So why Panama?

…is the first question everyone asks.  Well, I wanted to see the Panama canal.  Since Panama isn’t a destination most people want to go, I decided I’d go while I’m not in a relationship and before I have kids. I certainly don’t want to drag someone along who doesn’t really want to be there.  The Melía hotel chain also has a property in Panama.

All the other Melías I’ve seen and heard about were quite nice, so I didn’t think twice about it.  I extended the invitation to the rest of my close friends, and two ladies decided to join me. Kathy bought her ticket the very next day, and Ielieke ended up buying two tickets by mistake a couple of days later, but got that ironed out with her credit card shortly thereafter.

Anticipation and excitement build over the next coming weeks, as well as a bit of melancholy because our friend Jason wouldn’t be joining us.  Our trip was in early November, so we geared up for Halloween to make the time go by faster..  Finally the day arrives!  Kathy arrived first at the airport, and they told her that she couldn’t fly!  Her passport expired 3 months later and she had a return ticket, but that wasn’t good enough!  Apparently, you need at least 6 months left on your passport.

She called me very upset, but I missed the call.  In the meantime she cashes in her ticket and there will be a $300 charge.  I call back and reach her as I arrive at the airport…and we try to reach Ielieke but it goes to voicemail.  We spy her trying to check in at the kiosk, so we tell her what’s going on and she thinks we’re joking.  Then the screen tells her she needs to go to the special assistance counter because they couldn’t locate her reservation.  (meaning she has no seat on the plane)  So before we even take off we already have to obstacles to overcome.

Ielieke had a reservation after all, but had the confirmation number of the ticket that was cancelled.  Kathy got them to just reissue the ticket for the next day without a charge.  She planned to be the first person in line at the passport office when they opened the doors in the morning.  We part ways, and Ielieke and I get on the plane.  Our departure is delayed because they had to swap out the front tire on the landing gear…but we arrive in Panama without incident or accident right on schedule at 8:30 p.m.

The First Night

To GPS or not to GPS…

The airport there is state-of-the-art.  It is the biggest and nicest one in Central America, so they say.  You would never know you are in a third world country…except there is no cellular service unless you buy one of the local cellphones.  (no cooperating agreements with Verizon, Sprint, etc.) Now to get to the hotel, which is in the province of Colón (not the city)…cab $85 each way…or car $300 for the week.  We choose the car since we plan to be back in this area at least 3 more times.  As intelligent females that know how to read maps, we skip the GPS option saving $70 and get a couple of maps instead.  Now the real fun begins!

The man with the glass eye…

Ielieke was navigator for our initial drive to the hotel.  We thought the directions we were given seemed really easy and straight forward, yet we didn’t think we were where we should be.  So we pulled over for directions, and the nice man with one glass eye asks us if we have GPS.  You already know the answer to that, but he said good, because they are always wrong.  So he sets us straight…we have to go over the bridge and turn at the hospital, and we’ll be back on track.  Then he tells us not to stop in the city of Colón, because it’s very dangerous.  Needless to say we never saw the hospital or any signs for the highway, but we saw the entrance ramp as we passed it.  That was the first U-turn of many to come.

Epileptics beware!

All the rear running lights on every car owned by a native, including most tractor trailers – and even taxis – either don’t work or are broken, or both.  Police vehicles are the exception.  They drive around with all of the lights on all of the time, and all of them work.  This includes the really obnoxious rear-facing strobe lights that blind drivers behind them.  Thank God I’m not prone to seizures!  Rental cars, however, seem to be equipped with lights…but turn signals must cost extra.

Random humans

Panama streets have no street signs, and there is no warning that an exit off the highway is coming up…it’s just all of a sudden there!  Stop signs seem to be optional.  As a matter of fact, all traffic signals and signs seem to be more of a suggestion, rather than law.  I’m amazed we didn’t see accidents everywhere.  What we did see everywhere were 24 hour tire repair places…about every 2 miles or so.  Also there were stray dogs that look sort of like dingoes –  intent on getting somewhere and trotting along at a brisk pace.  Let’s not forget the random humans playing chicken crossed the road – or simply standing, presumably waiting for one of the smog spewing buses to come collect them.  Somehow they even manage to fit 5 cars abreast in a 2-lane highway, all dodging one another as they go.

All of the locals we interacted with there were very helpful.  But often the directions they gave didn’t make sense as we drove along.  We found out the hard way that the “official” maps there are wrong.  Several roads and landmarks are reversed, and none of the signs show the road numbers that correspond with the map.  The road we were looking for was the Autopista, and to reach it we needed to follow Corredor Norte…a divided highway with exits and entrances and no traffic lights.

Dracula, help!

We never found Corredor Norte that night.  Instead we went the entire route on the Transistmica.  We found this very hard to pronounce.  (Emphasize the ‘sis.’)  We had the most success pretending we were Dracula while we said it:  Tran-SEEST-me-ka.  This nightmare of a roadway runs parallel to the Autopista and is under construction for a good third of the way.   With speed limits of about 20-25 mph you make no progress fast.  Then it morphs into a dark, desolate, hilly, serpentine road with those dingoes and random humans, and plenty of potholes.  (hence the 24 hr tire repair shops) The speed limit goes up to about 40 for the rest of the length of it.  But in the torrential rain, we made sloth-like progress.  I think this is what’s called driving blind!

Nuclear aftermath

It’s about 1:30 a.m. when the landscape changes and we come into a little bit of civilization.  By this time the rain had stopped, and we finally see signs for Colón – yippee! Then we run smack dab into a military check point manned with 15 or so heavily armed non-smiling guards.  We get directions from one of them which lead us further into the combat zone…literally.  This area looked like the city was blown-up and then abandoned, except it wasn’t deserted by any means.  No lights shone in any of the windows, and all of the people were out roaming in the streets.  This is the city of Colón we were warned about.

I was VERY happy the windows on our car were totally blackened.  If these people could have seen us in the car, I think we might have been in some real trouble.  We needed to get out of there because we didn’t want to be added to the war casualties.  Another U-turn and we’re back at the military checkpoint.  We ask a different guard how to get to our hotel…and he’s drawing a blank.  We ask him to call the hotel for us, which he does, and we high-tail it out of there and don’t look back…with yet another set of directions.

Stephen King was here.

In the aftermath of the downpour the air was thick with humidity, and a light fog descended around us as we continued on our journey.  Soon thereafter, we found ourselves in front of the emergency entrance of a hospital.  Luckily for us we didn’t have an emergency because it was closed.  It felt like I was living in a Stephen King novel as we ran endless circles in the parking lot searching for a way out.  Eventually I drove the wrong way down an entrance ramp (NO SIGN!!!!!!) to escape the rat maze.

We saw a gas station where a cab driver was filling up.  I asked for directions and he started using landmarks as reference points.  So I just asked him to drive there.  We would follow, and pay him when we got there —  which is exactly what happened.  Panama has no shortage of facilitators willing to solve any problem for you for the right price.  After  a harrowing 3 hour tour we made it to the front desk.  The receptionist gave us a copy of a hand-drawn map and the keys to our home for the week.

Our room isn’t in the main building, but in another smaller one that has about 12 suites in it.  It had a beautiful layout – a second floor 1 bedroom suite with a full kitchen, 2 full bathrooms and a tub long enough and deep enough that I could have enjoyed a bath in it.  However, to my dismay, they had neglected to clean and prepare it for our arrival.  Ielieke cleaned the bathroom and the toilet seats and I went back to the desk for clean sheets.  The “sofa bed” was actually a futon that rested on the floor when you opened it, so we needed an extra bed brought in because nobody is sleeping on the floor.  Exhausted, we finally went to sleep.

Day Two

The next morning we went to breakfast, got settled, and waited to hear if Kathy was successful getting a new passport.  We wandered down to Gatún lake that borders the hotel grounds…and Ielieke asked the guys if there were alligators in the lake.  “Not on this side,” the guy says, “They are far away.”  (but in the same lake, mind you)

Meanwhile, we get the additional bed, and intercept the maids for towels.  We’re wondering what’s going on and worrying something else has happened with Kathy since we still haven’t heard from her.  Ielieke’s phone won’t stay connected to WI-FI and keeps dumping her onto some unknown cellular network…and she’s envisioning $40/min phone calls.  Finally we hear from Kathy that she’s on her way, she got her passport renewed and made it home.  She set her phone on the charger, and then left for the airport without it!  She checked her bags, got her boarding pass, and had to go all the way back home again to get her phone to tell us she was on her way.

Relieved, we decide to make the run to the airport while it was still daylight.  That way we could see the route and write down how to get to the hotel.   A little more perseverance and we probably would have made it to the hotel ourselves last night without the cab driver escort.  We passed the hospital straight out of a Stephen King novel, and the big Purina water towers we saw the night before, and the town Margarita…all about 5 min away.  Of course the hotel map left out a few streets and turns.

The scam

The Autopista is heaven!!! We don’t care that it costs $7 each way in tolls.  The trip that took 3 hours yesterday was all of an hour on the Autopista, and by the time we left Panama I had that down to about 45 minutes.  Also, no obstacle course — no dogs, no wayward humans, very few potholes, and NO TRAFFIC!  The people can’t afford the tolls, I guess.

We go through the cash only lanes, and they always say they have no change to give you when you don’t have it exactly.  One attendant even asked us why we DIDN’T have exact change!  Another gave us change for a $10 on a $2.35 toll, but neglected to include the $5.  Unfortunately for her, we counted the change.  Bet that toll collector thought she made an easy $5.   Curious that they always manage to find change when you don’t pull away.

Wow, they are lazy!  The lawn chairs they hang out in on the toll booth medians while they chat on cell phones are clearly much more comfortable and to their liking than the seats in the toll booths they are supposed to be manning.  And they are really put out if they have to get up to do their job.

Low rider

Everyone is in the mall because it’s a holiday…Independence Day from Colombia!  Consequently, the mall closes early at 8pm.  So at 8pm we go out to the car and a flat tire greets us.  It’s not just flat either; it’s on the rim.  Somewhere along the way we picked up a screw in the sidewall.  The bad news:  I can’t loosen the lugs.  The good news:  Security guards are eager to help damsels in distress!  They heard Ielieke and rode their bikes over and put the spare on for us.  We thought $10 was a good tip.  It was probably a half a day’s pay for them.

Twenty minutes later we arrive at the airport annoyed and a little stressed, but we are right on time for Kathy’s flight.  We pull up to the Alamo rental car with the intention of getting a new tire.  Neither one of us noticed Kathy standing there on the curb when we pulled in – her flight arrived a little early.  We went right past her and inside to handle the tire.  When Kathy found us, we were waiting at the rental car counter.  I gave her the sandwich we bought her so she wouldn’t starve.

Headbanger’s ball

Turns out they don’t want to change the tire, they want to swap the car…AND CHARGE $8 for the 1/32 of a tank of gas that was missing.  Ielieke argued this admirably for about 15 minutes but wasn’t making any headway.  I had the bright idea to take the car out to the station and fill it (for about $1.50 I’m figuring at the most).  We forgot it was a holiday.  All the stations were already closed.

We come back — now down 1/8 of a tank — and the car they want to give us has 3/4 of a tank.   So she still wants to charge us the $8, AND we have to bring the other back with 3/4 full.  Makes no sense.  Forget the $8, and we bring the new car back full.  Another ten minutes wasted arguing this point before Alamo sees they actually benefit and finally agree.  All this negotiating gave Kathy plenty of time to enjoy her sandwich.

The Hospital in the Mist

Now we leave…we look for the Brisas de Golf sign for the road we need…but can’t find it.  We get directions to go over the bridge and turn at the hospital.  This is the same hospital that eluded us our first night in Panama.   We don’t see it this time either, but we know that road is the dreaded Transistmica.  Another U-turn and we find the Brisas de Golf sign, and make our way back to the hotel.  We get near Colón, and I know I don’t want to go back to that military checkpoint…so I see the road we came out of and make a U-turn over the railroad tracks to get to it (an illegal move I assume – but who knows?  this IS Panama)…and Ielieke whips out our own written directions, and we’re there in a jiffy.

Back to the front desk because the maids never brought the clean sheets for the extra bed we asked for 10 hours earlier, and the towels they left were actually bath mats and they don’t cover very much.  The front desk gives me pool towels…and says someone will be over in 10 minutes with the sheets.  30 min later – no sheets – I call the front desk – they are on their way now.  Another 30 minutes and Kathy calls…it’s 12:30 am — we want to sleep!  10 minutes later a guy shows up with the sheets.

Day Three

At breakfast (it’s a buffet) we all take lunch for the day in Ziploc bags…thanks Ielieke!  Neither one of us relished getting behind the wheel, and thankfully we were able to arrange a private driver to the Gatun locks of the Panama Canal, and Fort San Lorenzo at a price we all thought was well worth it.  He lived in the area and we found out he loved the Yankees.

We spent over an hour at the canal locks– what a mechanical marvel!  They’re looking to widen it soon.  We got to see the component parts of the new locks where they are doing the construction.  The Gatun locks have two-way traffic, and four ships passed through…two completely…while we were there.  Then we had to traverse the canal to get to the fort.  I wanted to video it, but we couldn’t get the window open.  My solution:  open the sliding door!  Bad idea — the armed guard on the bridge was none to pleased and gave our driver a stern talking to about it.

Fort San Lorenzo jutted out into the Chagres River and would have been a good first line of defense against any aquatic invasion.  (An interesting side note:  the Cagres River is the only river in the world that empties into two oceans.)  Unlike any US historic site I’ve ever been to, you could access everything here.  The steps of the fort were deteriorating, yet you could still walk down them.  You could stand on the edge of the cliff – and fall off of it, too.  No ropes, no glass barriers, no fences, no caution signs…total run of the place.

Bring on the salsa!

We returned to the hotel, raided the buffet, and then clandestinely packed breakfast and lunch for the following day.  As we were leaving, we ran into a guy that had the body and stature of Boss Hog…the Spanish version, but without the 10-gallon hat.  He wore all white, which is probably what triggered the association.  Come down to the nightclub, he says.  But we want salsa music and don’t hear any.  He ushers us further down the hall past the 80’s music bar to the back room where indeed they are playing salsa, but it’s empty.  This doesn’t faze us since salseros don’t go out til 11:00 at the very earliest…and most after midnight.  We say we’ll be back later.

Fast-forward to later, and we’re all dressed with dance shoes at the ready.  We are greeted by merengue music and a few more people than before.  Two women are dancing with each other.  Another couple gets up now and again to dance, and we wait for salsa.  We each order a drink.   They desperately need bartender schools down here!  It took 15 minutes to make the libations, and they were sub-par.  The local beer I ordered took 5 minutes longer to fetch and was on the bitter side…not my taste.  Another 20 minutes goes by…still ALL merengues out of the speakers.  The DJ gets up to program more songs from his laptop and decides to rev up the smoke machine.  I responded by immediately opening the window behind me as far as it would go, and as the fog rolled over us still merengue played.

In comes Boss Hog and we make eye contact.  I raise my arms as if to say where are all these people you said would be here?  He immediately pulls out a cell phone and 5 minutes later there are 3 guys that walk in and sit at the bar.  Another 5 minutes and one of them comes and asks Kathy to dance…but she says no!  She only dances salsa and bachata…so he should ask one of us!  We gave her a gentle ribbing for that one.  So Ielieke danced with him, and still no salsa.  We left shortly thereafter without even finishing the drinks.

Day Four

Wednesday morning we head to Casco Antiguo…a really cool section of the city.  We’ve got the hang of the Autopista now, and Ielieke gets us to the general area in no time.  However, the map has the airport and the mall on that side of the city in reversed locations, so we end up getting slightly lost and get a great tour of the local ghetto.

It doesn’t seem near as bad as the others we’ve ended up in.  But now it’s daylight, and they can see us through the windshield, and they are expressing interest.  The map of all the ghetto areas are right on the money – go figure.  So we make our way out easily, but then it’s all downhill with navigation.  The signs for exits are placed right at the exit so you don’t know it’s coming up, and they are quite fond of circles.  The signs for the circles are great, but confusing.  You often can’t tell which exit goes with which name and you only get to look at it once before you’re in it.  Then it’s European Vacation until you figure it out.

Constant state of flux

After a bit of elevated blood pressure we make it to Casco Antiguo…where there is one very small pay by the hour parking lot.  But there are miles of yellow curb lined with cars and plenty of locals happy to move the cones out of the legitimate spaces for a nominal fee.  We found our own parking and then had a great time on foot exploring.  This area is similar to Old San Juan in Puerto Rico, or the French Quarter in New Orleans.  Run down buildings are right next to cool renovated properties with a blend of Spanish colonial and French architecture.

You also have a great view of the Panama City skyline and the Amador Causeway from this area.  The French Plaza has cells below that once housed the garrison, then were used as prisons, and now a few of them have been turned into a restaurant…which was very good – we ate dinner there that night.

It was also air conditioned…a welcome break from the constant humidity in Panama. By the time we finished, the sun had set and the evening was pleasant.

Getting back to the Autopista is never as straight forward as it looks on the map, and tonight it was Ielieke’s turn to drive the wrong way down a one-way street.  NOT her fault…there wasn’t a sign in sight to indicate this.  Anyway, we ended up slightly lost…status quo for Panama…and between the two of us we now know how to get to everyplace in Panama foreigners shouldn’t visit.

Ielieke’s key card for the door doesn’t work when we return, so I’m now thinking I have to go back to the front desk AGAIN.  But Kathy’s worked, so I can do that tomorrow on the way to breakfast.  The maids for our room left us towels today, lots of them!  My guess is the driver we had for the canal trip spread the word we were good tippers…no one cared about us at all until today.

Day Five

The next day the Baha’i Temple and Panama Viejo are on the agenda.  We look on maps and google for about 1/2 hour to try to find this temple…the street name, a landmark, or something to narrow down where it is.  I write down detailed directions from google, cross my fingers,…and we’re off.  As we leave we see this curious sign by the hotel that pictures what we think is an anteater.

Actually, it is a coati (pronounced qwa’-tee or co-a’-tee) and there’s a whole band of them raiding the trashcan on the side of the road when we leave.

They resemble a racoon in body, but they have a bit of a snout.  Their tails are always straight up like a cat’s tail, and fluffy like that, too.  They ran away before we could get a really good picture of them.

Well, don’t you know the google map ended up being wrong.  Close but not perfect.  So another U-turn and more directions – this time from the armed guard at a bank.  Apparently you first have to have an account at the bank to go inside, and then this guard must electronically wand you.  His directions were right, but we nearly missed the entrance because you can’t see the sign till you’re abreast of the gate.  We probably used at least half of the brake pads on this car during our trip stopping short like this.

Determined David

The temple was very relaxing, and offered beautiful panoramic views of the area.  This is your reward for sitting through the brief yet informative video presentation, and the hour-long Sunday School Session with David.  I became ravenously hungry part-way through his “discussion” and was losing interest.  The fidgeting began…first me, then Ielieke a little bit. But Kathy seemed genuinely interested — so I tried to stick it out.

Diversionary tactics didn’t sway him from his course, and eventually there was a bit of a break in what he was saying.  Ielieke took the opportunity to stand and say, “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you…”.  I’m doing the happy dance in my head!  Yes! Yes!  Finally!  Food…here I come!  After satisfying our hunger, we were able to satisfy the soul a little bit.  This place has an amazing calming energy.  The noise from the Transistmica below is totally absent, and you are transported to another world.

The Old City

When we were all calm and relaxed we made our way to Panama Viejo, but not without a slight detour, arriving around 4:40.  A small fee gained us entrance and we took our time investigating all the ruins.  The park actually closed at 5:00, and the guy manning the gate didn’t seem too pleased when we were the last ones out at almost 6pm.  Serves them right for taking the money in the first place.

The Havana Club in Casco Antiguo piqued our interest because it is touted as a pretty famous salsa club on the internet.  We planned to either go that night or the next, but only if it was the kind of place we’d be comfortable in.  Since we took all the wrong turns getting there the day before, we made it there quickly.  I run in.  It turns out they sold it recently, and now it is a disco!  So no salsa dancing on this trip.

The Orange Cone Jugglers strike again

We enjoyed another fine meal in a hotel there in Casco Antiguo.  We also found out that the Yellow Curb Bandits don’t start placing their cones out til about 7pm in this end of town, so we had free front – row parking for dinner.  But before we even got in the car to leave that guy was trying to barter our spot to the next car coming down the street.

We figure it’ll be an early night tonight…we know exactly how to get home; it should take about an hour, and it’s only about 7:45.  We’re actually having a stress free drive and not paying that close attention when we get on Corredor Norte going the wrong way.

We take the first exit to turn around, and can’t figure out how to get back on the highway.  It lets us off in one of those questionable areas where everyone is walking from the seedy grocery store or just getting off buses, or just simply loitering.  We try to make our own way, but at this point Kathy is starting to get uncomfortable.  Ielieke and I are seasoned nocturnal ghetto explorers and we aren’t as apprehensive.  But we end up on what seems like a dead end leading into a black abyss, so we back out. It wasn’t wide enough to turn around in and the 8″ drop off the side of the road would surely mean at the very least we’d be stuck…or be stuck WITH a flat tire.  (Definitely not the place to be if you aren’t moving.)

Suspicious Minds

The armed guard at the local bodega was more interested in where we were coming from and going to and why than he was with giving us directions.  We couldn’t understand anything he was saying, either…just a word here and there – he spoke so fast.

So we go in the direction he pointed us, but stopped at a gas station for clarification.  The guy there tells us to follow the little van…but the van stops before it gets on the highway, and we don’t want to stop…and there’s no place to pull over anyway.  We squeeze by the van and then I see the sign for the entrance we want but it’s 30 feet in on the road we are passing by and not visible ahead of time.  Ielieke pulls up the next street to turn around, but it only fits one car though it allows 2-way traffic…and apparently people that roam in herds like cattle.  It took us about 5 minutes to turn around without running any of them over, and then we were back on track.  But no early night…it was 10:30 when we got back.

Day Six

Red Tape

The next day we had no plans, and Kathy wanted to go to the Free Trade Zone.  It’s kind of like an outlet compound for duty-free shopping.  Anything you buy there you can’t take with you – but it will be at the airport waiting for you, they say.  No matter, because to get in you need a pass.  At the entrance gate the armed guard tells us we have to keep going to the next gate (the one right at the military blockade entrance to the combat zone of Colon).  Present our passports and the rental car agreement there, get this pass.  Then come back and give him the pass, and he’ll let us through.

The Facilitators

While I’m having this conversation with the guard, we have time to look in and it falls short of our expectations of a great shopping experience.  We decide not to bother.  Making a U-turn to leave we encounter the facilitator who will produce a pass for you for a fee.  You get in; he and the guard split the money.  We say no thanks.  Our afternoon is free now, so on the way back we sight see a bit.

According to the street sign, all the neighborhood children that play soccer in Panama are very muscular!  And Panamanians have their priorities.  The abandoned pool left behind from American military occupation is the only thing that isn’t crumbling down.   The barracks and bowling lanes are another story.  You would think they would have moved right in to the apartment buildings.

Marco…marco….marco…..POLO!

On our tour we passed a lone house at the end of a street…but I missed it and wanted to go back.  The street actually opened up into a small circle of 5 homes…and lo and behold…that band of 30 or so coati in the side yard.  So we got our photos after-all!

We relaxed at the hotel pool, ate dinner, and turned in early.  I don’t think Ielieke slept a wink, though.  I know she worried about missing the 5:30am alarm.  The toothpicks holding my eyes open snapped about 9:30 for a power nap til 10pm.  Everyone was already in bed at that time, so I did my packing and went to sleep myself.

Day Seven

We loaded up, and checked out at 6:03am the next morning.  We didn’t let the door hit us on the way out either.  One mile from the airport we filled the tank to overflow and took a cell phone picture of the dash.  We hoped to alleviate any further argument with the dip at the counter there…but it still took 25 minutes to return the car.  We went through security and then bought something to eat and drink for the plane ride.  What they neglect to tell you is that you cannot take any liquid on the plane at all — no matter that you just bought it across the way from the gate at the airport convenience store.  You also have to go through an additional security check AT THE GATE where they will make you throw it out.

Well – I downed mine but then had to pee like a race horse when I got on the plane because I just drank two other bottles of water at the first security checkpoint.  I managed to tell Ielieke and Kathy before they got to the gate, so they were able to at least sit and enjoy their beverages rather than chug them. Ielieke and I were happy to land in the states.  She almost kissed the ground.  What an adventure!

July 2, 2016 –  Kat’s afterthoughts

It took me most of the following week to decompress from that adventure, but looking back, it was a great trip.  As we got the lay of the land and driving around became easier, I was able to relax and enjoy more of the time I spent there.  Just last week they finished the construction of the new locks in the Panama Canal, and I would like to return someday to see them in person…and maybe explore some of the areas outside of the central corridor.  They say Panama has beautiful beaches…