Late last May, we finally crossed the border into our tenth country this trip, Panama.
Cue up
Panama by Van Halen, and strap in. (No, the song has nothing to do with the country, but it is a fun one to listen to while driving the crazy Panamanian roads circling the city over the ocean.)
But before we get there....
Sloth Call-back. Because you (or at least I) can never see too many
Before crossing the border, we stopped by a finca near the border and joined a sloth-seeking tour with a British couple. The man was in a Hawaiian shirt, the woman in white capris, and both had been staying at the Hilton as part of a tour.
Sloths are really tough to spot, I soon learned. But our guide knew where they had been in the morning, and because they don't move fast, he usually doesn't have to look too far or too long to spot them.
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| Sloth spying |
Owing to some fantastic luck, though, we managed to stand right beside a sloth that had crawled down to eye level on a nearby tree.
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| Here he is! |
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| This is how close I got. |
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| With the zoom. Honestly, he's almost as cute as Jessica. |
We also saw snakes, owls, sleeping bats, and a flock of different birds.
The tour for the most part was relatively incident free. Until we stopped to look at this owl below, tucked into a palm.
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| Owl |
While we were peering at the Owl, we noticed that the English couple had fallen behind. We waited awhile, then the husband emerged from behind a palm.
His white-pant wearing wife had had a bad tummy that morning, he explained, and suddenly "it had all let loose". Not knowing what to do, I gave him my water bottle, but it was not quite enough, and so we all hovered in the palm grove, making small talk until the finca's Jeep arrived with fresh water.
Water delivered, our guide suggested we give the couple privacy while they waited for their ride back. Then he proceeded to lead us right past the poor, pants-less woman on the ground. All credit to her, and her British stiff upper lip, because she managed to bid us a cheerful farewell, all while trying to conceal her soiled privates under her husband's sweater.
The lesson in all this? Avoid the Hilton buffet in Costa Rico at all costs.
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| Local saint revered at the finca |
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| Making cane juice with our guide |
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| Our post-tour snack, fruit and empanadas. Two types of pineapple, one yellow and another white. |
Exit to Panama via the Buffet. Because it can never be easy.
Like all the many other borders we have tackled this trip, getting out one country is as hard as getting into the other.
Leaving the Costa Rican border, it took us forever to find where to pay the exit fee. The official site ended up being right by the buffet, of course. Not the Hilton buffet, at least, but I wouldn't suggest eating here either.
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| The sign you see blaring "exit tax", by the way, is facing into Panama, which means those actually heading to Panama from Costa Rica can't see it until they've passed it. |
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| The Panama border |
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| Where to eat your $5 meals - at the Fonda's! |
El Valle. Because it can never get too steep.
Our first stop in Panama was
El Valle, one of the 10th coolest vacation location according to National Geographic 2024. And the town
is pretty cool, being in the caldera of an extinct volcano so that all around you, wherever you happen to be, you are being hugged by steep cliffs of the caldera edges. Truly stunning.
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| Ivan watching the rain pouring down |
We stayed in a field at a local hostel with a pool that was run by a 90-year-old named Bob. Bob had an interesting life and decided to sit down by our camper and tell us everything.
And I mean everything.
Bob had an accident when he was 75 or so where he completely lost his memory. Didn't even remember his wife, or anything before the accident. Nor his children. But turned out he rather liked his wife, said he was pleasantly surprised at her looks, and decided to stay with her, which was helpful because he couldn't remember a damn thing, not even what he owned (which isn't something a wife forgets).
So when Bob's wife said she was happiest in Panama, they decided to return to their Panama holdings, which were now being operated by their alcoholic son, who soon died of his alcoholism (likely compounded with the consequences of some other bad decisions). Let's put it this way: the wifi is called "washer1" and "washer2". I'll let you take from that what you will.
Though the son was only 40-odd years old at his death, he left in his wake a girlfriend and a gold-digging ex-wife with two daughters and Columbian connections - all coming after his property. What ensued was
Succession-worthy. I'll spare you the details, though maybe I'll get around to writing Bob's story one day. Someone really should.
In the end, the crafty old (if memory-less) dodger got to keep the property himself and he continues to work it every day, even at his age, and is already planning expanding into constructing six self-contained units. If you're looking to retire, this is the land of the golden visa...
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| El Valle forests |
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| View to the mountains beyond |
Because of all the mountains around, there are countless hikes we could have taken, but we decided to tackle
Cerro Cara Iguana, an 8-km, relatively rough trail that reaches an overlook of the valley.
The first 4 km or so are along the road in an area called "Milliones" street - Millionaires Row. There were some beautiful properties along here and the road was pristine, with freshly painted yellow dividers.
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| One of the houses in Milliones street |
But then you hit the national park, and it was thin, winding, ascending trails with grass that cut your legs all the way to the Cerro Iguana.
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| Hiking to the tip of the Iguana's head |
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| Look at that sweat - it was a hot day |
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| Ivan and I with the valley behind us |
El Valle Amphibian Conservation Centre. Because it's never too late to bring back the golden frog
Near El Valle is a conservation centre tucked behind a local hotel that has one of the few living examples of their famous
Panamanian golden frogs - seen by many as the emblem of the nation, and also the name of a local brewer.
The conservation area was inside a converted shipping container and included several terrariums where you could play spot the frog. Some were almost impossible to see, like the glass frogs, but others were beautiful and bright.
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The hotel where the conservation area is housed. Look at that view.
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Panama City. Because I can never be scammed too many times.
Coming into Panama city was a crazy experience. Ocean all around, spotted with giant ships all hovering near the canal entrance, waiting for their scheduled crossing, or to bid for an earlier one. (The canal now has a system where shipping companies can bid for a certain number of spots, and the latest highest bid was $4Million.)
To get to our AirBnB, we rode the three-lane highway that arcs right out into the ocean, circling the city full of massive towers and Spanish colonial church steeples.
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| One of the shipping yards coming into Panama City. |
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| The view of the new Panama from the ring road that encircles Casco Veijo. |
We stayed in Casco Veijo, the city that replaced the one destroyed by pirates, including the Welsh Henry Morgan, in 1673. It's all old streets and restored colonial buildings full of boutiques and rooftop patios offering stunning sunset views - and scam artists. A few were just "tour guides" offering advice for the price of a cup of coffee, but others were elaborate scams, including one I got sucked into that involved a "free" stem cell facial. Do not go there ladies.
The view from our Air BnB window out into the ocean
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| Our hotel / Air BnB |
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| View from our rooftop terrazzo, complete with pool. |
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| Street view |
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| One of Panama's "Red Devils" |
The best part of Panama City is the food. First on the agenda: a taste of the famous Geisha coffee.
Originally from Ecuador, the geisha strain of coffee grows best here in the Panama rainforests and hills. It's almost like drinking a coffee tea rather than a brewed tea. The taste is floral, gently tannic, and is now Ivan's favourite coffee ever. Worth every American penny.
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| Ivan drinking his first Geisha coffee. |
Then there was the food. We ate at a few places not worth mentioning, but the best by far was a fusion Panamanian restaurant called
Fondo Lo Que Hay (rough translation: the "what we have" diner). And what they have is genius. If you are ever in this city, this place is one not to miss.
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| Smoked salmon on the thinnest tortilla you've ever eaten |
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| "sexy clams" |
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| Pork sandwich on a brioche bun I still dream about |
Panama Canal. Because you can never really go too big.
Since we came all this way, we of course had to see the canal and decided on the full
"ocean-to-ocean" day tour to tackle three of the main tourist sites.
First up, boat ride to the Monkey Islands. These islands are really the tops of the hills that remain above surface after the extensive flooding that occurred to create the
Gatun Lake that feeds into the Panama Canal. Several wild monkeys were stranded here at the time - hence the name Monkey Islands.
The place is full of wildlife, a real mecca for fans of Sir David Attenborough.
(Fun fact: While the centenarian (whom I adore) has never filmed in Monkey Island, his research here supported the identification of the fungi that was killing the golden frog, and he was a big supporter of the El Valle conservation site we visited earlier in the post.)
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| On the boat on Gatun Lake |
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| Crocodile |
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| Croc in close-up |
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| And of course, my sweet, sweet sloth. |
Back on shore, we drove to the canal, spotting that slothy beauty you see in the photo above just beside the highway.
At the locks, we had a great view of the newly built locks from the
Panama Canal Expansion Project, with a distant view of the old ones, and watched the tugboats bring a huge LPG tanker through.
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| At the locks |
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| Tugboat leading the LPG ship through |
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| View of the locks. The pools behind are the reservoirs that support the gravity-fed system. |
After the locks, we stopped for Panamanian chicken, rice, beans and salad and then headed to
Fort San Lorenzo, one of the oldest forts in the Americas. But not necessarily the best fort, since it's the one the pirates overtook before making their way in to destroy the old Panama City.
Birthday at the Mangaleres. Because you can't hear Leonard Cohen's Halleluiah too many times.
After the canal it was time to turn around and start heading home. But before we left Panama, we decided to stop by a tiny coastal town near the Mangaleres.
We stopped for groceries in the middle of a deluge - it was an eye opening experience, particularly the meat stand where there was no refrigeration, no plastic wrap, and no way to avoid the smell of chicken blood.
We decided on lentil soup for dinner made with the three vegetables we could identify. This set the local girls, who were dressed in the traditional
brightly-coloured nagua dresses of the Ngäbe-Buglé, to giggling at our confusion as we tried to figure out where we had to go to weigh our squashes (which turned out to be the butchery window, unfortunately).
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| Finca carving |
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| Kayaking the mangroves |
We spent a few nights at a nearby finca. The owner showed us all the edibles - and there were many - as we set up under a tree. Mangos, avocados, herbs, a brain-like fruit called an
aki, a herb that tasted like sugar, and more. The best part for me, though, was that the
ylang-ylang was in bloom and everything smelled of perfume.
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| Crossing the rapids at low tide |
At the finca we ran into a few other travelers: one couple from Quebec and another from France. Since it was my birthday, Ivan and I went for a kayak (only barely making it back to shore when the tides changed). Then everyone got together and the host cooked us a beautiful dinner then sang to us in Spanish. As a special number, he sang me
Leonard Cohen's Halleluiah.
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| Birthday dinner |
Boquete. Because you can't get enough Panamanian mountains.
Before crossing the border back to Costa Rica, we stopped by another mountain town,
Boquete. This is where the majority of expats live; it's where the geisha coffee grows and locals sell illegal orchids to Americans cheap.
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| Local Boquete coffee bar |
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| Get your guns and gear here |
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| Just a sample of local art |
And of course, being in yet another mountain town meant there was a mountain to climb.
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| View of Boquete from the high road |
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| One of sooo many streams and waterfalls. It is the rainforest! |
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| Snake in the road. I thought it was a deadly coral, but was simply a harmless copy-cat. |
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| Moon flowers |
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| Kind of catches the vibe of Boquete, really |
OCEN Naso Community at Bocos Del Toro. Because you can never have enough salad bowls.
Last stop in Panama was at an Indigenous community near the border called
OCEN. The site is completely off grid, operated by solar (not great during the rainy season). The campground operator, Raoul, offers hikes in the mountains and other fun activities while you try to entertain yourself in the rains without internet or electricity.
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| Our campsite beside Raoul's family kitchen |
When we arrived, it was a torrential downpour, so there was no hiking. And we'd bought too much food to take advantage of their offer for dinner. So when I pointed out a giant gourd, Raoul suggested we carve ourselves some bowls. And that's what we did.
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| Scraping out gourds. |
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| Raoul showing Ivan's bowl |
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| And here's mine! |
We'd hoped to take Raoul up on his offer for a jungle hike the next day, but had started to worry about our draining battery and - worse - the strange sound Vanny Bo Vanny was making every time we tried to break. So it was into Costa Rica for a quick repair - or so we thought.
More on how that turned out next time...
Take care, and hope to see you soon!
