**Note:  This is a collection of posts strung together over the course of a few days without an internet connection.**

Today, January 16th, I awoke a little earlier than usual. Perhaps I knew in the back of my mind that I didn’t want to head out to Olgas’ property late in the day when the sun was high. Got my car out of the parqeo while I could, went over to get a coffee, and came back for a morning shower. The morning shower, up until today, was been sort of a shock treatment, but I think I am now quite used to having a cold shower, and down here, quite prefer it.

Feeling much more awake, I took myself over to Olga’s room and knocked on the door. Geez…, she is all set up in there with a coffee maker, crock pot, little plants, internet, printer (which I borrowed the use of later to print my boarding passes), and internet telephone, not to mention that her shower had one of those suicide heads on it for hot water. I was a little jealous, but hey, this is the owners sister. She should be set up nice. After a little back and forth banter and a coffee from her machine, we set out on the way to her place about 1/2 hour from here.

The road towards her area is surrounded by sugar cane fields, but after turning off the road, it gave way to little fincas with mostly cattle, corn or rice, and just before a bridge in the midst of construction, was her finca.

A beautiful little slice of land, set alongside a steadily rolling stream about 20 ft across, running the length of two sides of her property. At the front was a massive tree I couldn’t name, but is of the type that continually shoots down new “trunks” into the ground to expand its base. Being some 8 ft in diameter, and some 60 ft across at the widest point of its growth, I called it “the kick-ass shade tree”, underneath which she plans to build her house.

We basically walked the fence line snapping pictures here and there, making mental notes of the sun, time of day, and available shade considerations for future building. She has got herself on helluva nice piece of land, IMO, with the only downside being the low elevation of the land so it is relatively humid, and no available internet connection at that point in time. However, with the building of the bridge comes development, and eventually, telephone lines.

My eye saw the very easy potential for hydro power, and with it, complete independence from the grid (aside from that internet problem), and my head was once again set to reeling upon having a place of my own down here. Ah well, these things will just have to wait for opportunity to present itself as, for the patient, there is always another. Glad to have my corporation.

It was a nice change to spend the day talking English, and add to that our common interest and thoughts on many things I don’t regularly find people in agreeance with. Except to say that I have found an exponential growth over the past few years in awareness of these similar topics, from almost none, I’ll leave it at that.

I think I will wait here until the weekend is over before heading out to Boca Brava. Weekends are usually busy, and the room selection limited, so it is best to arrive against the tide when looking to be comfortable. I hear his prices haven’t changed much at all.

———————————-

I went to another movie tonight, Seven Pounds. What a tear-jerker, however Will Smith was completely out of his usual character, looking older and tired. That was probably the reason I found it interesting in the first place. He will probably turn out to be a very good actor given time.

This evening was the first time I was able to wear jeans without cooking in my skin. The rain a few days ago cooled things off, and it has been partly cloudy since then in the afternoons, with a nice breeze.

This is the first evening of writing where I don’t have a single thing to do tomorrow to ponder upon. Not even things I can make up.

The market seems to have recovered from it’s initial selling pressure brought on by index fund re-balancing, but it is also looked as though it was merely coming back up to tag the uptrend line. Obingo takes his seat in less than a week, and I sort of expect softness to continue through that period. It was a full moon when I got here, and gold was doing it’s usual dance around that time, tending to react violently three days either side of, and trending to the next. It has been doing so for well over three years now, with very few exceptions. It’s a wonder I haven’t made more money at this… and believe me, I know just how that previous sentence sounds.

Not much else to say at this point.

———————————

Saturday, today, so far, has been spent at leisure. I got the car out, always an ordeal, and drove down to that spot by the river I mentioned earlier, and sat there wondering what to do with myself. After a bit of musing, I decided it was time to go for a drive up into the hills, so I pointed the car towards the border and hit the gas, not being sure of anything in general, but that I wanted to explore some. Where I ended up is the same spot I have visited a few times in the past. Once, just getting lost on purpose, once to look at property, and this time just to escape the heat and humidity of David.

I don’t know when I left David this morning, but I is now 4:30 and I just had my shower after returning. I just can’t get over what a difference the elevation makes in your comfort level, and I was wishing for an altimeter to know at just what elevation things start to change toward my liking. At the top, at I’m guessing 900 meters, I parked my ass on a rock on the edge of a clearing bulldozed out for a future house. It was about 24 C, relatively dry, and overcast with a breeze. Comfortable to the extreme.

The views from this perch were absolutely fantastic. I found myself regretting that I hadn’t brought my camera, but remembered that I had taken pictures from this spot before, and they did the scenery no justice whatsoever. You just have to be there to absorb it, and it’s a shame that, to this day, I haven’t been able to share this with anyone because of a myriad of lame ass excuses. Not including air-fare or costs for car repairs, I have spent just under $300 USD since I left Edmonton. Two weeks down here, air included could easily be done for $1500. Pocket change. Ah well, enough of that.

—————————————

Yeah, enough of that.

Today I went out to what I thought was Playa Barqueta, for the first time. I hadn’t heard great things about this beach, but I have been here for over a week now and haven’t set foot in the ocean. That still hasn’t changed as I write this. I took some convoluted route that had me doing zig-zags through small town after town, with my only assurance being that I was still going downhill. This was the adventure I was looking for yesterday.

I finally found a sign that said Playa Barqueta 12.8 km, and headed down a road I thought should have been in Mexico. At the end was the beach, finally. I drove to the westernmost point, where there seemed to be some activity, and parked the car, avoiding the $3 shaded parking. Bah! Past that point was a gated community, and no access for us simpletons.

I got out to go survey the scene. The beach was nice enough, with fine sand that you sunk into, and there seemed to be good waves for body surfing. About 100 people in all populated that end of the beach, but it looked like garbage from 500 strewn all over the place. As I looked around, there wasn’t a single tree anywhere near the beach to hang a hammock in, but more importantly, no shade at all for this pale boy from Edmonton. Since I have been here, my forearms and face have been the only parts of me to see the sun, and my legs are still white enough to scare most chickens. Any time spent in the full on sun of Panama has to be broken with periods of shade. Heat stroke lays just around the corner for me until I gain a decent tan.

I strolled back to the car and drove to the other end, a stretch of blacktop called Las Olas had, perched like dominoes, a few solitary houses along it’s length. This was accompanied by a larger condominium style complex just prior. The “gate” laid open, and I rolled down to the end of the road, where it stopped like it ran out of money. That was the impression of this whole end of the beach. I got out, picked my way through the tripwire sandgrass (seriously, you had to consciously lift your feet with each step or risk a face plant), to see a similar, although cleaner, scene. Unfortunately, after all that driving, it was just too freakin’ hot, and should I ever come again, it would not be without a beach umbrella. Without much disappointment, I started my way back. To be honest, I was more enjoying driving than anything else.

This time, as I thought I would, I found the right road into David, and made it back in about 1/2 hour. I made mental notes along the way so as to save myself that headache again, and it wasn’t until I was talking to Jon on the balcony that I was informed I had not found the right place. As far as I am concerned, there are much better beaches to be had here, and will file it under “Some Other Time”.

I hit another flick this evening, killing off a couple of hours, and saw “Yes Man” with Jim Carey. Or at least that’s what I thought…. The “Ci Senor” should have been the tip-off, but I realised it was dubbed in Spanish when the movie started playing. I thought, “What the hell… let’s see if I can understand it.” I got most of the basics, enough to follow along, finding myself laughing with the rest of the crowd in the right places. For me, that was pretty good news, as any time prior following Spanish TV was a mystery.

Tomorrow I am headed out to Boca Brava, and can hardly wait to see this paved road I have been hearing about, not to mention finally getting into the ocean. There aren’t any waves around there within walking distance, but the sun and the quiet are what I am most looking forward to. And let’s not forget the great food they have at the restaurant there. My mouth just started watering…

I have had the hammock hanging up out back here for a few days to air out, and now everything is packed in the car ready to go first thing in the morning. A quick breakfast, gas up, stop at a bank machine, and away I go. It’s time for a change of scene.

—————————————-

Monday morning I left David with few complications. A few bank machines were out, but there are no lack of banks to choose from down here, so it was a 20 minute inconvenience at best. It was good to get out on the road again, over familiar area, and for the first time, I didn’t miss the turn at the top of the hill for Boca Chica, the town at the end of the road.

The new paved road isn’t the best they have ever done, equivalent to a secondary road in most countries, but it was infinitely better than the first time I ever came out this way. There was only one corner that was missing pavement, right by someones’ house, still choked in road dust, that gave me scare enough to just utter the sentence “Aw crap, I knew it..” before I saw the edge to the continuing pavement. Phew! The time it took from David can now be counted in minutes instead of hours. Forty-five, to be precise.

Once there, I found the church, found the person to talk to for storage, and was in a boat skipping across to Boca Brava in less than 10 minutes. Heading into the restaurant to get a room, I was surprised to be recognized from the year before, and even called by name. Julio was still working the bar, like he had never left, and some of the staff I recognized, but it was clearly a busier place now.

Going against the weekend tide worked to some extent. Over the weekend I was told they had served 400 over Sunday alone in their restaurant. Enough to eat the paying guests out of their dinner. Ha! Growing pains, for sure. I had to cough up for a $40 room with A/C and TV for one night, and hope for a downgrade the next day. Fine, ok. I’ll leave it to the wind.

I got settled, showered, and made my way to the beach by way of Julios’ little house here. Christina was still serving up her version of hospitality on the beach, and got a kiss on the cheek for just being there. She is such an experience, that one. It felt a little like coming home, sitting again in her plastic chairs, drinking mildly cold pop poured out of the 2L bottle at 50c a glass. LOL. Her roof repairs from the year before were holding up well, and as I sunk further and further into that little chair, the push and shove of David drifted far off and away into the hazy afternoon heat of a day forgotten, on a beach with no want or need of a clock, years in the past, and a life with little concern of anything out of eyesight.

By the time I returned to my room I realised how exhausted I was, had to rouse myself to go and eat, and it was nice to watch a few movies that night, belly full, after spending the day decompressing.

—————————————

This morning was all about changes. People trying to organise room changes, some upgrading, some down grading, bla bla bla… I just packed my bags in the morning, got things ready to go, and went for breakfast to see what happened for me. A few cups of coffee (I’m now back on it), the going omelette, and I got my wish for the $13 room without any of the fuss. I moved my bags, grabbed the backpack with water, book, and hammock, and set off to the beach early enough to find my favourite spot under a low lying tree, set my hammock properly, place a flat-top rock in the sand for sitting and drying off, and went for my first swim in the ocean since I got here. Oh, so much better than Playa Barquetta (or wherever the hell I was).

I must have had three swims and read 50 pages before I wandered over to Christinas’ hut to say hello. As the day wore on, more and more people showed up, some British, some Scandinavian, some German, some French (oh well), and the usual compliment of locals. None matter much to me in my perfect little paradise, but a bunch of us played frisbee for long enough to get my heart rattling in my chest, and that same dog from last year, now full grown, tired himself out chasing our throws.

I wandered off sometime after the heat of the day, my shoulders and chest a light pink though I had taken very short stints in the sun, and headed back for a shower. On my way I noticed that the line that carries water from several wells, dug at strategic points on the island, up the hill to the main holding tanks was busted, and spilling water freely. I’ve been in Panama long enough to know that a problem like that is everyone’s concern, especially on this island, so I made it known when I got to the restaurant. I found myself recruited to help remedy it with one of the workers, and got my first tour of the island in their tough little 4×4. I wasn’t put out at all. After looking through buckets and bags of elbows and unions of all different sizes, we found a fix, and I set him on his way knowing where and what, and being glad, not only that I could help, but that all would have water for supper, showers, and comfort. I gave myself a little pat on the back, ruff, and went for a shower.

This evening at dinner I was accompanied by Hootie the Owl. That is my name for this pest of a man whom I met the year before, who this evening welcomed himself to my table as a certified woman repellant, with belly gargantuan, long white beard, oversized bi-focal glasses, and attempted attention with an incredible ability to babble on about all things uninteresting. Hootie went on to say that for the last four years he has worn shirts with Canadian cities on them because it was easier to get around that way than letting people know he was from the states. I told him I hoped they charged him three times the price for those shirts, and made no apologies. Looking at his wife, I think he has gotten what he deserves. May she live a long time…

In spite of this detriment, I met up with a couple from Finland who had an amazing penchant for the very same curses of their winter cold. Our countries’ latitudes are very similar, but that they are closer to the ocean, and their winters offer the same wonderful range of frozen hell as ours. The guy was hilarious, even over Hooties repeated attempts to talk about Obingo’s inauguration, and I hope to see them in the morning.

With an emotional potpourri, I learned today that my natural Mother had passed away after a long fight with Cancer. I am thankful I knew her, am grateful she decided to have me, am relieved her suffering is now over, am sad I could not put off my being here any longer, am hopeful she was proud of me, and happy I was able to see her again before I came down here. No one dies until they are forgotten. There are simply no new memories. The future will sift them through. Still, it’s difficult to own a smile right now, and being here alone… I’m glad I’m not drinking anymore. Thank you Wendy. You gave me, then added to, my life and I intend to go on celebrating it.

I’ll begin tomorrow.

——————————————

Today was such a different day than any I have spent here. Mostly overcast with breaks in the clouds here and there, but never gaining the heat I was used to. After the sun I got yesterday, it was a good recipe for the day, and I spent it doing pretty much a repeat of yesterday.

I was still unable to get an internet connection through my LAN line up at the restaurant. A little frustrating as I wanted to download the slew of e-mails I have received over the past few days. Otherwise, not a whole lot to say today. Quite tired right now and at twenty past seven, my lids are getting heavy.

——————————————

It’s a good thing I went to bed when I did. I slept the whole night though, and was awake at breakfast at 9. That is at least 12 hours with my head on the pillow. I can’t remember the last time I did that. Feeling refreshed, I thought I’d take my “bed in a bag” down to a gazebo sitting at the bottom of a long set of stairs out the back of a fishing house still under construction along the path to the beach. There is very little of this part of the island that I didn’t explore last year, and this is one of those spots that only I seem to know about. The rewards of an exploratory mind, it sits right on the waters edge where you can watch the boats go by and wonder how long it would take to recognise every boat that passes.

I hung my hammock and stayed there reading, off and on, until just after noon, and then climbed the daunting set of stairs back to the main path. I should have counted the steps, am sure I did last year, but there is no going all the way in one stretch. Strategic pauses in the shaded areas were a must.

I was nearly out of water, and finding none at the house at the top, I had to return for more before heading to the beach for a swim. You can see what a complicated life I now lead. Where to hang my hammock, how many hours of water remaining. It’s critical to know the things most important around here, y’see. $13 for the room, $5 for breakfast, $7 for supper, so an average cost here on this island is $25/day unless you take a $25 boat tour to an island for the day. Then things really add up. Did I mention they add in lunch for that price?

There seems to be a daily clientele turnover of about 30%, with every day bringing new faces. Most are couples, however, and it can well and truly suck to be the only single guy. It’s not enough to have me leave. Sunday night is my 7th day, and that is free here leaving only food to pay for, so Monday will probably be my last morning here.

I going to have to put in some serious thought as to how things will proceed the few days prior to my flight out of here. Hotel Marparaiso has a shuttle going to the airport. Just writing that down while I remember it.

I will have to get myself into Panama City Sunday sometime, but what to do with myself while I wait for my flight. I’ll have to check the roster for buses into Panama City when I return to David. If I can catch a 6 PM bus out of there, then that leaves a cab ride from the terminal to the airport where I can cool my heels until lift-off. No matter how I slice it, it will be a looooong day. I just have to remember that I’m saving $750 doing this.

————————————–

No further thought was put into that today. Instead, I set out early for David to refresh my cigar supply, glad for a little change from the routine, and accompanied by a couple from South America who were heading onward to Guatemala via all the other countries in between. We stopped just before David so I could show them my maps and point out some areas of interest.

I gave Dave a call. He is in the middle of turning a 40′ sea can into a “mobile home” of sorts. He says he has almost finished sheet-rocking the inside, plans to install a kitchen, bath, shower, tile the floor, cut in some windows, and voila, trailer trash! He always was a bit of a nut, but a “doer” not a “talker”, so I will have to wait and see for myself what it all looks like. I have to admit I’m now curious.

A short stop at the right store, and I began my return at a leisurely pace, simply enjoying the drive. For the second time, I didn’t miss the turn at the top of the hill, and made my way to the end in 1/2 hour. Nice. It turned out, by the way, that the house where I had my car parked is owned by one of the workers at the restaurant, a nice “by chance”.

 

At the dock, just before boarding, a taxi arrived and in got two girls from Switzerland. Nice, literally. After waiting for them to get settled into a room, we made our way back down to my favourite beach for a swim. They said that they had been over in Bocas del Torro, on Isla Colon, and the weather they had was horrible. Rain rain rain. I think the beach they found here was just what they were looking for.

After a while in my hammock, I wandered over to Christinas’ tienda to chat, and finally received a proper lesson from Franks’ wife on just how to open a coconut using a machete. First cut off the top, then the bottom, then the husk in between by making cuts along the length, followed by glancing slices from the top. There is more to it than that, but I’m happy to say that I finished with all my fingers still attached, and a new respect for the toughness of a coconut husk. The most important rule is to keep your thumb IN! That was followed by a lesson on how to pick a good one, where both the milk and the meat are sweet, along with identifying different species.

Ity, Franks’ wife, is Panamanian, and the cook that makes the kitchen here what it is. The entire lesson was given in Spanish, along with constant teasing and harassment of me feo espanol, which was not at all to be taken as insult. I still have a lot to learn. Even though a little frustrating at times and certainly humiliating in front of several women, with conscious effort the help was appreciated, and a few more useful changes have been made, once again proving that pride is one of life’s greatest impediments.

After Christina closed up shop, and the Swedes had returned from their walk, we walked back together. Along the way Ity showed me her house, with one of the best views from the island I have seen. She had a dozen or so birds nesting in the tree right out her second story balcony. These were of the variety that make their nest in what looks like a hanging bag of twigs. I completely forget their name, as my head was pretty full of “new” already, but, dare I say it, they were cool looking birds. Who would’ve ever thought I’d give a rats ass about that?

Frank and his wife are sort of “splitzville” right now, and I was a little unsure of what to think of her attention, but hey, WTF, this is Panama and I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Most times it’s just better not to think too much about things, but to keep an even keel. This place is way to good to mess up.

I spent another calculated amount of time in the sun today, and am starting to get a decent looking tan. At least that is what I say to myself until I stand right out in the sun and look pale as a ghost. LOL Still, little by little, and without a burn, is the best way to go, which is more than I can say for my Finnish friends who are both burned after fishing in an open boat. Ouch! People just don’t believe until they prove it to themselves. I’m no different much of the time.

———————————–

Well, one of the last days here. I really should have had my camera today as the scene at Christinas’ little palace was worth a picture or two, but I haven’t thought about my camera at all this trip. I awoke late, as I had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning talking to my neighbour in this little dorm.

10 o’clock and I was up at breakfast, a little bleary eyed and confused, paid up the bill so I could properly account for things over the next few days, and started making my way to the beach as usual. There was a northerly wind today, so once again I was happy to not have been persuaded into a boat trip out to Ballenos. The ride back would be terrible, bouncing all over the place and getting soaked completely after a hot day at the beach.

I forgot my water, that is how hair-brained I was, so once I got there I had to beg glasses of water from Christina on the sly so people didn’t know that she had tap water for free. I wouldn’t want to disrupt her business, y’see.

I was finally finished my book so sitting in the hammock didn’t have the appeal it used to, so I just went over and sat as Casa de Christina for the rest of the day. Germans, Italians, Swedes, Finns, yankees and Canadians made for a veritable salad of languages, each sharing their travels and fishing stories. Jim, retired from the Navy having spent the last 6 years sailing around wherever, finally resurfaced with his new captive, a woman from Seattle. He got just a little ribbing on the side, and joined the group, dancing to salsa music with the everybody in spurts. Even the dogs joined in.

After the sun fell over the trees and the beach was full in shade, the wind had died down, everything was calm as could be, and we took turns excusing ourselves for the walk back home and a shower. The conversation over dinner centred around travel plans over the next few days. I think I may try a day at Las Lahas, just over an hour from here. I saw pictures of the place today, and figure I might just give it a try.

There, again, I’ll let the morning decide. I’m typing this sitting out in the ceremonial plastic chair of Central America, in front of my room, listening to the sounds of the night. I really will miss this place when I return to David. There hasn’t been another place like it that I have found in Panama. I hope it stays as it is for a while longer, but change is the only constant in life. Yadda yadda yadda…

Not much more to say today. So be it.