Panamanian tale

Last time we spoke I was with Brian in Costa Rica about to get some food.

Brian hastily left for home, I am once again a lone sailor.

I set sail for the southern Costa Rican border with Panama- by bus. It had been raining for a few days now. As I travelled inland toward the border crossing I realised that the rain had, in addition to making my Carribean holiday wet, flooded the locals. The rivers had swelled at a time when rain this heavy is not expected. Although it is the dry season, the region often experiences heavy falls near full moon. The bus passed flooded farms, flooded animals, flooded open sewers. I saw children wading to their front doors waist deep in grey water. My week was rain affected, but their life was.

I was listening to Johnny Cash when the bus stopped.

The river had completely covered a section of road about 50m wide. The water was flowing, but not at a rate that made it unsafe to cross by foot.I asked the driver how far it was to the border, he said about a kilometre. Whilst the other whiteys on the bus sat waiting for the waters to miraculously part, I followed the ticos to the waters edge and removed my pants, took off my backpack and held it. If I fell I did not want to a 15kg burden.

It was still raining heavily, and as I crossed I felt like a hero. Sad I know, but it is these moments of quasi-achievement that punctuate my trips.

The border crossing down the road was far less challenging. After crossing I travelled to Bocas del Torro, a booming Venice-esque town on a archipelago of islands. Physically beautiful, in recent years it has become very expensive. Real estate in Bocas and sorrounding islands has become the new destination for wealthy foreigners seeking sun and capital appreciation.

The ride through the disused banana canals to the island was memorable, think Apocalypse now minus Marlon and Charlie. Add Daniel and Francois, my new French-Canadian friend with whom I shared an overpriced under kept room.

I spent three nights in Bocas del Torro. Snorkeling, eating seafood, drinking beer swimming and flirting with frogs (little red ones, see below).

Now, I am in Panama City wjher I will spend a couple more days.

Some of you may know my Nana. When Ilse immigrated to Australia more than 50 years ago she came on a boat through the Panama Canal. This morning I went to pay a visit.

Standing on the observation deck above the Miraflores locks on the pacific side it was very cool knowing that Nana had been here. Very cool.

Get your exercise books out.

The Canal is 80km long, it takes most ships 8-10 hours to complete the passage, however including waiting periods ships are usually in transit for 24 hours.

The Canal makes use of existing rivers and wetlands that have been further flooded and deepened to create a passage through the isthmus. Some sections, up to 13km long have been completely cut from solid rock. The project was first envisioned by King Charles V Of Spain in 1534, twenty four years after Christoper Columbus arrived in Panama. The task itself was begun by the French in 1880 but remained unfinished until the Americans bought the rights for $40million in 1904. Ten years later, after thousands of slaves had died, the Canal was finished.

Although primarily Jamaican slaves, some came from Europe, the Americas and of course, Africa. This afternoon I walked into an air-conditioned lobby of an expensive hotel. I asked the man behind the desk where a barber is. He had a creole accent. I asked him where he was from. He told me that his grandfather had 'come' to Panama from Jamaica to work on the Canal where he died of yellow fever, a common fate. We shook hands, he said "Yo bi avin a good trip in di world bra." I then went and had a shave and a haircut for five bucks.

Tomorrow there is a Jazz Festival in the old city. Cannot wait. Will report back to base.

Thanks for tuning in, or out.

Here are a couple if Panamanian cats.