One Day Left
Sick as a dog last night. That is the first time I have ever had bad food here. At least I think it was the food from the restaurant. As soon as I was finished eating dinner I didn’t feel right, and the meal sat in my stomach like a stone. Cramping up, then subsiding, then cramping up again, I ignored it until I went to bed hoping it would pass, but as the night wore on I became more and more aware I was going to have to heave it out of me. I has been at least 7 years since I puked last and I didn’t relish the thought as there was a time when I did it as a matter of precaution after a long night of drinking. Nature took her course and I felt much better only to return for a repeat performance around 5:30 AM, after which I was finally able to get some sleep. So today I ate baby food. A fruit plate in the morning, plenty of water all day, and rice and vegetables for dinner with lots of hot sauce on it to kill off any remaining bugs. I fell normal now, and am much relieved.
Aside from that, I spent the day down at the beach with Christina et al, talking with various grey haired and sea weathered sailors who all seem to share somewhat the same mindset of minimalism. People really are waking up to what is going on, but only the skinny end of the bell curve.
There isn’t a lot more for me to say today. Tomorrow morning, with luck, I head to David with a car-full, and will take it one day at a time from there. I’ll miss the tranquility here. Owning a distinctly Panamanian experience in its’ symbiotic relationship with the owners and locals, it is a place like no other. May it never change… too much.
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This morning was a little rushed, but I made it to the dock by 9 for the free taxi. Jim had decided to follow his new girl to Panama City, so there was a little more room in the car. A quick check of fluids and tire pressures, and away we went. We stopped in the shade for a look at the viewpoint on the way out, but mostly went straight to David, I got myself into a room at the Pension, and as neither of them spoke much Spanish at all but were on a hunt for fishing lures and other paraphernalia, I accompanied them and acted as interpreter and director extraordinaire. I remember what it’s like being here and feeling lost, and it sucks, so I was glad to help them out. They wanted to pay me, so I forced them to buy my lunch… a buk fifty, where they ate as well and were as happy with the food as was I.
I got them all the way back to the bus terminal, along the way wandering aimlessly through the stores and street vendors, showed them the bus they needed to get back, parted company, and went back to the hotel for a shower and an ice cream cone. And a siesta. Now, 4:30 or so, I’m already wondering what to do with myself, so I think I’ll head down to the internet cafe and see what I can learn about the world after a week. I hear the British Pound is taking a beating. It’s about time, I say.
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Two days later I’m now writing this. Yesterday was spent doing nothing of importance. I took the car up the hill to visit Dave and see his “trailer trash” in the making. It is what it is. A 40′ sea can being made into a home. Nothing extravagant, and I wonder who will be a buyer, but it has some potential. For the most part, the visit was an excuse to escape the heat of David for the day. He was really too busy with it to visit for long so I moved my show onto Caldera for a visit there.
Rancho de Caldera is now about 92% complete, and when I knocked on the door of the house they used to live in on the property, there was no answer. Up the hill a bit is their restaurant, finished and functional, with a French-Canadian cook pining away over his stove with a bottle of wine and various sauces. He directed me to a door at the side through which I found a set of stairs going up to their new home. Set near the top of their property but far enough down the hill so as to be sheltered from the gusts of wind dominant this time of year, their living area has a million dollar view looking out over the valley below with the mountains of the continental divide as a backdrop. You are left wondering what panoramas a seat on their couch would birth given varying seasons and weather.
Chris was in the middle of being “green certified” by a woman of obvious self-importance, a necessary step towards listings in various high end publications world-wide, also with little time for visiting, so a few brief words, and I returned to my car. Really, I was just finding ways to stay up at the higher altitudes for the day.
From there I returned to the main road but taking my favorite “bike path” through Gualaca on the way home. The reason I call it this is due to the perfect piece of asphalt found winding through fields, rivers, and hills running all the way down the volcano, transiting Gualaca, and continuing on in similar fashion to the Panamerican Highway. This is a route I have taken in the past and have seen several packs of pedal bikes, apparently training, donning brilliantly colored outfits reminiscent of the Tour de France, but when I drive it, I am daydreaming of riding my own.
I stopped by the bus terminal on the way into town to check their schedule, and it looks like I should try to be there a little earlier, around 3 or 4 to be sure of an arrival in Panama on time. That seemed a little early, but given the wreckage my plans could take with any mechanical difficulties along the way, it seems like insurance instead of frustration.
My car, after being parked under a large tree at Boca Brava, had a wonderful quilt of bird shit, complete with seeds, and needed a wash, so I dropped it off down the street where they hand wash it for $2.50, and walked to my room for a shower and siesta. An hour and a half later I was awake again and went to fetch my car in the midst of Davids’ 20 minute 5 o’clock rush hour. I have very little to drive, so that was nice.
That was yesterday, today has just started after breakfast and coffee, so I’ll see what happens.
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Really wondering what to do with myself, I finally decided to go and get a “Revisado” for my car. This is the first step in getting a new plate. After stopping by the Municipal building to ask a few questions at the side window, I was informed that they will indeed have the new plates on Friday, but I’m not sure how they are going to get it punched out in a day. Really, as I write this, it seems impossible given the bureaucracy here.
The revisado was a snap. I just drove to the same place I was last year, parked the car for a few pictures, coughed up $22, and done in 1/2 an hour. Wow. From there I went back to the Municipal building to stand in line, while of the six people working the windows inside, 2 were doing new plates, 1 was doing bicycle plates, one was doing God knows what, and the last was primping and fawning over her hair in the reflection from the glass between their booths. It really was amazing to watch her absolute ignorance of the fact that she could be seen doing this. I half expected a bottle of fingernail polish to appear. Ahhhh, government workers.
It seemed only two people were either allowed to do the new plate issues, or that only the two knew how. After waiting for a solid 1/2 hour, standing, shifting foot to foot, and not moving a damn inch, I noticed that the 2 supposedly doing new plates were both just sitting there, arms crossed, occasionally wiggling their mouse as if their computers weren’t working. A moment of pondering and I walked out the door. Panamanians may be used to gov’t inefficiency and arrogance, but I saw no use in standing there until they finally got their shit together. I’ll go back tomorrow morning; if at all until I return later this year.
Well, then I really had nothing to do with my time. Lee had rationed out another of his books to me (along with a list of others to pursue), so after trying to read in my room under one of those terrible fluorescent bulbs, I packed up my game and went down by the river to find a place for my hammock where I could read in fresh air and sunlight. It took a while to find a good spot, as most of the trees there are massive, but that is where I spent up until now, 4 PM. There is always a cool breeze either going up the river, or offshore. Nice.
Now, back at the hotel, I’ll get a cone across the street, and try to read on the chairs out front. I’m just biding my time until the flight back home.
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Bah! I went to a movie instead. Valkurie, with Tom Cruize, whom I normally hate and still don’t care much for. Another attempt by Hollywood to rewrite sections of history, but a good diversion from the heat. Strangely enough, the Spanish word for films is “divertidos”, which is exactly what they are meant to be.
I awoke early for me, early enough to have breakfast and a coffee before heading back to the Municipal building. Yesterday, I was told that the fine for late renewal of a plate was high, so I figured I would at least try to get the paperwork done. If they don’t have the plate for me before I go, they issue a piece of paper saying I paid all I had to, and I can explain things should I need. Better safe than sorry, and I had the time before the meeting up in Boquete.
What a difference going in the morning makes. I was there at 8 o’clock sharp, and the door was open, everybody was there, but no line, no wait, no problems with their system, and babba bing, I was on my way by ten after, BUT…. I have to go back tomorrow to pick up the sticker for the front window and the new plate. She assured me, to my absolute amazement, that the new plate, complete with raised numbers, would be printed out by tomorrow morning. I didn’t know what to say… I still don’t, but that if I actually do receive it in the morning, you may have to call for the defib kit. I can hardly stand the suspense. It will be nice to be able to bring home another plate for the year 2008 and hang in on the wall by the back door with the other one. Not important, just nice.
Now, I don’t let my life revolve around AA meetings when I am down here, but I really wanted to meet up with Keith and confirm when, where, and how I was going to place my car at his house. He wasn’t at the meeting that morning. After some palpitations, I let it go, and as luck would have it, while trying to reach him after the meeting on the phone, getting nowhere, playing tag with his answering machine, fussing with settings on my own damned phone, he ended up calling the guy standing right next to me! HA! Awesome! All is good, all is well, worry too much and go to hell.
One of the girls wanted to go down into David, so I brought her along for the ride, and found that there was a recovery house down here (where she wanted to visit one of her friends). It was for the rich and insanely wealthy. It’s nice to have a recovery house in this part of the world, but give me a break. They wanted $7500 for the first month, less for the second, but if you stayed there for 3 months you got a break. Then it was the paltry sum of $5000 for the three months. Unreal. Completely out of reach for 99.91% of the population of Panama. Granted, it was a really nice house, but I voiced this thought, with temperance, and was informed that the Betty Ford clinic charged 60G for a month, so, y’know, this place is a real bargain. I thought “Who gives a rats ass, you guys should be ashamed of yourselves.” Catering to recovery bargain hunters out of the states. Rather vulturous, if you ask me.
Then the small part of me piped up and said that there will probably be a bull market in recovery for formerly wealyhy yanks, and it would really be a great way to make a living, tearing a strip out of all those pompous asses from the states, knocking them off their high horses, seeing them get what they deserve, groveling in their false pride, surrendering to humility, and finally making real people out of them. Work I could really enjoy!!! I know, I know, I know,… but I’d be really really good at it. LOL Ahh, that was fun.
Ok, the weather is really starting to change now. For the last three days there has been rain in the afternoon, cooling things off considerably. The howling winds have died down, even in Boquete, so you can walk around without constantly picking schmeg out of your eyes. This morning was actually cool-ish, but the heat returns throughout the mid-day. One of these days… I will end up down here during the rainy season and understand for myself why the locals prefer it over any other time of year.
Gold turned, bounced off it’s downtrend line, and bolted straight up again, a near classic breakout move so far. There aren’t so many voices out there saying gold is dead and a relic of the past as it makes all time highs in the Cando, Pound, Euro, etc… I placed a bid for a little bit, and I guess I’ll see if I got it in the morning. We’ll see, as I placed it far away from the market, but morning antics around the option rollover are common, so I may get a surprise. How many days in between full moons? Feb 9th, good.
One more full day here and the traveling begins. There is a 9 o’clock meeting up in Boquete on Saturday, putting me in town early in the day (who the hell came up with that hour??), so how I’ll spend the day up there is beyond me at this point. I guess I’ll also have to bring my luggage with me, and once again, I’m so very glad I packed extremely lightly. I originally thought I’d be packing traveling clothes only for the drive back to Canada. Who would have thought that this would be the trip I would end up dragging my bags around for the longest duration so far?
I think I’ll read a little more of Lee’s book. That should turn the light out on today.
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Call the medic, I have a new plate! Again, the morning is the time to go. I now have everything BUT the sticker for my front windshield. They didn’t have enough or something. It doesn’t matter, after I explained to this loudmouthed woman, whom I could barely understand as she talked so fast, that I had a flight leaving on Sunday, they issued me a paper saying I was good until April 31st. So when I return, I just go back again and get the sticker. By that time of the year they should have an ample supply. Either way, I’m covered should I get stopped by la policia, which rarely happens.
It’s only 9:20 and I’m already looking for things to do with the day. I’d like to see if I can find a badge of Chirriqui, the province here, that I can add to my collection back home. I need to gas up the car, of which I heard on the news, blaring over breakfast, that Panama has the cheapest gas of all the Central American countries, with Cosly Rica being the most expensive. Surprise surprise. This has always been the case with the exception of Belize, which has a resentment all its’ own.
I guess I go put some more miles on my shoes.
I stopped in down the road to check on my stocks, and that is where I am writing this now. 75c and hour, but the place has no A/C as far as I can tell. Ya do what ya gotta do. This will probably be the last post before I return to Canada. For those of you who followed along, thanks, and see you soon.