An observation

It’s interesting to observe how backpacking has changed over time.  It’s almost exactly 8 years since we started our 18 month trip and many things are the same.  The dodgy hostels, the joy of finally having air conditioning/private bathroom/actual running water, the communal kitchens where everyone shows their ingenuity in creating a meal from the 3 cheapest things they could find at the market.  There are the friendly chats about where you’ve been and where you’re coming from, the single travellers who find someone to spend a few days with before parting ways, only the tenuous connection of facebook friendship remaining.  There are the same faces that you keep seeing as you move from place to place, other people going the same rough direction.  

But what has changed is smart phones.  Back in 2008 a lot of backpackers had phones, but not one had a smart phone.  Down time in hostels was often spent playing games, and we learnt a lot of card games during that trip.  Now when we swing in our hammocks watching as day fades to night, each face becomes lit up by the glow of a phone.  Occasionally something is shared, a phone passed between friends, before it is taken back and everyone retreats into their own solitary glow.  

In 2008 travel was punctuated by the weekly search for an internet cafe, to check emails and post an update about our adventures.  Now every hostel has wifi, and in case that’s not enough most cafes do as well.  So we google where to go, what to do and where to stay rather than relying on word of mouth.  Back then we were cut off from what was going on in the world, aware only of Obama due to the general excitement from locals in Africa at the prospect of a black president.  For better or worse we can still follow what is going on in the world, with our friends and with our family.  It is not just the odd email once every couple of months to hear how our dogs are doing, but Facetime calls where we see their gorgeous faces and our hearts break just a little with how much we miss them.  

Some of it feels like a loss, the games, the reliance on word of mouth, the mystery that is created when you arrive in a city (or country in the case of Ethiopia) with no real idea what is there but trust in the people who have told you it is somewhere that is worth the trip.  Even as I am aware of it, I google where I will go, and what we will do.  I check facebook, and call home.  I don’t sit in the glow of my phone (because that was stolen), but maybe I would if I still had it.  Everything changes, I’m just surprised how much backpacking has changed by the phone which is clutched in everyone’s hands.

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!