everyone else in Panama carried handkerchiefs and hand towels on their person to blot at the beads that continuously formed along their brow. The temperature never dropped below 95 degrees during our entire stay, and we figured when the locals are sweating it really must be hot. Before we could turn into puddles of our former selves we changed the course of our trip entirely by booking plane tickets to temperate Buenos Aires, Argentina instead of continuing onto Columbia. We need a break from the heat!
