There is always another way

As we were in Panama, we looked for a way to cross the border to reach Colombia and, at first, it seemed all the possibilities will cost us a damn sh*t load of money. We weren't ready to pay those price (350 $ by plane or 450/550 $ on a sailing boat and, frankly, as we looked up the Internet for some inspiration, "the other way" looked very tempting as it was: long, hard to perform and kind of safe. The other way was all about lanchas!

Over there, the lancha is as important as an horse in a very poor village on the land. Those boats are sculpted directly from the trunk of a big tree and the floating line is VERY low. The stability is so-so, but as you trust your driver (:-$), there is no worry. So, we would go for the hard way, but performing all the way down to the frontier in this kind of embarcation is, all together, expensive and wetty. We took then a first class shortcut: the plane. Flying inside of the country isn't so bad in comparaison of international flights and the cost stayed limited (80 $ per head). We would have go for Puerto Obaldia straight, but all flight were booked for (at least) the next month. We checked the closest airport on the Panamean side and finally landed in Molatupo, little carrabean island (so little in fact, the airport is litterally on another island).

From this point, except the spectacular lack of information for a 4 hours delay flight, all was shinny for us: the point of view of the San Blas (the Panamean coast we had to go through) was spectacular. We felt like being Yann Arthus Bertrand.

Yep, that was a small plane

I never said Yann Arthus Bertrand had it easy

Or if I said it, I didn't say it loud...

The airport was really small (only some logs and straws, really) and full of these people with strange habits: the Kunas. Women were wearing very traditional clothes (and shakiras all along their legs and arms), and Men, not so much. We could tell straight away those persons were poor as one of the passengers of our plane had a lancha without motor waiting for her (3 hours of paddling was ahead of them).

Could be 4 hours actually

Finally in the city, we could also tell they didn't lost the North as they were asking for 150$ total to reach Puerto Obaldia: No thank you, we have time, we can find better price...

Some talks at the pier got us into a boat covering half the way for only 6$ each (and the possibility to stay overnight). Followed a good 2h30 of wet water and cold wind to get to the village called Punta Carreto, one of the most conservative indian village of the reserve.

The Kuna colors and sign.

Warm welcome by the army

As we arrived on the beach, nothing could give away we were in the XXI century: no piers, fichermen all over the place, military presence and very old equipment (our motor stopped 4 or 5 times). Apart from the "sophisticated" weapons (a strange mixed of old russian ones and brand new americans) of the army and the old motorboat, you couldn't tell from which of the XV or the XVI century we were.

A real leap in the past.

Panama

Finally talking about what is happening right now is really a pleasure and, therefore, the topic of today is Panama!

We left Costa Rica 10 days ago (from the depressing San Jose, seriously: don't go there) for the party place of Bocas del Toros, located in the region Bocas del Toro. What does this lack of imagination from countries of Latin America means? Quick examples that come to mind are Oaxaca (city), Oaxaca (state) Mexico or Panama (City), Panama (state), Panama (country). I mean... Really? Can't do better than that? And I'm not even talking about the impressive number of city called San Pedro (oupsy, I actually did...).

Any how, going back to an Island in the Caribean is always something... surprising.

First thing first: people seems weirder on those islands (I'm not bullshitting you, we did 3 of them). People are difficult to approach, and they can be aggressive toward you (being insulted in Caye Caulker, Belize, or even got a little cigarette burn on my forearm in Bocas del Toro). They all know each other and, if being in the tourism, are super nice with you.... til' they understand they won't get any money from you, and then, they give you the attitude.

Finally, you have those parties, usually held on a regular basis (every 2 or 3 days) where you usually can't really approach locals til' late in the night when everybody is pretty much drunk. But even then, you'd better be walking on eggshells. The day after this kind of party, the city will behave like a ghost town with people walking goalless.

Another particularity of central America, and even more in Panama, is the Chinese presence. We've seen them owning shops and even restaurant so far, but here, on Bocas, they virtually own EVERYTHING! They are the one building new stuff, having the casinos, the backpackers (even though they hide it pretty well by paying up some locals to run the place, it was obvious the Chinese were behind). I still don't have an explanation for that but locals seem to dislike it doing nothing to prevent it (and of course, I've never seen 1 Chinese during the night parties).

Then, we headed to Panama city (being stopped at night at an immigration office in the middle of the country, I still don't get that...) which was a surprise of wealthiness. Big towers, big cars, big malls, it's like USA all over again. But as a reminder, the numbers say that 40% of the population lives below the poverty line...

Anyway, stunning city if you have $$$ to put on the table and if you have a car (as the pedestrian way are just here to look nice... Wait, they aren't even nice!).

Finally, a little word about prostitution as it appears to be very present in the capital. You can't even stop in the street to eat something without someone proposing the specials services of some Colombian girls, and it seems very difficult to get in discotheque for free without being surrounded by wh*re (literaly). Definitly NOT a place to party...

We are ready to cross the border with Colombia which should be the hardest/longest/most expensive we will have to deal with.

Here are the pictures of Panama so far.

Francois & Damien

Catching up post !

After the Mirador, we had a nice spell in Guatemala. We obviously had a rest in Flores, where the people still wear traditional clothes (mostly women though) and where every sunday is a city's party made of dance and music.

We couldn't go to Semuc Champey, this very rare formation of caves and pools. I won't detail the pool more than this picture: 

What I can say is that we crossed them with a candle and water at our waist (we also had to swim which is much harder than you think having the candle in your teeth and trying to avoid the invisible rocs from behind).

Shemuc Champey

After the Mirador, we had a nice spell in Guatemala:

Lac Atitlan

and Antigua. Then, we did a quick stop in Utila, Honduras to get our certification Open Water.

A crazy funny corean

Finally we were off to Nicaragua in the superbe city of Leon (with a nice trek to the volcano Telica)

Volcano Telica

Volcano's lava!

 and the island Ometepe where we learned how to ride a moto (Youhouuuuu!).

Ometepe

Some biker

During this long travel, I can say many things surprised us:
- The calm of the people in a crowded / late / overheated / noisy / smelly bus.
- The difficulties to remember the name of the people you just met (how hard is that!).
- The border crossing, sometimes easy, always long. We had, at times, to show a fake ticket to prove we would go out of the country.
- All the scams we escape just going out of the bus (pickpocket, taxi driver with very high prices, etc.)
- Big cities are usually populated by a majority of white people, the country side is usually full of indigenous (Mayas / Indians) and the coast inhabited by black people (of slave descent).

Now, from the few travelling tips we learned (if you decide to go around the planet one day), we have some advices for you:
- Always get a second opinion from the people catching you out of a tourist bus. You can either just walk away, but I think the very best option is to talk to the locals on board.
- Always get some food and water for travel. Best choice for us: all sort of peanuts!
- Try to make sure your money/credit cards are not all in the same place.
- Bring some toilet paper with you (it's always very embarrassing when they offer you 4 pieces of toilet paper, and you are all like: "yeeeeaaahh, I would need 6 times this please :)". Or even more embarrassing when the toilet attendant unroll the thing, watching you, trying to evaluated how much the big guy will need...)
- Finally, last piece of advice: never let the people you don't know getting to close to you or even let you touch you. If you react strongly to those things, they will have less opportunity to pickpocket you.

We are now in the nice island of Bocas del Toro, Panama, ready to relax a bit before a big piece of travel, soon to come.

El Mirador: Day 3

Another morning in the jungle, again a slow paced walk and still the guide (sober for once) at the back of the line. The mud and water were there to welcome us with the ants and banana-spiders on the way.

Orchid

As explained by Raul, we quickly arrived to a “small” river that wasn’t that small anymore: from 20 to 50 m large and the deepest point going over 2m50/3m. The cross will be something… We find our way a bit down the river were some branches were stuck and allow us to get an hold on during the cross, and quite frankly, we passed easily even though the currant was strong. Then, the turn of our guide, who was still on his mule waiting the good moment to go through. Everybody is ready to help him out in this ‘not-so-good-idea’.

Well, everybody but me :)

As the mule walk straight to the currant, logs on its left, we tell Raul to get off it. 2 meters later, the mule only has 5 centimeters to breath, and we now shout at him: Get off the freaking mule!! 

Not so sure of himself anymore...

Here you go...

Head in the water, breathe taken away and hopes vanishing little by little, Raul is finally off and in a matter of second, the mule is swept away by the currant, under the logs. Everybody is now tense, searching for the animal down the river. No sign, for what we think of an eternity. No visible bubble, no swirl what so ever. 

Tension

The tension goes away as the desperation take place, but suddenly we can see an ear, soon a second one. The mule is trapped underwater by the leash! With the strength of the last effort, it manages to finally breathe with a terrified look, kicking in the water, trying to swim. Nobody dare to move, it’s still too dangerous to risk to be stunned in the river and we are now waiting for a miracle to happen. The animal won’t be able to keep up this rate longer and will, for sure, collapse of exhaustion. And it happens: the miracle. From nowhere, the mule managed to locked its head into a tree to not go further down the river.

The miracle

But it is in the middle of the river, still kicking. At once, somebody shout that we need to get the leash back and Damien is already swimming against the currant to carefully approach the animal. The risk is high because if the mule frees its head, he might receive a kick, but the good fortune is here to protect us. In my boiling head, the eventuality of seeing my cousin, unconscious, floating and taken away by the current is washed away quickly as Damien reach the closest tree of the mule. He is now out of danger. Everything is still to be done though. He grabbed the leash and throw it to Nick, Adam and I. The mule HAS to cross now, pulled by us, as much as we can. Head out of the water, the last meters are finally crossed and in 30 centimeters of water, it collapsed, exhausted. We finally saved it! The tension goes down as we all take our breath back. 

Saved!

But… Where is the guide? Our little crippled Raul was still hanging on a log, waiting for help and thankful for us to have saved 3000 Quetzales (more or less 300 euros, the equivalent of 5 treks like this for our guide).

Back from a very closed one

We took a lunch well deserved but we all had something in mind at the moment: we were late. And there is something you do NOT want to, it’s to walk in the jungle by night and there is 7 hours waiting for us now: no time to relax. Therefore, we packed our things, and started again. But after a bit, our guide is still not behind us… I had to run back and pulled the mule. Every minutes count now but we are soon back on track at a good pace.

The second river, easier to cross as we are now in control of the trek, is a small detail. We are all tired but pushing to the very end: El Mirador. The closer we get, the more impatient we are. Only one hour and a half away, the rain started. Lightly at first, it wets everything on its path. Speeding up in the end, we got to the camp under heavy rain.

Maybe that’s one of those moments of pure happiness; being in a relatively dry place, hot coffee and even a cigarette.

Totally worth it!