Panama City, Tocuman International Airport
My alarm was set for 3:55 a.m. but as is usual when I travel, I woke up well before then. I was out of bed around 3, killed some time before heading down to the lobby at 4:00, 15 minutes early. My driver was already waiting for me. Alriiiight!!!
We were at the airport by 4:30. After giving the driver a $10 tip on a $30 fare (he almost fainted), I went inside, checked my bag, breezed through security (full water bottle and all), and headed for the Copa Club, where I am now sitting outside the door, waiting for its 5:30 opening. There's a young traveler across from me, lying on the tile floor, head propped up by his sleeping mat, snoring like a grizzly, clutching his backpack as if it's full of uncut diamonds. It's probably just his dirty laundry.
I have a 7:15 flight to Miami where I will have a couple hour layover before flying on to Boston. It's been a great trip but I'm looking forward to getting back. There's no place like home.
We arrived in Panama City early Saturday night. We were dropped off at our modest (I'm being nice) hotel, took a quick shower and headed out for dinner. We walked along the Malecon to a loud, outdoor, fenced in seafood restaurant a couple of miles away. The Malecon, just like the one in Havana, Cuba, is a wide walkway along the waterfront near the city center. There is a stone wall where friends and lovers hang out. On Saturday nights, it is mostly families; strolling, sitting, eating and hanging out. There were vendors selling food, chiclets, flowers, lighted gadgets, souvenirs and almost anything else you can think of. It was well after dusk and the modern skyscrapers illuminated the sky, their colorful reflections glistening in the Gulf of Panama.
I could have hung out there all night but the others were famished, walking at a brisk pace to get to dinner.
I was a bit put off by Fredder's restaurant choice. I told him that I didn't eat seafood, but he lost sight of that in his excitement to have some himself.
There is a back story to Fredder and his restaurant selections. Early in the trip he made a big deal of the fact that he stood his ground against Intrepid Travel, saying that he wouldn't work unless his compensation included three paid meals per day.
Despite Fredder's paid meals, throughout the trip, he has selected restaurants, many of them quite drab, on the basis of whether his meal would be comped for bringing in the group. I'm fine with him making an extra buck, especially when he makes just $40 per day. However, I'd rather he research the restaurant options better or allow us in on the decision-making.
At the seaside restaurant, while the others ordered large plates of king shrimp, red snapper and seafood platters, I nursed a couple of Balboa beers and a Diet Coke. It didn't have to be like that. We could have easily found a restaurant with a wider menu.
Moreover, I wonder whether Fredder has been pocketing a portion of the snack budget. Other bike touring companies are extreme in their snack offerings with their vans frequently setting up tables of fruit, crackers, cheeses, candy, juices and lots of other stuff. On this trip, we usually have a snack stop once, for a piece or two of fruit. Sometimes its bananas. Other times it's watermelon, papaya or pineapple. Yesterday, because he didn't go to the grocery store beforehand, Fredder stopped our van so he could run in and buy us each a granola bar.
I would expect, in these hot and humid conditions they would provide lots more sustenance along the way. I'm told that other Intrepid tours do. Why not this one?
Yesterday, Sunday, we had another early start. We were picked up by the van and transited 30 minutes to the Soberania National Park, a huge wildlife reserve south of the city. We were planning on taking a leisurely 20 mile bike ride through the park but as bad luck would have it, it was closed. It was Earth Day, they were having their annual celebration and weren't allowing cyclists in.
Instead, we ventured up a two lane road for about 45 minutes to the Rainforest Discovery Center. It was a nice ride albeit with some occasional, manageable car traffic.
We turned on to a short, two kilometer rocky, dirt road and made our way up to the registration area where we dismounted. Fredder spent some time adjusting Bill's gears. He then hopped on the bike and took off down the road. We thought he was testing the gears but in fact he was retracing the route to the tarmac road where the van was parked. He wanted his trusted telescope and tripod for our bird exploration. 10-15 minutes later he was back, sweating profusely from his round trip sprint to the van.
Upon his re-arrival, Margaret declared that she wanted her iPhone camera, which also, was back in the van. It was an odd declaration, one of unabashed entitlement. Not for a nanosecond did she consider how Fredder would feel about making another round trip to the van or about us, who would have to wait again, in the stifling humidity.
As you can imagine, her demand didn't go over very well. Fredder politely resisted. Margaret had a bit of a tantrum about it. Her husband, John, had his compact Canon camera with him for her to share. For Margaret, that wouldn't suffice. She wanted her own three year old iPhone and she wouldn't back down.
As we've seen before on this trip, John's mild protest to Margaret's behavior was met with a harsh counter-blast. Ouch. As someone else on the trip said, "That man has qualified for sainthood ten times over".
We all remained quiet to the drama. Good ol Fredder, hopped back on his steed for another trip to the van. When I quietly whispered to John, "Why can't she use your camera?", he simply replied; "Don't ask." It was the only time I ask him about her. I would loved to have learned more. OMG.
After Fredder returned the second time, he caught his breath, bought a Coke and then set off to the trail. We followed for what ended up being an hour avian tour.
Fredder's bird knowledge far exceeds that of anyone I've ever met. It's his passion and he lights up when he talks about the various species and their unique habits. Birding, if that's what you call it, is not my thing. However, I am happy to go along, appreciate the color and sounds and watch Fredder bask in his jungle glory.
I must say, Fredder has this incredible knack for being able to see small birds and animals, unmoving, through dense brush, at great distances. It's uncanny. When he sees one, he whips out the scope, sets it up and focuses it, so that we can enjoy parts of the Central American animal life that we otherwise would never see.
Before we were done, we saw a variety of hummingbirds,
toucans and blue crown mot mots. 😊 We also saw a few anteaters, monkeys, sloths and butterflys. The best part of the tour was climbing the tower that rises above the tree canopy. The view of the surrounding area was spectacular.
When back on our bikes, we retraced our route back to the national park where we got on the van and departed for the Panama Canal.
The Canal was out of this world, just like you would imagine. Three huge locks and 48 miles connecting the Atlantic and Pacific oceans.
This engineering marvel saves ships 6,000 miles of extra travel, significant expense and probably countless annual lives, avoiding the dangerous straights around Cape Horn below South America.
We stayed at the Canal for a few hours, had lunch, toured the museum and waited for large ships to go through the locks. Simply amazing.
Last night we had our "Last Supper". Most of us ate steak, prepared in different styles. The beer flowed, once again. David presented our group tip, with some generous remarks. Fredder responded in kind, acknowledging each of us with a personal antidote. Both acknowledged that mistakes were made along the trip. Appropriately, the mistakes were described as learning opportunities, a nice way to position them.
Another great adventure is now in the books with new friends, rich memories and an sprouting excitement for my next adventure, wherever that might be.
Thanks loyal readers for following along and for your notes along the way.
Adios amigos.
-Jorge
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Location:Panama City, Panama
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