Where are the wizards?

We headed down the mountain away from Lost and Found, where we had done a lot more losing than finding, to arrive at Bocas del Toro.  A series of islands in the Caribbean, with sparkling turquoise water and a host of beaches to choose from.  We did a tour and no matter the tour there are two compulsory stops. Dolphin bay, where we saw dolphins surrounded by a dozen small boats as if on safari in the Ngorongoro crater.  Then finally our own moment as a dolphin played in the wake of our boat, choosing to be with us.  We went to Sloth island, where we saw sloths high up in the trees above us.  The areas were creatively named as you can see.  Our actual destination, one of the outlying island, was a hint of paradise.  Rainforest, beaches and clear water the perfect temperature - just cool enough to be refreshing, but warm enough you could stay in for hours.  

One of the bizarre things about Bocas del Toro is how neatly wildlife seems to stick to certain areas.  There is dolphin bay, and sloth island as already mentioned.  There is also starfish beach, with starfish everywhere, yet when we went snorkelling 100m around the corner to try and avoid the crowds not a starfish to be seen.  Due to this accurate naming of locations we made the decision to avoid sandfly beach.  I get bitten frequently enough as it is!  I’m looking forward to going to wizard beach though... do wizards grant wishes?

It was the best of days. It was the worst of days.

It started poorly.  The wind had been gusting throughout the night, at times making us question whether we were about to fly into the air like Dorothy.  Then in the morning as Jason opened the door a wind gust caught it and ripped it off it’s hinges, breaking parts of the door off in the process.  Being in the jungle, spare doors aren’t easy to come by so a rudimentary repair was attempted, but did not appear to be successful.  Fortunately there had been a no show the night before and we were able to move rooms.  However feeling slightly grumpy and out of sorts we hightailed it out of there to head to the river canyon.  We had decided the night before not to take valuables, and therefore planned to leave the camera bag at the hostel.  If we’d been thinking right and not so preoccupied with flying doors we would have proceeded in our normal swimming excursion process of only taking a small amount of money for the bus, and that’s it.  We didn’t.  We took Jason’s wallet with credit cards and my phone.

The canyon itself was lovely, the river having calved a way through the rock, leaving vertical sides around 5-6m high.  There were a lot of people about so we chose a shady spot near where we planned to enter the river, allowing us to keep an eye on our bag.  We braved the first jump, and the water was the perfect temperature, refreshing without being cold.  Then we saw a group of guys hanging around the highest point in the canyon, and diving in from there.  After finding our way to the top and jumping in a couple of times, we watched one of the guys climb up the vertical side of the canyon. It wasn’t long before Ivan was teaching us the routes up the side and encouraging us.  At one point Jason was clinging on desperately with all 4 limbs whilst Ivan somehow had hold of the rocks with just his feet, leaning his body horizontally so he could use both hands to show Jason where to grip.  It was amazing, one of those travel experiences you can’t plan.  It was a perfect day, probably the best of the trip so far.  

Then I went to check the time, only to find my phone was gone.  The best day, became the worst day.  We berated ourselves for letting our normal vigilance slip, for not thinking better about what to take with us.  Luckily Jason’s wallet was still there.  The thief must have seen me take a photo and then put the phone away, because it was in a hidden pocket inside the backpack and nothing else had been touched.

Our new friends called the police for us, and when they arrived explained what had happened as the officer didn’t speak English.  We were then escorted by the policeman on his motorbike to the nearest town where he took us to an internet cafe so that we could try and locate the phone using find my phone.  He explained the issue, and we were given free use of the computers.  It was offline unsurprisingly, so instead we set it to erase the contents of the phone.  We then went to the police station and were escorted to another building so that we could get a written statement for insurance.  I’m not sure that we’ll be covered, but without the report there’s no possibility.  We’ve still lost the photos, and perhaps worse the functionality of the phone.  It has been invaluable as a keeper of accommodation bookings, Spanish translations, maps that not only show the area, but show where we are within the area and, of course, music.

As strange as it is, today has been the best day of the trip, and the worst day of the trip.  We're trying hard to not let the worst overshadow the best.

I was lost, but I was found.

Actually whilst staying at the Lost and Found Jungle Lodge, we didn’t get lost once.  They did mark the trails very clearly, which is probably why.  They also left little bits of encouragement, like “Yay!  You’re half way up the hill.”  At which point we both collapsed from exhaustion as we had thought we were nearly to the top of the hill.  The first climb really wasn’t that far, but the hostel is in the jungle, which means the only way to get there is to climb a narrow trail directly up the side of a mountain with all of your things.  Due to the distance from civilisation the small range of food they sell is twice the usual price and fruit and veg non-existent.  For this reason we had stocked up with enough food to last the three days and were trying to juggle a bunch of vegetables as well as everything else.  

The next climb was a lot further.  The hostel has set up a treasure hunt, with clues that you follow amazing race style.  Some were obvious, others not so much, and not knowing the Spanish word for cockroach really slowed us down.  The map of the surrounding area that you have to follow is not to scale in anyway.  So what looked not that far, was a continuous uphill slog that never seemed to end. Then just as we crested the hill, we had to turn out towards the lookout (given the first clue was Look Out! we figured it was a good bet).  Which involved more uphill, and more uphill.  Cursing our poor fitness for hours of stair climbing, we lost our breath completely as the lookout came into view.  It was completely obscured with trees and then a step later we could see for miles and miles!  It was worth the climb.  As we were heading back down we met another group who asked us in-between panted breaths how much further it was.  Just a few steps we told them, and it’s worth it.  Seconds later we heard “Awesome!  Amazing!” and smiled, because we knew that right then the pain of the hike was forgotten, replaced with awe at the world laid out below.

We continued the trek, now heading down the other side of the mountain towards the river.  Each steep hill we descended filling us with a small amount of dread because we knew we would have to go back up at the end.  We spent a long time at Tree Beard, a massive tree which we turned into our private playground, climbing up roots, and climbing up the inside of the tree.   Eventually we reached the river, which we crisscrossed clambering our way over rocks, and wishing we had brought our swimmers.  Although the water was so cold we wouldn’t have stayed in long.  Just before the end of the hunt there was a river crossing that we couldn’t get across without getting wet.  But the cold water was heaven on our sore feet.  The final clue in hand, we headed back to the hostel arriving almost 6 hours after we left and promptly forgot that the treasure hunt wasn’t quite finished.  It wasn’t until the next day when we were hiding from the weather that we actually found the last two clues and figured out the answer.  The reward, if you gave the answer to the right person, was a drink at the bar, the type of drink selected by the roll of a dice.

One of the unexpected highlights came in the form of chocolate.  Not even good chocolate, a Twix bar to be precise.  Panama has wonderfully cheap fresh vegetables, so we’ve been cooking most of the time and enjoying a junk food free lifestyle.  But after a wet blustery day I was craving chocolate, and seeing the obvious desperation in my eyes Jason fulfilled his wedding vow (which was to keep the fridge stocked with chocolate) and bought a bar for us to share.  The bliss!  The joy!  Best Twix I’ve ever eaten.

Slow buses, and fast zip lines

After today I consider myself an expert on Panamanian buses, although despite traveling over 420km on 5 different buses I am yet to experience the rather nice looking coaches.  So maybe it would be more accurate to say I am an expert on the minibus system of Panama.  In the less populated areas buses are all stops, literally.  You stand by the road and put your hand out, and the bus will stop.  Someone 100m down the road will do the same thing.  The drivers (and whatever name you give to the guy who looks for passengers and takes your money) are incredibly helpful and when they think you’re getting close to your destination check exactly which hostel you’re staying at so they drop you right where you need to be.  When they knew we were changing buses they stopped directly beside the bus we needed, and made sure we got on to it.  Once you get on the highway, they become slightly more stop bound, although it doesn’t take much for them to throw in an extra stop or two if required.  In general we have found everyone very helpful, to the point of walking us around 300m to the next bus we needed, whilst carrying my bag, and then wishing us a good day without asking for money.  

Our first big splurge was in Boquete - ziplining through the cloud forest.  We were taken in a converted truck up the mountain to approximately 6000 feet.  However the truck didn’t really have the power to get up the steep, bumpy road.  We did debate whether we should all get out and push, but thought that might have been rude.  Having jiggled our way to the top we were harnessed up and briefed on safety.  There were 12 ropes in total, which were up to 500m in length.  We had to use one hand as a guide to keep us facing the right way, and if necessary to provide the brakes (by tightening our grip on the cable).  Some ropes were ‘no brakes’, unless you’re coming in to the platform too fast and they frantically start gesturing at you to brake (guess who that happened to?).  Others were at a steeper angle, and most definitely needed braking to prevent you injuring the guide who was there to steer you in.  It was a very slick operation, and we had completed four ropes in quick succession before Jason and I managed to overlap at a platform.  The views were absolutely sublime, as we crisscrossed over a gorge, with a river flowing beneath us.  The 500m rope was one of the best though in terms of speed.  Reportedly you can reach almost 100km per hour depending on weight, although I am vaguely dubious about this claim.  It felt fast, but not that fast!   

So, we got lost

El Valle is built in the centre of a (long extinct) volcano crater which makes for a pretty spectacular setting, the perfect spot for hiking and exploring.  So we got lost.  Not really a surprise, given we went hiking in a remote area of a foreign country. It started when we tried to locate the path.  We knew we were close, then about 15 minutes later we decided we’d missed it.  Eventually we did find the spot that we were supposed to finish the walk.  No problem, we just started there instead.  The walk took us through beautiful rainforest, filled with the sounds of birds and the creaking of bamboo (which initially tricked us into thinking there were monkeys playing in the canopy).  Initially it was easy to follow, white arrows showing you which were to go.  Then as we ascended it got more confusing.  We reached a junction with two equally established paths leading away from it.  Tossing an imaginary coin we turned left.  As we kept heading up the mountain we started to see crops, rather than the untamed forest we had been in.  Then we arrived at someone’s house.  Ooops, wrong path then.  We did an about turn, and this time took the right hand path... until we ended up at someone’s house, or actually a few houses with a small track winding between them.  Doing our best lost tourist impersonation we hesitated at a junction with about 6 different options until a local saw us and waved us over.  He asked us where we were going, and I frantically searched my phone for the name of the walk we were supposed to be on, surely I had a photo of it somewhere.  He then suggested somewhere, I enthusiastically agreed that it was where we were headed.  He then invited us into his garden, and took us up to his house which had the most amazing view over the valley.  He pointed out the mountain to our right as the head of the sleeping indian (this was indeed where we were trying to get to) and then gave us what sounded like complex instructions and some indiscriminate waving of his hands.  We thanked him sincerely and walked down between the houses he had gestured towards, arriving finally at the house we had got to when we went up the left hand fork.  

Feeling more confident now that this was the right direction we kept going, and going, and going.  The path took us around the back of the mountain and then as we turned back towards the front we left the tree-line and were nearly buffeted off our feet by the strength of the wind which gusted in an unpredictable manner.  Pushing through the wind we finally reached the peak.  Excited to get there I expected to walk over and down the other side only to find the ground end abruptly in a true ridgeline, with vertical cliffs at least 100m high on the town side of the mountain.  Having reached the peak, enjoyed the view and had a sip of our carefully rationed water, we decided to continue on the path, rather than more sensibly heading back the way we had come.  The next half an hour was spent trying valiantly to remain upright against the pressure of the wind and the not quite vertical decent down rock and gravel.

Once we were back in the shelter of the trees we breathed a sigh of relief, and were able to pick up speed again as thirst pushed us on to the nearest shop.  Learning point for the day - assume we will get lost, and bring enough water for a 5 hour hike, even when going on a 1 hour walk.

We also headed up to the zoo in El Valle, which was an interesting combination rescue centre, and plant nursery.  The main reason to go is to see the critically endangered Panamanian Golden Frog, as it’s basically your only opportunity to see one in Central America.  The zoo itself was saddening at times given the size of the cages, but we were hugely entertained by the spider monkeys who played around their enclosure, using their tail as a 5th limb as they swung on ropes, slid down poles, or demonstrated proper use of monkey bars.  

Hot and steamy in Panama City

We had a fairly lazy start to Panama, mostly due to the heat.  In Panama City it was 35 degrees with 90% humidity.  The sort of heat that leaves you dripping sweat even whilst you remain stationary beneath a fan.  The middle of the day saw every sofa, chair, flat surface of the hostel covered with dozing tourists.  We had based ourselves in Casco Viejo, the charming old part of the city.  It is gradually being restored and so there are crumbling, boarded up buildings, beside these beautifully restored colonial mansions many of which are now boutique hotels well out of our budget.  We were staying in Luna’s Castle.  It used to be a home and is now an eclectic mix of funky art, beautiful architectural details and the necessary practicalities for a hostel with nearly 100 guests, oh and a fort, can’t forget the fort!  We loved just meandering around the streets, even when doing necessary chores like the laundry - at the building with the giant lizard.

One of the highlights turned out to be frozen yoghurt, or to be more specific the toppings.  The yoghurt itself was good - cake batter flavour was my particular favourite.  But the main draw is the extensive array of toppings, from various crushed up chocolate bars, fruit, brownie dough, jelly beans the list goes on and on.  It’s priced on weight and it is difficult not to go overboard as even with only a small amount of each topping you would end up with half a kilo in your cup!  We managed to (slightly) reign ourselves in, and created our own heavenly delight.

I should also mention the Panama Canal, since that’s the thing most people think of when you mention Panama.  We arrived in time to see a couple of ships entering the canal, and then a ship being lowered back to sea level just before we left.  I loved watching the trains.  Yes, the whole massive tankers being raised 20m by gravitationally propelled water in a system built over a hundred years ago and still working with it’s original locks was amazing to watch.  But the trains that were attached to the ship to keep it centered were more entertaining as they made their way up and down the steep ramp between the sea level lock and the lake level lock.  Then there was the wonderfully kitsch museum with life size models of people attaching ropes to a ship that protruded slightly from the wall, and “photo spots” with footprints to show you where to stand to take the perfect photo of your companion in a fake tunnel.  If you prefer you could also have them take a photo of you in front of a green screen, and have it printed with you in various locations in the locks, or on one of the massive container ships.

Border crossings - now we're backpacking!

In some ways Panama feels like the trip proper is starting.  Hong Kong and Orlando have been awesome, amazing, but very much like being on vacation.  Now, we become backpackers.  The first challenge we hit was getting into Panama.  Panama it seems has some of the strictest policies regarding onward tickets, which means you won’t be allowed on the plane unless you have one.  

After much research and debate, we decided to use a company called flyonward who will purchase you a fully refundable ticket that is valid for 24hours for use in these situations.  It’s a real ticket, and you pay them US$10 to do the buying and cancelling for you, rather than having to do it yourself (apparently most airlines have a 24 hour free cancellation policy).  The system sounded great.   But, we hadn’t banked on Jason’s paypal being linked to his old work email, and the company sending the ticket to that email address.  We were madly trying to get this sorted, tried checking in and being honest with our flight out of Mexico, got rejected for being honest and sent away.  More frantic emails and eventually our ticket arrived at an email address we could check!  The airline check in person wasn’t the least perturbed about us now having a flight from Panama to Amsterdam, despite us having just told her our real travel plans.  She just went ahead and entered all our new flight details in the system, checked it was legit and gave us our boarding passes.

We then passed through Orlando immigration, or we hope we did.  We passed through a chaotic mess, where a guy on a chair looked at our passports and stamped our boarding pass (not our passport though), before a ramshackle queue led us towards security and the now familiar strip down to your underwear to get through system. Ok, potentially a slight exaggeration...

We kept waiting to find immigration, but didn’t.  I really hope it was the guy on the chair, but I thought American immigration would be a little more organised and official.  There wasn't even any biometric scanning, and even the theme parks were checking our fingerprints on a regular basis!

On arrival to Panama’s immigration we filled in our arrival form listing our stay as 5 weeks - the time until our flight to Amsterdam - which would be cancelled a few hours later.  The immigration official, who spoke no English, then informed us we were only allowed 30 days.  Given my limited Spanish I knew what he was telling us, but not what we could do about it.  We nodded, looked reproachful and I said 30 days back, then 4 weeks, just so he knew my Spanish was up to the important parts of this conversation.  In my head I was quickly freaking out given the complete intransigence at the Orlando end for requirements to get in.  He seemed satisfied and stamped us in anyway.  Maybe if we’d spoken Spanish it would have been a more indepth interrogation, who knows?   I was just grateful we made it in!