Somewhere on the Road to Panama City
Another couple of nights in paradise. Yesterday we did no cycling. Instead, all of us, except Fredder, paid the $65 to join a bunch of mostly young international travelers on a white water rafting trip about a 75 mile drive from Boquete, just near the Costa Rica border.
It was a fun adventure but the river wasn't as challenging as we'd hoped, mostly class 2 and 3 rapids, with just a few exhilarating, people ejecting swirls.
We were surrounded by exquisite beauty and paddled beneath overhanging branches inhabited with monkeys, exotic birds, colorful butterflies and more.
We paddled for two to three hours down the sparkling, twisting waters. Halfway, we stopped on the river bank for a picnic feast of fruit, chips and sandwiches. The food was good and the meal provided time to chat with others, many of whom, like the other young people I've described, are out exploring the world. One British couple was five months into their six month honeymoon. Last night they were leaving for Corn Island (many young travelers have that on their itinerary) for a few weeks before finishing up in Cuba. Oh to be young again.
David and I shared one of the smaller rafts with a boat leader and Tom, a 35 year old Catholic priest from Bristol, England. When I mentioned to Tom that I was from Boston, I could see a flicker of a recognition in his face. It was unsaid but he surely understood that Boston was the center of last decade's Catholic Church scandal. It wasn't until later that David, an Irish Catholic himself, and I gently broached the subject with him. It was a brief conversation, mostly about the new church procedures aimed at curbing future child abuse.
We were back at the Marita by 4:30. After quick showers, all of us, except for Margaret again, met down on the balcony of David and Bill's cabin for beers and snacks. The time flew by until 7 p.m. when we went to the castle next door for dinner. The castle is actually a hostel, maybe the nicest one I've ever been in. It's new, spacious and clean and has a variety of private and dormitory rooms. It has a bar, a dining area, an indoor pool, a jacuzzi, a spectacular view, and more. If any of you plan to be in Boquete, I highly recommend it; the Bambuda Castle.
For dinner we were seated at the single large table on the balcony.
There was a nice cool mountain breeze. The six of us (Margaret remained in her cottage for the second straight night) had a lovely dinner delivered from an Italian restaurant in town. I continued to be the food contrarian. I had the vegetarian pasta. The others had the beef pizza. It was two-for-one ice beer night so we consumed quite a few of them.
Throughout the evening we were joined by various people including Dan, the owner from Calgary, Helga, the bartender/manger from Iceland and Ana, a volunteer employee from France. Ana had gone on the rafting trip with us and recommended we go to the hostel to eat. I'm really glad we did.
The men in our group mildly flirted with the Helga and Ana. It was hard not to. Helga, a beautiful 25 year old, spoke impeccable English, bantered with us about which rum drinks were most manly, drank a shot with us, and shared her story about how she came to work in this remote corner of the world. Ironically, Helga also knows Greta, one of Northeastern's former Icelandic soccer players who I know well. I connected with Greta on Facebook to share the coincidence. Small world.
Ana is a bookkeeper, restaurant server, yoga teacher and masseuse at the hostel. She was attentive to our group, pleasantly offering advice, inquiring about our cycling adventure, inviting us to her 6:50 a.m. yoga class (we couldn't attend because we needed to depart at 7:30) and participating in our many splintered conversations. We finished the night with a couple of rum drinks, something that I severely regretted this morning. It was another great evening.
We began today with a quick breakfast followed by a ten mile van ride. From there we hopped on our bikes, turned on a side road and immediately started pedaling uphill towards Baru volcano. The incline wasn't horribly steep but it kept going and going and going. The incline was ten miles long, without respite.
I pushed myself hard on the uphill to clear the cobwebs from the beer and rum. It worked. After an hour I was soaked in sweat but no longer felt foggy. I chugged lots of water, chowed down a few bananas and kept on pedaling, hard. Once I even turned around and rode back a mile just to punish myself further.
In total we road 30 mile, ascending 2,400 feet. For a ride that Fredder had billed as flat, 2,400 feet was a lot, or so it seemed in the hot, soupy humidity.
After dismounting, the bikes were loaded into a pickup truck and taken back to Boquete. We boarded the van for a six and a half hour ride to Panama City where we will get our fourth set of bikes tomorrow.
We stopped in the town of David for lunch. As usual, most of the group had a full plate of rice, beans, plantains, chicken or beef and an assortment of other stuff.
I opted for a yogurt (I broke up a health bar and mixed it in), a Fresca and a coffee negro (I wonder when I get home whether I'll stay with black coffee or switch back to coffee with milk). I also pulled a jar of peanut butter and a small box of crackers from my backpack. The yogurt and peanut butter was just what I wanted but everyone gave me crap about it. My food and internet habits have been a frequent topic of conversation since the beginning. Usually I take the ribbing in good fun, but not always. What I eat and how much use my iPhone can be a sensitive subject for me.
We are slated to arrive in Panama City at 6:30 p.m.
I imagine we will have a fun night on the town.
Tomorrow we will circle the city on bikes and finish up at the Panama Canal. The canal has always been on my bucket list. I can't wait to finally see it, one of the great man made wonders of the world.
Until tomorrow.
Jorge
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Location:Boquete, Panama
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