More Panama, Less Mania by Cara
Our second day in Panama was much less crazy but just as enjoyable. Moriah and I rented a kayak and struck out across the disturbingly named Bahía de los Muertos (Bay of the Dead). Thankfully we didn't run across any dead bodies and neither one of us became one either. :P What we did find was beautiful scenery unmarred by scores of sunscreen-slathered tourists.
The next morning, after passing a relaxing day at the hostel on Boca
Brava. We packed up to resume our journey. Destination: Bocas del Toro, a
popular tourist spot on the opposite side of Panama on the Caribbean
Sea. We had to go back to David to get the bus to Boca Brava and the
owner of the hostel, a rather interesting American ex-pat named Brad,
happened to be heading to David that morning. He needed to take two of
his four puppies and their mother to the vet so we piled into first his
boat and then his car with three dogs. Something about us and dogs, I
guess. :P
Another point of God's providence. If we had muddled through trying to
figure out the buses to get to David we probably would have missed the
bus we needed to make it to Bocas del Toro in one day. This bus carried
us through the cool mountains of central Panama which was a welcome
respite after the very hot and muggy Pacific Coast. We got off at
Almirante Bay and were ushered into a cab that took us to the dock for
our water taxi out to Bocas. Bocas del Toro and the areas surrounding
are actually built out on a archipelago in Almirante Bay. We had to
wait for about 15 minutes at the dock and there were some young men
there who were trying to talk to us in broken English. Annoying stuff
like "I wanna be your boyfriend" "I wanna learn English, you teach me?"
When we responded back in Spanish they actually became way less
annoying. When we asked them what they were doing there, they responded
that they were bothering tourists. At least they were honest. :P This
was actually pretty common in Panama, anywhere there was a
transportation interchange there were small groups of men that would
jump up and facilitate the change in a very disorganized manner and with
lots of yelling in Spanish and pointing at stuff. They could also be
found outside buses on the streets of Bocas announcing visits to beaches
and other attractions. We decided their official job titles were
'Panamanian Hustlers'.
Also at the dock we met two young Costa Rican men who were traveling
from Alajuela (outside of San Jose) and passing through Bocas on their
way to Panama City. Not a whole lot happened with them at this point,
other than the fact that Moriah was excited to talk to some Costa Ricans
again after having only seen Panamanians the last few days, but they
are worth noting as they feature later in the story.
Finally the boat arrived and the hustlers set to work stowing everyone's
luggage and telling people where to sit so they could balance the boat
correctly for the roughly 30-minute ride across the bay. Moriah and I
and another slender girl were crammed into the front seat with the
driver who was a stern-looking elderly Panamanian man. Nonetheless I
tried to start a conversation with him and he lit up like a kid at
Christmas at the fact that we could speak Spanish. His name was Beldran
(sp?) and he got a kick out of how many times we said it so that we
could remember it. This is us crammed on the boat.
Thus we arrived in Bocas del Toro, tired but ready for another day of adventure!
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