Island paradise

After careful study of bus routes and taxi rides I took the easy way out and booked a beach trip with a local tour firm. Two bus rides would leave us in the middle of nowhere hoping to find a taxi for the last 10 miles to the beach. Looking for a fun day at the beach – not an adventure in exotic travel – made the easy way out, well...easy!

It was worth every penny. We left Boquete at 7:00 am and arrived at Boca Chita, a coastal village, an hour and a half later. Our boat was waiting for us.

As we sped downstream we passed a dozen cruising boats, some of whom were restocking and waiting for a weather window for a Pacific crossing.


Even though it was overcast (as you can see in the pictures) the ocean and many scattered islands were beautiful. We arrived at “our” island which had a protected cove on one side and a rocky beach with crashing waves just 100 feet away on the other side.




The guides set up a portable table loaded with sandwich fixings, lots of fresh fruit and drinks. De Anne went kayaking while I tested the weight bearing load of a hammock.

Another couple from North Carolina was with us and they are contemplating a move to Panama with their nine children. We went for a swim after lunch on the tranquil side of the island and then moved to the other side for some wave action.

Returning in the late afternoon, our boat stopped at a remote hotel, high on a bluff, for a snack. The stairs climb alone was enough to build and appetite. I stopped half way up claiming to need a picture, but also needing a climbing break.

Gardening – Panama style

Normally seeing men in full slickers with machetes would invoke thoughts of a slasher B-movie; however, in Panama it is just a gardener.


In our walks we have seen many gardeners. In the tropical rain forest the trick is not how to grow things, but how to hold the greenery at bay. The only two gardening tools we have seen (except on the the golf course) are machetes and huge, shoulder-slung, double-handed weedwackers.

Everyone here owns a machete. The first time I saw a man walking down the street with one I was a tad nervous. In fact, the first 10 or 20 times I passed a man carrying a machete I felt a flutter. After a couple weeks of not getting hacked to pieces I can now issue a hearty “Hola” in passing and move on down the street without a care.

100 yards apart

The walk between our enclave and town is the equivalent of maybe 6 blocks, but shows the vast differences between rich and poor. The first picture shows the fine homes along a clear mountain stream. The second picture is of a plywood and plastic sheeting shack across the street and not more than 100 yards from the stream.




I took these two pictures yesterday on my way to the barber shop where I got a decent haircut for two dollars. While goods are somewhat cheaper here the real deals involve cheap labor.

Uphill and down

De Anne rousted me early this morning for my longest hike yet. The only redeeming factor about marching my massive bulk 3 miles uphill is that the return trip is gravity-assisted.

We took several “Y's” and at each one the road got progressively narrower, until we were on a road that required us to step off whenever a vehicle approached. Since vehicles in Panama have abbreviated exhaust systems you can hear them coming and smell them going.

We (actually I) declared the uphill portion of the hike complete at a quaint (read dilapidated) steel, suspension bridge. I walked across gingerly feeling the steel plates rock under my feet. My comfort was having seen a car cross it a few minutes before; however, if it had been my car I would have had the passengers get out and walk across to lessen the vehicle weight.


We stopped for a break near the bridge at a volcanic rock formation. I have seen a similar, but much larger formation at Devil's Post Piles in Mammoth Lakes CA.
Some tourists were being guided on a rock climbing adventure, but the high-light was watching the guide free climb to install the safety rope for the others.




We completed our trek with a stop at the grocery store. When you want bread you pick up a metal tray and tongs then go to the bread shelf and load your breads and pastries onto the tray. The lady behind the counter wraps them and you pay on the spot, then continue your shopping. I always buy the one Diet Coke sitting on the soft drink shelf. Because so many Panamanians spend half their income on food I suspect that spending money on non-caloric food is a frivolous waste and Diet Coke tops the frivolous list. You can buy 2 pounds of rice or 3 loafs of bread for the price of a 2 liter bottle.

Valle Escondido

Our new “home” for July is Valle Escondido (Hidden valley). We have rented a furnished condo overlooking the 5th green of the golf course that winds through this enclave.
The view from our condo:


Valle Escondido (to be referred to as enclave from now on) is a mix of resort/condos/townhomes/private homes. Access to the 3 level outdoor pool, saltwater indoor pool, sauna, whirlpools, steamrooms, etc are included with our condo.

One of the private homes:


Downtown Boquete is now a 10 minute walk away.

We celebrated the Fourth in town at our favorite Restaurant/Bar called Baru. De Anne had the best Margarita (two actually) and I drank the local beer – Balboa.
Baru in downtown Boquete:


We strolled back to the enclave for a buffet Bar-be-que of hamburgers, steaks, sausage, and chicken. The american fare included baked beans and a couple odd items like yucca with verde sauce. Steak here is different too. I suspect the cows work out daily and have never seen an ear of corn. Totally lean meat, cooked well-done, but highly seasoned and quite tasty.

The $10.95 price of the meal included house wine and a fabulous dessert of apple tart with ice cream, artfully drizzled carmel and a couple mint sprigs. We were served by vest wearing waiters and ate on white linen tablecloths. I mention this because I was in tennis shoes and shorts. The other patrons were likewise attired. It was amusing to see all the customers dressed so scruffy while the setting and the staff were so elegant.

The hotel entrance:

Side roads

I understand folks might be skeptical of my hiking abilities, and it is true that next to my long-legged wife I am woefully deficient; however, I can on occasion walk a couple miles with her - as long as she maintains a slow pace. As prove thereof I offer the following pictures of our morning stroll:

(Click on any picture to enlarge)

We started by crossing the bridge a couple blocks from the center of town.


A little ways out of town is a development like so many we saw in Florida. Looks good but no houses.


The next bridge 2 miles up the road is out, but still in use. While we were there a man in a small van with lots of kids aboard asked my help. I guided him across with hand signals. With one tire against the curb the other tire was one inch from the hole. We soon left because De Anne did not like the responsibility and did not want to be there when a load of people went 30 feet over the edge into the river.


Back to civilization! I'm winded but she has not broken a sweat!

No reservations

Channeling Anthony Bourdain I bought a smoked sausage Wednesday. Now some might question the wisdom of such a purchase from a third world roadside vendor when a language barrier prevented even the possible discussion of ingredients and animal parts.

Throwing caution to the wind - go big or stay home - I had my lunch ready. Without going into details, suffice to say that Thursday was spent in quiet reflections of my gastronomical shortcomings. My dear, sweet wife was by my side, at least during the rainy part of the day when she could not go hiking.

By Thursday night I was ready to risk again. De Anne and I visited a local resturant. By local I mean for locals. No english spoken, no sub-titled menus, and a group of locals whooping up the Mexico/Panama soccer match. After a quiet dinner, marred only by having to administer the Heimlich maneuver on De Anne because of a large piece of gristle, we decided we had found another place not to eat again.

Two bad meals in a week. I've done worse in the USA.