Today in Antigua

This morning both John and I were up early. John had been thinking of doing some baking so he figured out the ingredients needed and we set out first for breakfast and then for groceries that he needed. It was about sixty degrees when we began our trek for the town square.

The picture to the right is a portion of the block-wide Palacio del Capitanes on the entire sourthern perimeter of the park. Its construction is somewhat unstable and cars are not permitted to drive in front of the edifice. However, pedestrians walk freely before its entrance and enter for business.

We walked in the direction of the Parque Central which was very near to a restaurant whose name in English would be the Countess. Today is Thursday and at this very place we opted to eat there is a weekly gathering of North American ex-pats. We walked quickly past the table which was marked "reservado" and found our own table in another room. Somehow or another, a group of ex-pats does not beckon to me. Nor was John interested in joining them. Why seek something like that when away from the USA? One can have that one-hundred percent of the time while at home.

I had a cheese and bacon omelet and John struggled through a very soggy couple of pieces of French toast. It reminded me of the very worst milk-toast that I had ever been served. He managed to eat about four-fifths of the serving. Along with each of our mains, we were served fresh fruit and I had whole-wheat toast. We lingered over our tea and coffee for the better portion of an hour before we decided to rise from our perches. But, before doing that, I managed to give sustenance to a large, squawky black bird. He (or she) was delighted with the repast.

In the Central Park one can find a fountain pictured to the left which today was decorated with roses. It was the first time I had seen it adorned in such a manner. The water spouts from the paps of four sirens which are appointed in a way that water issues to each of the four directions of the globe. I have included an image so that you too may enjoy the flowers, of course.

The church to the right of this narration is one that used to be a cathedral but is no longer designated as such even though it is still referred to as the Cathedral. It is still a church and abuts the central park on the eastern perimeter.

Known as Saint Joseph Cathedral (Catedral de San José), it is an important center of worship here in Antigua. The original edifice was constructed around 1541, but suffered several earthquakes throughout its history, and the original church building was completely demolished in 1669. The cathedral was rebuilt and consecrated in 1680. By 1743 the cathedral was one of the largest in Central America. However, the devastating 1773 Guatemala earthquake seriously damaged much of the building, though the two towers at the front remained largely intact. These have undergone restoration work, and the cathedral has been partly rebuilt.
   
From this area, we walked in a westward direction about four blocks until we reached the Bodegona, our super market in this village. John walked about the various shelves and selected maybe five or six items which we gathered together and headed for the check-out. We used double plastic bags in order to avoid disappointment on our way home. For the privilege of using plastic here, we pay a few cents for each bag. Most shoppers bring their own shopping containers and bags, whether to the Bodegona or to the central metropolitan market. And, Thursday is the important day for market. Both Ruth and Daisy are still over at the central metropolitan market fumbling through the wares. They will come laden with this week's bounty. Fruits and vegetables from the market are all processed when they arrive at home through two or three baths before they are fit for our consumption here. One never does a quick rinse from the faucet here. No, no, no!

On the way back home, we stopped briefly at what used to be a very good coffee and sweet shop run by the YWAM folks. It folded due to the questionable economy and lack of adequate support and a religious organization, the Camino, took it over. They serve breakfasts and lunches during the day and have a large space behind the restaurant area where bi-lingual services are held on Sundays at 10:30 (for two hours) and another service also on Thursday evenings.

From there we ambled up to La Merced church (pictured at left) where John and I entered for a walk-about. I was interested in knowing when the alfombra would be constructed inside the church. These are large displays containing colored sawdust, flowers, fruit, vegetables, etc. that are done in connection with Holy Week. Actually, the celebrations here begin immediately after Lent with processions, velaciones, alfombras, parades, bands and many other activities all in commemoration of the events leading up to Easter. It is a time when La Antigua bursts at the seams. One can be caught up in the fray too. There is much ado here during these weeks. Some of the long-time residents stay away while others join each year in the gala.

We found no alfombra and just a mere handful of the faithful lighting candles and saying their prayers before papier mache statues that never, ever talk back. But most of them have horribly sad countenances so there seems to be very little joy in their mute portion of that communion. I was just saying!

Outside the cathedral and with my baseball cap on again, I stopped at the entrance to the portion of the church which is a museum and asked when the alfombra would be constructed. We were in good fortune because I was told that this very afternoon at one would be the commencement of this soon-to-be masterpiece. I promise to photograph it in its infancy as well as its maturity for you to enjoy too. We noticed that, just like the siren fountain, the fountain adjacent to La Merced was beautified with roses. Another object that I shall record and share with you.

Then back to the Philippi compound where John has already begun his baking. He is allocating some of his time and talent to produce goodies that can be eaten by Ruth who is gluten and lactose intolerant. Of course there will be the majority output with all the poison additives for the rest of us. Now, the question is, who will live the longer?

I returned later in the day as I had found that the church should be opened and I had heard that there should also be an alfombra. The last time I had been in this church at Semana Santa, there had been a huge alfombra covering a good portion of the front right side of the church. It was done in mostly blacks, whites and grays.

Upon entering the little park surrounding the church, I saw that the flowers were as pretty as usual. I got to the church around half past two and I asked a group of ladies what time the doors were supposed to be opened. They told me at three. So, I waited and hopped up once or twice to photograph the fountain with flowers. There were vendors seated about the area and one approached me with a broad smile and offered me things to purchase.

I told her that I was not buying anything today but perhaps another day. She told me her name and said that I could always find her at the church. I told her that I would be looking for her.

Later in the month and nearer Good Friday, this park will be teaming with vendors and the walkways about the church will be packed with folks trading Quetzales for food and trinkets. But, today it was different and I joined an elite group in the park who were intent in some cases to sell while others were ready to worship and pray.

At precisely three p.m., the two large doors swung open and I followed the first entrant, a lad, into the sanctuary. I walked up the center aisle and went to the area where I had previously on another year observed the enormous alfombra. And, sure enough...there I spotted the first one for this year. This time it was in many colors and it had neither vegetables nor fruit in its design. This one represented the elements used in the rite of Communion.

 

The carpet consisted of three panels and, in total, its size might have been twenty-four feet wide by eighteen feet in depth. This will not be the only carpet so constructed in the La Merced church during the days leading up to Easter. I will try to catch them as they change and share them with you. They are different every year and are worthy of note.

Panama City to David and on to San Jose, Costa Rica and Guatemala City

Our cab driver dropped us at the front entrance to Allbrook airport (this airport was once a US facility when the US had control over the Canal Zone). Since we had depleted all of our stash of US dollars, I ran into the airport and used the ATM the final time in Panama to grab some dollars. Went out and paid the driver USD10 and entered the half of the terminal devoted to Air Panama. Our bags were checked first by security and then we were sent to the desk to check-in for our flight. We had a quick check-in and were told to await the call for our final screening just prior to boarding. We waited until just minutes before the scheduled time of departure and responded to the announcement that we could pass through the sensors. We did so and took our places within the small lobby inside security. We had arrived at the airport at about half past seven and we were assigned check-in numbers of 5 and 6 so we were among the early arrivals. We waited another hour and nothing seemed to happen except that the wee lobby began to fill until there were no longer seats for the new-comers. Other flights for the same operator seemed to be operating as there were some who departed and some more who quickly filled their places. Finally, there was an announcement in Spanish that those of us who were bound for David should check our boarding numbers and if they happened to be in the sequence of from one to twenty-four, we should line up after the fine young lady who was standing at the door. We lined up and soon were issued out to a plane whose capacity might have been 35. You see, although not among the 24 individuals who were holding passes indicating that they were the chosen ones, there were three "very important" families with darling wee children who were included in our group. We did not ask and we were not told what special booty they possessed. But, the fact is, we made it on the plane and we were soon airborne and headed for David. And, so were the special three families. Of course they bore smiles.

We were in the air perhaps fifty minutes before we began to circle the airport for landing. Once on the ground in David, we were issued into the airport where we had previously been and had at that time encountered an Officer Willett. This time we had no bags other than our backpacks and we were met by a friendly representative of Air Panama and not Officer Willett who asked for all fliers in transit to San Jose to please follow him. We did and were checked into our continuing flight to San Jose. We paid departure taxes of USD10 each, filled out departure forms and were soon at the window where the passport person stamped our exit from Panama and took our exit immigration forms. Then, the backpack through the sensors and we were waiting once again for the next leg of our flight.

Our flight was announced and those of us awaiting our flight walked out onto the tarmac and boarded our flight. This leg was approximately one and one half hours in duration and our aircraft, as were all of the other ones in the country of Panama, was a propeller-driven craft. On the aircraft, we were given entry immigration papers to complete for our subsequent  and penultimate stop in Costa Rica.

We pulled into San Jose without delay and were soon lined up for the immigration and aduana stops. I had marked my entry papers as passenger in transit as we were continuing on another airline from San Jose to  our final destination, Guatemala City. It was good that I had thought of that because the tax provisions enacted by Costa Rica declare that users of the airport on all out-bound flights must pay USD26 on every departure to a foreign country. Since we were in transit, that law did not apply to us. We cleared immigration and aduana and exited the secured area of the airport. Our next flight was 6 hours away so we had some time to kill. We had thought at first about taking a city bus to the heart of San Jose but decided against it as we needed to check in to the secure area again and await our flight. It was either this or pay the USD52 between us. We opted to chill out in the airport, watching numerous arriving and departing airplanes from Spain, the United States, Colombia and several of the Central American countries. 

We were directed by immigration to the line marked menores (minors) where we were given free passage sans impuestos (taxes) into the departure areas after we had once again passed security. Have I mentioned that every airport in Central America that we have visited has been equipped with wireless internet? There was one exception - the cinder block shed in Kuna autonomous territory. We in the USA could learn from that. Although many of our airports have wireless Internet gratis, many charge unreasonable amounts to connect. We visited the duty free shops and even sat down for a Burger King combo for me and a Schlotsky sandwich for John. Then, because the time was dragging, we found a Cinnabun shop which smelled pretty good where we each enjoyed one of their creations. Even though a bit doughy, it was tasty and we had tea and coffee to chase those delights.

Our flight on Copa was called and we lined up and were soon aboard our first jet aircraft since departing San Jose on our outbound leg. It was clean, the flight crew spoke and understood idiomatic English and we were given a sandwich and drinks. Those who wished had choices of liquor without cost. Our flight lasted for approximately two hours and we soon saw the beautiful and welcoming night lights of the capital city of Guatemala.

As soon as we landed, I called our landlords and friends, the Philippis. They were already waiting for our arrival and within minutes we would be in their SUV. We exited the plane and cleared immigration where John and I yielded our immigration entry forms and were given another stamp of entry for Guatemala which extended our legal time here for another 90 days. That is good because John would have been her more than the original  allotted 90 days and he would have had to have made arrangements to extend in another way. We then awaited our luggage. John was lucky as his came first and I waited until nearly the last piece was delivered. Then it came and we headed for the aduana and the exit. We both lined up to enter aduana and were asked for our baggage tags. I found mine quickly and was cleared but John had misplaced his so there was a slight snag. He was asked to produce his passport which he did and he was cleared. Since I had tarried, the bag checker again asked me for mine again and I had to explain to him that he had already pulled it. He was unconvinced but finally he just told us to go. We did and, outside we found Ruth waving to us. It took no more than a minute to find the vehicle and we were on our way to Antigua.

Our flight (plight) from the San Blas Islands to Panama City

We donned light rain gear and, with our packs in tow stepped into the large dugout canoe for the last trip of this visit. Our guides had encouraged us to arrive at the airport shed early for our flight which was scheduled at around seven that morning. We did hurry and the three of us alighted on land very near the landing strip where our intended flight should be bumping down within the hour. 

We joined several other folks who were scheduled on our flight as well as another flight which was scheduled in just about a quarter hour after ours was to arrive. We signed a log in the shed which asked for our names, nationality, our weight in pounds or kilos and whether or not we were ticketed. In the two landing strips out in the autonomous region, if one is not ticketed, one stands by and if space is available, jumps into the vacant seat and settles one's account when one reaches Panama City. There are no metal detectors, no gates, no counter attendants visible at the airports out in this area. There is one man who tends to baggage that is in-coming and that to be stowed from the passengers. But John and I had only our backpacks as this was a very short and leisurely visit and it required only one change of dry clothing and a few personal effects. So, after we had signed the log, we waited about for the sound and sight of our twelve-place aircraft that was arriving from Panama City. Before long, we were rewarded with first the sound of the single engine and then the sight of her circular path as she approached the landing strip. We first spotted the aircraft over the Caribbean Sea and it circled onto the mainland over two small rises behind the landing strip. Down it swooped, easily clearing the rises and lowering on the end of the runway opposite to the end where we were standing. The prevailing winds are from the ocean so the plane landed into the winds and taxied down the end of the mainland which also coincided with the end of the mainland where the concrete block shack was situated.

Passengers poured out as did four crew members of the aircraft. The aircraft was also bringing with it luggage that had belonged to passengers of the day before who were sans their things because the plane's hold was too small to accommodate everything. We noticed a committee of the four crew members standing out in the front of the plane, deep in conversation. It seems that the total weight of all of us  waiting was more than the aircraft could stand so, the short of it was that we were left at the airport together with a couple with a baby and one crew member without being boarded for our flight back to Panama City. As it was, the time was very tight because we were scheduled for a Panama Canal transit at 9 that same morning. The committee of crew continued for one hour during which another aircraft much larger in size of the company Air Panama had arrived, deplaned, unloaded cargo, loaded new passengers and cargo and had taken off. Still our crew labored over the apparent discrepancy, scratching their heads and becoming very deep in conversation.

Our outbound flight was supposed to have departed around seven and continued on to the other wee landing strips on the coast before it circled back and continued to Panama City. Now, because our names were not listed on the manifest as passengers from the location where we were standing, the crew decided that three of the crew would go to the next landing strip where they would unload passengers and cargo and return to our location to fetch us and the one crew member left behind. We were told that the crew was being oriented on either a new aircraft or a new procedure. Thus, there was double the number operating this wee bird. 

We waited and finally the aircraft took off and was gone for about 40 minutes before it returned to the strip. The pilot got out and produced a bathroom scale and made each of us remaining there weigh and report our weight out loud. It was posted and we were finally allowed to board the plane. Once aloft, we traveled directly to Panama City. Half way to our destination, I could hear the rain begin to pelt the fuselage. It continued for approximately ten minutes and then we alternated between the white cumulus clouds and areas of clear, blue skies until we reached our destination at Panama City. 

In Panama, whether one is taking a domestic leg or an international one, one's luggage is searched. Mind you, there is never a careful search but, there is a search. And, one must follow procedures when arriving else there will be trouble. So, we arrive in Panama and were directed to walk across the tarmac towards a door that appeared to be our entry point. We entered with back pack in hand and were told to wait. First the bags had to be searched and then our names had to be crossed off of a computer generated list of passengers to verify that we had, in fact, arrived and checked in. Perhaps three other names were called and checked ahead of John and then he was summoned to the desk. I accompanied him because we were traveling together. The clerk told him that he owed money for the flight. I stepped up and said that we had paid and we had our itinerary in hand to prove it. I was speaking in Spanish and I got a very rude remark from her saying that I was bothering her. I said nothing further but when we produced the paper, she sent it out for a copy for herself and one for the pilot who was closing out the flight and we were both given the green light to pass.
  

The island where we departed was humid but the heat of the day had not yet reached its peak but our destination in Panama City was both hot and humid and very uncomfortable. Fortunately we were both clothed in very light attire so it really did not matter.

It was obviously way past our connect time for the Panama Canal transit so we decided to hoof it over to the very fancy Allbrook Mall adjacent to the airport in Panama City. Upon leaving the terminal area, we were offered taxi rides but refused every one. There are no meters in the taxis in Panama City so one has to arrange for the price before entering the cab. For locals, transit across the city can range from two to perhaps six or seven dollars. If one is fluent in Spanish, it helps but even so, the cab drivers do make their money on tourism and the last two years have been a disaster here as elsewhere. So, for us, our fares if we should have taken the cab might have been five or six dollars instead of fifty cents to one dollar. We arrived at the mall and it was a great relief to get inside the cool common area of the shopping areas and food court. We even found a Dunkin' Donuts where we enjoyed the familiar tastes together with tea and coffee. We did a bit of looking around and John picked up one item before we decided to head for our hotel. Before exiting, I asked the clerk how much she would pay for a trip from there to the Amador portion of Panama City. She told me to pay absolutely no more than three dollars. 

We saw a cab driver outside and I signaled and went over to her window. I told her where we wanted to go and asked how much it would cost. She then asked me how much I was willing to give and I told her three dollars. She agreed and we were all happy. She deposited us about ten minutes later at the former Serviceman's YMCA which had been converted in part to a sales area for artisans. We found it very poorly stocked and almost vacant of tourists. However, we did manage to locate some items which we collected and traded for US dollars. Then, it was only a fifteen minute walk to our hotel. 

This would the the third and final visit and stay at the Country Suites by Carlson. And, on the last two stays, we were told that our rooms would not be ready until 3 in the afternoon. This visit was no different so we asked for a key in order to get into the business center to catch up on our e-mail and other items. We also grabbed a bite at TGIF which shared space with the hotel. We finally got our room and went up to the fourth floor where we both took extended times in the shower. It was great to clean up and get fresh clothing on. 

We were scheduled to meet friends of our landlord at 4 that afternoon so I went down to the lobby to await their arrival. Soon John joined me and I told him that he could let me know when they arrived since I wanted to catch up on the blog or other Internet stuff. I finished in the business center and joined John once again and we waited for our friends to show. Soon Bonifacia and Victoriana showed up and we suggested that we go for refreshments to TGIF. They were happy to join us and we had a delightful time conversing in Spanish. We had to ask Bonnie several times to slow down. Her friend Victoriana also asked her to slow down so we were assisted by her slackening of speech. We bid them so-long and walked with them to the bus stop where we left them. Then up to the room for a wonderful night of sleep. Our scheduled flight from Panama City to David the next day was due to depart around nine in the morning so we figured that an arrival of half past seven should be appropriate. That meant we would have time for breakfast at the hotel and a taxi ride over to the Allbrook airport the next morning.

We were awake around 6 and cleaned up before packing all of our things for our flights back to Guatemala. Down we headed for breakfast which we enjoyed. The breakfast room had windows which overlooked the Pacific entrance to the Panama Canal but this morning we saw no movement or lining up of shps for transit. We finished breakfast and headed up to the room for a final swing through then back down to the lobby where we asked for a cab to the airport. Checked out and loaded our things into the cab and made it to the airport in record time...perhaps fifteen minutes. 

Next segment will be Panama City to David in Panama, David to San Jose in Costa Rica and, our final leg San Jose to Guatemala City in Guatemala.

To the San Blas Islands

Our overnight in Panamá went well and we were awakened at 4 in order to be ready for our taxi ride to the airport. All went well and the person who checked us in at the airport was the same person who had re-booked our canceled flight for the next morning. He remembered us and called us up with a smile. We got our boarding passes and assurances that the pilot would be showing up for today´s flight. Since I knew that there might be a problem with our return flight, I asked the person taking care of us for a computer print-out clearly showing what had been done and I needed something to show if there were any questions for our next day´s return.

We went quickly through security and into the departure lounge. Within minutes after six in the morning, our flight was called and we were issued out to a twelve-passenger high-wing, single engine aircraft. The company was initiating a new system or orienting new pilots and co-captains apparently since there were four flight crew instead of the normal two in the front seats. The configuration of the cockpit was two seats and, facing towards the front of the plane, there were four sets of double seats on the right-hand side of the fuselage and four single seats just across a very narrow aisle on the left-hand side of the plane. Those of us who were awaiting the flight filled all seats with the possible exception of one or two. I was seated in one of the single seats with a great view of the entire panel. It was great to see all of the instruments come to life as we began our journey. There was a constant conversation between and among the four airline individuals with a shuffling of papers and reports, etc.

We took off in hot and humid conditions and flew for approximately forty minutes from the south coast of Panamá up to the northeastern portion of the country. When we were within visual distance of the airport, we circled for a while over the beautiful islands dotted with gorgeous white sand beaches and palm trees. Then, the aircraft was pointed towards the rolling hills just inland from the ocean. We circled and turned over a couple of small hills and dipped deeply onto the concrete landing strip leading towards the shores of the Caribbean Sea.

We came to a stop at the end of the runway and turned towards the concrete block wall and gate that separated us from those awaiting boarding for the on-going leg and possible for the leg taking them back to Panamá. We exited the plane and were met quickly by the persons responsible for taking us by dugout boat to the lodge that we would call home for the next twenty hours or so.

Just as we landed and awaited our transport in the boat, another aircraft, far out-sizing our aircraft in size, landed with additional passengers for one of two lodges supporting the community that we were about to visit. From the second flight emerged several people, most of whom would be going to the other lodge. However, one lady, a citizen of the Ukraine, was going to join us at the lodge of our choice.

We were three individuals who would soon be loaded with our things into the boat. Aside from us, there were two in the boat, one running the outboard motor at the rear and one in the front. As we began our ten minute journey to our destination, we vied for position with another dugout canoe loaded with far more passengers which was bound for the sister lodge easily visible from our island.

Except for the main island which is small and densely populated with approximately 3,000 souls, all of the other islands in the proximity were either totally uninhabited save for the two islands where lodges are set up for tours similar to those we had booked. The islands are on a coral reef and the waters are a gorgeous emerald green and blue. There are waves that come splashing up on the windward side of the islands from the unrest of the Caribbean Sea. However, on the leeward side, there was considerable calm so we enjoyed the best of both worlds, so to speak.

We landed early in the morning and were shown to our thatched-roofed huts. Ours was set over the water on stilts and we could see the community in the distance as well as the other uninhabited islands and the one with the other lodge. We were instructed that there was both hot and cold water in the shower in the bathroom, a commode and wash basin. We were told to not flush anything other than human waste in the toilets but to discard toilet tissue and other items into the waste can beside the pot. There were two double beds made up for our use. Windows opened up towards the land and on the opposite side of the hut which gave us unobstructed views of the Caribbean Sea. There were two doors to the outside: one through which we entered from the land and one which provided exit onto the porch which was set above the water. On the porch were two hammocks. The doors and the windows pivoted on a central vertical pole or rod which caused the openings, when the windows and doors were open, to have wonderful and cool cross-breezes. We were shown the electrical switches for all the lights and for the overhead fan and were told that during the day there would be power from solar panels but, during the night, there would also be power available but this time from diesel generators which we later did hear humming gently in a soft lulling noise.

We were told that breakfast would be served in about ten minutes at the large circular palapa which was elevated higher above the water than were our cabins. We ambled over to the tables which were set for us and were given choices of eggs three ways with sausage, ham or bacon with orange juice, coffee tea and breads with butter and jams. After breakfast, we were told that there would be a tour of some of the uninhabited islands in the dugout canoe and that we could stop and go swimming if we desired. We were told that, from that time forward, when there was an activity, one of the employees there would blow a conch and it would mean for us to report for meals or for an activity. We were dismissed after breakfast and the Ukranian lady found her way to her dwelling as we also found our way back to ours. I spent the time curled up in one of the hammocks and fell fast asleep as I listened to the waves from the windward side of the island crash into the shores. We were within good eye-shot of the shore so we saw the lush and verdant jungles surrounding this gorgeous piece of earth. The islands were more than inviting themselves and soon I lost it as I began to check my eyelids for holes. The sun was barely breaking through the clouds as we landed earlier and it was overcast when we arrived at the island. But soon, the sun burned off the layer hiding us from its intense glow and I adjusted my hat so as to avoid disappointment from its burning rays. I also had a generous portion of sunscreen which I applied to the exposed areas of my body.

The conch sounded and I was awakened. It also stirred John from his nap and we were on our way to the general area where we were asked what we really wanted to do. Since the Ukrainian was unfamiliar with Spanish and since our guide knew very little if any English, I acted as an interpreter for her. She asked several questions about the community and some about the general safety of her money and passport. She also was interested in knowing if there was any possibility of purchasing marijuana. I did my best in getting information back and forth and the older of the two guides agreed to obtain five balls of the stuff for her. They told her (through me) that they would get if on the afternoon tour of the community which was scheduled for about 4. When she found that she would have to wait, she pulled out a USD100 note and waved it in front of the guide and asked me to question whether this might make a difference in getting it sooner rather than later. Needless to say, money spoke and she got her just desserts. So much so that she was passing Venus when the lunch conch was heard and we never saw her at meal time.

But, I am getting well ahead of my story. While we were still at the tables for breakfast, a dugout canoe with two Kuna men paddled up to the place where our dugout was tied securely to the dock. The younger of the two guides called us over and included us as he and the chief cook bargained with the fishermen for the acquisition of our food for lunch. The two fishermen were in a canoe made of logs and which seemed to be perhaps twelve to fourteen feet in length. They were clad in skimpy togs, maybe a t-shirt and a pair of undershorts and were barefooted.

Once the fishermen had paddled away, we asked for bottles of water and were given a beach towel and were loaded into the canoe. We circled our island and made a giant loop of our general area before we approached a beautiful white sand beach where the coconut palms were waving in the breezes. I took along the sunscreen and offered some to the overly white Ukrainian who gladly accepted and smeared some of the block onto the most obvious places. She had come prepared for swimming with suit in her bag but was not dressed for swimming when we waded from the boat onto shore. John and I were already prepared so hopped into the buoyant salty waters of the Caribbean. What a treat and how very comfortable the waters felt to us. They were ticklish cool and the breezes created an extra delight for us all. Meanwhile, the Ukrainian had ducked down behind one of the palms and soon emerged with her suit appropriately adorning her body. When she appeared, both of the guides hopped into the canoe and disappeared for about thirty minutes. When they finally showed, we saw them traipse from within the island itself and not from the boat. They had landed on another portion of the island so we followed them back to the canoe and were taken back to our island.

We were given a short lesson on the community which I tried first to understand in Spanish and then attempted translate for the Ukrainian. As I understood the narrative, these people had migrated from Colombia at some time in the past (perhaps centries ago) and settled on the coast of Panama. They are an autonomous people governed by a chief. There is one chief in their community of 3,000 souls who giverns, gives advice and, essentially runs the government. I understood the relationship of these people to be similar to that of the American Indian reservations where they are, in fact, a nation. The chief product of these people would be derived from fishing, agriculture or from hunting. In these islands, there are two other communities somewhat like this one. This one is the largest and has its own chief. There are two other chiefs, one each in the other communities. The community is connected to the mainland by a bridge. This is a critical connection as the schools are on the mainland as is all of the potable water. Additionally, administrative offices are there and I even spied a Mormon church constructed just to the side of the bridge. It had the tell-tale satellite dish outside of the front of the sanctuary.

The men and boys of the area dress as would anybody in a warm and humid climate in the Western hemisphere. The youngest of the male children had no problems running about the community as naked as a jay bird and this went for the wee girls as well. The women and girls in the community dress very differently. But not all of them are following their ancestors. However the majority of them still do and they can be observed at the community and some as far away as Panama City. There are three ways to reach the community: by air, boat or foot. John and I observed visitors flying adorned in their indigenous attire. The females who have continued to follow the customs of their specific culture have gold rings in their noses, have tattoos decorating the bridge of their noses, are wearing molas, have a red kerchief head covering and a very colorful wrap-around covering from their waist to nearly the ground. Many wear sandals and most have gold jewelery in their ears and around their necks. While most of the younger Kunas do speak and understand Spanish, the older inhabitants have absolutely no fluency in Castellano. Photography of general scenes in the community are perfectly acceptable and not forbidden but when one desires to take photographs of individuals, permission must be asked and granted in every instance. And, with that, generally one is generally expected to fork over one US dollar. To break this rule can land one on his way out of the community and away from the autonomous area of Panama. They chief will quickly expel anybody who breaks this rule.

There are six houses of worship on the island, including the Mormon church which is on the mainland. I saw a Catholic and a Baptist church there and we were told that there were a Seventh Day Adventist and perhaps Holiness churches on the island. While we did our afternoon tour of the island with our Kuna guide, we even spied two tall Mormon missionaries walking on the main street of the community. I say tall since most of the Kuna are far shorter than the countrymen in the balance of Panama that we had observed. To us they seemed a very friendly people and it was very easy to communicate. The young boys especially were like any group of boys that we might encounter anywhere in the world: curious and very friendly. They offered themselves for photographs on several occasions and, I am sure that they enjoy the US dollars that were given in exchange. The main central street of the community was lined with private dwellings where molas were hung out for sale.

John told me that this island had a far great occurrence of albinos than in the general population of the world. Here they are referred to as Moon Children. We observed at least two on our short time on the island. One of them was in a group of boys and he was sun-burned beyond imagination. I asked our guide if he had any protection against the rays of the sun and he told me that nobody on the island ever uses such. His lips were chapped until large blisters appeared and his upper naked torso was red beyond belief.

We were followed to our canoe for our exit from the island but before that, a portly gentleman called out to me in English. He wondered where in Texas I was from and I told him that I used to be from there but was no longer a resident there. He was a missionary from the Holiness church and had brought an interpreter along with him for his time there.

We went back to our island once again and wandered over to our island. We neither saw nor heard from the Ukrainian the entire afternoon. I suspect the five balls gave her sufficient potancy to send her traveling to Uranus and back again. She must have been purring. We settled into our wee shack and enjoyed the afternoon. I know that I went in and out of sleep as I heard the waves pound up against the pilings supporting our structure. The breezes were tickling as well. I noticed that a couple of lizzards were frolicking on my lamp. Was that rain that I heard pounding on the roof? Oh yes it was. What a wonderful and comforting sound that was. But, my one-third dry swimming stuff certainly would not be getting dry now. That was just fine by me as I had included large, plastic bags to stash my beach shoes and wet stuff if and when that should happen. But sleep called me again and the next thing that I knew, the conch was breaking our silence.

We headed for the main area where our boat was docked and there we saw our table set for dinner. As I mentioned before, we had fresh fish for lunch. It was served with the head attached. I was a good sport and, I must admit, it was wonderful. But, getting to our dinner...we had been set up both for breakfast and for lunch at separate tables. John and I both figured it was better to ask the Ukrainian if she would mind if we would join her. She was very happy for our company and we got to know a little more about our fellow traveler in this way. She was a part of a much larger group from the Ukraine and had branched out and gone on her own for a small portion of the trip. She would be meeting up with them later on in Costa Rica.

For super we were served lobster! With that we had a very nice tomato salad and, if I recall rice. We had fresh fruit for dessert. It was soon time for bed so I loaned the Ukranian a flashlight as she was fearful of the dark and she asked the guides to ensure that a large yard light remain on during the night. Before bed, I wandered outside on the porch over the ocean and I spied several flourescent items moving about the waters. I figured they were some type of sea life but they were beautiful reminders of the wonders of nature. We were not long in the land of consciousness that night and fell fast asleep soon after finding our beds. I awakened during the night and heard the wonderful sounds of wind through the palm fronds. Also, there were rains that came at night which was another wonderful gift.

The next thing that I was aware of was a call for Senor Bruce. It was already ten minutes to 6 in the morning and we needed to be at our main building with all of our gear packed for breakfast at 6. We got there in good time and ate our light breakfast with coffee and tea. By half past six we were met by our two guides and they said we needed to hie for the canoe for our transfer to the airport. We boarded in rain which had continued from our awakening time but were covered with parkas which shielded us and our belongings from the elements. In fifteen minutes we were waiting at the small shed that acted as terminal for this wonderful eden.

My next entry will cover our exit from the island and arrival for the last time in Panama City.

A halt in the blogging....

My wee Dell mini is sick and I can neither download any images nor can I blog and publish so I will take notes and catch up on the narrative on the 6th after we return to Guatemala from Panama. Sorry folks but machines sometimes have a will of their own. I believe it is not fatal but it is a bug that I cannot ferret out. I am happy that all of my images reside on my external hard disc! So, until the 6th, so long!

A quick note as to our itinerary...we were to have flown to the San Blas Islands early this morning but our flight was cancelled. Instead, we took a city tour of Panama City and will overnight at the hotel here on the Panama Canal. We will try again tomorrow to get the flight. If successful, we will spend the day and night at the islands and return on the 4th. If we get back in time, we will take a partial transit of the canal and return to our hotel in Panama City. Then, on the 5th, we are scheduled to fly from here to Guatemala.

Greetings from the Panama Canal

We drove to David in about fifty minutes and found our way to the airport road. But, before turning in our car, we needed to find fuel. The going rate in Panama, at least in the area where we were visiting was right at three dollars a gallon. I pulled into one station (Shell) and they were busy filling somebody else with 91 octane gasoline so we opted for another. We had been carrying minimal US dollars (the currency used in Panama) so together had little more than twelve or thirteen dollars. We found another station which had gas for less and, when we drove into the station, I asked if they accepted credit cards. No was the answer so we carried on a bit nearer the airport and found a Texaco showing that they accepted MasterCard, Visa and American Express. 

There is no self-serve in Panama so I asked the attendant to fill first fifteen dollars, then a little more until I could see the gauge hit the seven-eighths mark. It had registered twenty-four dollars at this point so I handed him my credit card. He told me then that their machines were not functioning. I answered that we had no more than thirteen dollars at which point he took my card and tarried a bit. He finally returned and told me that it was impossible. I then asked him where the nearest bank was in order for me to withdraw dollars to pay him. He said he would show me. So, he jumped into the car and gave us direction in Spanish for us to located a bank with an ATM. We drove about a mile and I spotted a bank where I got dollars and paid him. He had the change ready in his pockets and then we drove him back to the station and continued on to the airport.

Checking the car in at Alamo went very smoothly and soon we were also checked in for our fifty-minute flight in a propeller Dash300. We were led out of the terminal area onto the tarmac and up the steps of the plane where we found our seats. The flight was not crowded but had more occupants than the one we took down from Costa Rica. Our flight went very smoothly and during the ride we enjoyed some Ruffles potato chips and a soda.

We arrived at the terminal (a former United States Air base) in Panamá, exited the plane, again walking on the tarmac into the terminal building where we exchanged our bag check for our bags. Then we exited into a group of taxi drivers, all who were offering us rides for varying amounts of fares. We had heard that the taxis here do not have meters and that each ride must be negociated. We had heard seven, ten and five dollars and I hesitated. We asked one driver if the cabs had meters and he shouted back at us that they did not. We ended up with him and John told him that with his attitude, he would do well in New York. He had been less than pleasant to us (of course for no apparent reason) and I did add something also that he had given us less than a happy welcome to his country. He apologized and went on with the apology until John told him that we would be happy to just drop the matter. We ended up paying five dollars for the fifteen minute transport.

We checked into the Country Inns by Carlson on the Amador section of Panamá which is sitting right on the entry to the Pacific of the Panama Canal. Our room was on second floor and we noticed signs in the elevator that there was rennovation being accomplished on the first floor (directly below us). We understood that this would cease at 5 so we did nothing until 6 when it was still pounding and sawing. John went down and we were assigned a new room on the 4th floor. When we went up there, there was only one bed so I went down once again and we were finally reassigned to a room on the top floor with a view of the canal. We watched from our balcony for an hour or so and saw large ships hauling containers full of items passing both ways. John read that the tolls assessed the ships can vary, depending upon their weight and displacement. He quoted the average tolls and it seemed excessive. But, considering the alternatives, it probably cut the total cost of sailing down under the tip of South America in order to pass with the goods.

The hotel has no restaurant other than a breakfast room but there is a Friday´s so we went there for supper. John had a salad and I had a hamburger. It was the best one since leaving the USA. Did I say lots of ketchup on the fries? We went up to our rooms and it was not long before I was fast asleep in one of the comfortable beds. We had set the alarm clock for 4 because we were required to be at the airport at 5 for our 6 a.m. departure.

Morning came quickly and with both of us showered and packed up, we trotted down to the reception area where we checked out and left our bags except for a small pack each that we would be taking for our excursion to the San Blas Islands. Our taxi was waiting our arrival and we made it to the airport in record time. No wonder, there was nobody on the roads when the moon was still high in the heavens. We exited and paid him ten dollars - the going rate from the hotel.

We entered the terminal and checked in for our flight. We noticed several women adorned in their typical attire, including beaded coverings of their lower legs and arms. Very colorful and a taste of what we were expecting to see soon on the islands. We were then summoned to go through security which was done quickly and then we sat in a small waiting area, awaiting our departure.

Our departure time came and went and reasons were given. It seems that the pilot had not shown but we were told in about five minutes maybe. An hour passed and still no pilot but the airline gave us four dollar vouchers which we used in the restaurant. We paid together and got a receipt showing a balance of $3.10 so John returned to trade that balance for postcards. Then we returned to the waiting area again where we were finally told that our flight had been cancelled. The airline would have made hotel reservations for us and would have booked us on the next day´s flight but we told them that we needed for them to help us rearrange our accommodations on the island (which were prepaid). They did that and arranged for us to fly out tomorrow. So, we returned to the Country Inn where we are presently.

I have arranged a half-day city tour which we are going to take at eleven today. We will meet our English-speaking guide in the lobby. I will have reports, I am positive, after we return around 4 today.

Happy March 1st from Hostal B&B Cielito Sur

Spring in the northern hemisphere is only about twenty days removed from today but here in Nueva Suiza, spring is eternal. The windows are opened as is the door and we are wearing only Levis and t-shirts.We have packed our things and are waiting the magic hour of eleven when we are supposed to vacate our room. That will afford ample time to drive the fifty minutes to the city of David and to find fuel for our Alamo rental car before turning it in at the airport. Our flight is a national one this time so we were told that 45 minutes will be more than adequate time for check-in and processing. We anticipate a short flight from David to Panama City where we will stay overnight. We have some phone calls to make as our landlords in Guatemala have both friends and missionary associates who live in that city and we are connecting to deliver some things and pick up other items. We may not meet any of them on our initial pass through the city but we will be returning for another two nights at which time we will have more time.

On the early morning of the 2nd, we will take a cab to the airport for our flight from the capital city to Playon Chico or Ukupseni in the Kuna Yala, an autonomous region governed by the Kuna themselves, where we will be taken to the San Blas Islands.

It is time to load the car and head for the warmth and humidity of David. We are at an elevation of one mile above sea level and are descending to the capital of Chiriqui Province and the center of a rich farming region. It is hot and sticky all year long. This is mainly a travel stop only for visitors  on their way to or from Costa Rica and is also a springboard for visits to Boquete and Volcan, Parque Nacional Volcan Baru and islands in the Golfo de Chiriqui.

My next post will most likely be from Panama City where we hope to be this evening.

B&B Cielito Sur

Our time at this wee hostel in these gorgeous mountains in New Switzerland is coming to an end. We are occupying one of four dwellings on this coffee plantation or finca. Also living here are the owners of this property, the husband of at least partial Chinese descent and the wife who was born here in Panama of a North American set of parents. The wife's mother lives in one of the homes on the finca and is in her 91st year. She was born in Alvin, Texas but she and her husband decided to try Panama for six years and then probably go to Alaska. Instead of doing the move, they decided to stay here for the rest of their lives. So, this wee B&B was at one time was vested in the names of the parents of Mrs. Lee.

Mrs. Lee prepares breakfast for us each morning and, I have to be honest, they are some of the best delights that we have had for breakfast in Central America. Through their coffee finca runs a beautiful stream whose sounds we can hear day and night. There are flowers growing throughout the property and from this stock comes bouquets for our room as well as each table in the breakfast room. Breakfast is served from half past seven to half past nine and there are always two choices for main dish which changes each morning. Additionally, there are four or five types of bread, jams, four types of cheeses, jellies, peanut butter and cream cheese available next to the toaster. There is always fresh fruit, some cut up and some, like bananas, in their peel. There are cereals and granola on the buffet as well as two or three types of fresh juices. Coffee from their own finca as well as tea and chocolate are provided along with milk and yogurt. Water comes from springs and is potable here from the pipes.

Our rooms have high-speed Internet available and we do have TV and many DVD movies which are available for viewing. There are puzzles, books, games and many other activities available here. The owners have directed us to a couple of national parks as well as a private dwelling on which was discovered pre-Colombian artifacts and petroglyphs. The National Geographic featured this finca in its February 1950 issue and a copy of some of its pages were displayed at this site.

There is bird watching available here and one can view over 8 different types of humming birds come to two feeders that are placed within view of all diners at breakfast. They are unafraid of us and are not bothered by our movement. There are tiny ones and some about half the size of the robin. They come in all hues.

There are indigenous folks living amongst the Panamanians who still wear very colorful dresses. They resemble mumus and the adult as well as the children are so adorned. The men follow the western style of dress but some of the males do wear a woven straw hat that tends to set them apart.

There are Chinese shop owners or operators here in the small villages where we have gone for snacks, sodas and milk. The still speak Chinese to their little ones but manage a haltering Spanish with the villagers. The US dollar is the currency here in Panama and when one gives bills and there is change, we do get Panamanian hard currency in change instead of pennies, nickles, dimes and quarters.

The first day of arrival, we drove about five or ten miles until the road came to an end. It assisted us in our climb to Las Nubes (the clouds). At the end of the road was a national park but the gates were closed tightly. Our inn keepers told us that one would need to arrive before three in the afternoon to ensure entry. Chalk that one off the list! We have been told that the national bird of Guatemala (which is very scarce in that country) can be viewed here in Panama. Some occupants of the room adjacent to ours reported seeing an adult male with all its plumage and a juvenile on their walk-about earlier this week. I asked if they would share an image that they had taken and it was not good enough quality to even know that there was a fowl in the image, let alone a Quetzal. So, I passed on that one too.

On Sunday we rose early and had breakfast. I had eggs Florentine and ham plus all the goodies described above. John enjoyed French toast alone this morning plus many of the objects from the buffet. I asked the innkeeper wife about the possibilities for church this morning and she told me that the nearest one was a Seventh Day Adventist church. I told her it was a bit late for this week and we would already be back in Guatemala for next week. She told me there was Catholic and, she thought Methodist. I opted to not go this week. Instead, John mapped out a nice trip down to David and then up in the mountains again but, in a different direction. It was a much more heavily populated town where there was a jazz festival on the town square. Pity them as it was raining today. But, that neither hindered us nor those seeking to nod or tap their heels or toes. We all came. This area is heavily into agriculture with coffee fincas abounding. There were coffee trees laden with blossoms as well as red and green cherries. But, after we had driven several miles around the town, we decided to take our midday meal. John had read about a famous restaurant that had been visited by Teddy Roosevelt, Garbo and many other names you might recognize. It was in the midst of this town and just about four or five blocks from the town square where we had heard and seen the combo players in action.

We entered this old dowager and found our seats next to an open window. There were only two others dining at this time (12:30). We would soon be in for a regal treat. We were given menus and cold water poured in glasses. Next came a large portion of butter for each of us and two types of freshly baked bread. Then we ordered: John a piece of steak with garlic mashed potatoes and I, a piece of pig accompanied by a stack of dirty rice in which had been incorporated minced bell peppers of varying colors and onions. My pork chop was over an inch in thickness and very moist. We started our meal though with a bowl of onion soup.

John made a comment only after he saw and began to sample his delightful meal. He said (and I agreed) that had we had only the onion soup, we would have given it perhaps a 6 or 7 out of a possible 10 but when the entree or plato fuerte arrived, that 6 or 7 dimmed and we both gave a resounding 9 or 10 to the entire presentation. We had both seen that there were postres (desserts) on the menu but neither one of us had a speck of room after we had consumed our food up until that time. But, we tarried. And, the longer that we sat, the more tempting became the notion to at least look at the menu once again, just to make sure!

We needn't have asked because the waiter came to our table with menu in hand. Can you imagine? And, it took us no longer than two minutes to concur that two pieces of lemon meringue pie needed to be removed from their inventory. That together with coffee for John and black tea for me finished out a remarkable repast. We agreed that the vittles were more than good, they were superb.

But, to be honest, even though there are tons of ex-pats at this location, we longed to return to New Switzerland where the scenery is superior and there are far fewer folks. The area we visited is handy to goods and services but one is removed from the utmost beauty of nature...the calmness and the stillness. And, a place where you can be alone, together with yourself.

We decided to take our leave and drove the approximately 34 kilometers to David where we had spied a super market. John needed an eraser for his Sudoku puzzles and he was almost out of deodorant. He picked them up and we were on our way again. From the parking lot of the super market, we turned onto the Panamerican Highway and drove about 40 kilometers to our turnoff up into the hills and to the town of Volcan. We reached Volcan and purchased a quart of milk for our cold cereal tonight and then turned right onto our road to New Switzerland. Another 10 kilometers and we turned into the coffee finca and Cielito Sur.

Tomorrow we will be having breakfast and, after a drive down to David's airport, we will turn in our car and board our flight to Panama City at around 1:15 in the afternoon.

From San José, Costa Rica to David, Panamá

We awakened in the comfort of our hotel Parque del Lago near the heart of the capital city. We got up, showered and packed out belongings for the last time in Costa Rica. Then we headed down to the restaurant to have our buffet breakfast. They do become rather hum-drum and offer very few surprises, especially when one has been having hotel breakfasts for weeks. But, the fresh fruit is a treat and, from time to time there are waffles or pancakes which are nice. Other than that, the surprise is that there is no surprise. When we finished eating, I stopped by the desk and told the fellow working there that we needed a taxi to the airport. There are city buses that run for a fraction of the tariff that we would be paying to the taxi driver but we did have a couple of hand pieces of luggage and figured it would be easier than trying to do the approximately 30 minute trip with riders in the public buses. I ran across the street and obtained 30,000 Colones which if exchanged for dollars would convert at the rate of 550 to one.

The driver was there at 8:30 sharp and we hopped into the cab and were taken quickly to the airport. Most of the traffic was headed into the city and we were going the opposite direction. The airport is situated at the end of the road so there is little need for a map or GPS unit once one finds the road. We unloaded at the International section of the airport, John paid the driver and we were ready to check in for our flight.

We entered the terminal which was new, organized and clean. We did not share the terminal space with an abundance of folks this morning and, after asking one person, found our AirPanama check-in place. Two men were going through our suitcases and backpacks in a most cursory manner. When completed, they attached the two zipper ends together with a plastic tie and asked us if we had paid our tax. John was of the impression that it might have been included in our ticket purchase price so went to the front desk to inquire. He was told that it was not included so we went to the tax desk where we lined up to finish that task. When we approached, we were told that we could pay in Colones, US dollars or credit or debit cards. If we opted to pay with credit cards, the Costa Rican government would take the money from our accounts in the form of a cash advance. We opted for a debit card because there would be no additional interest charges extracted by our credit card company. The cost for us combined was USD52. I realize that these costs seem steep to those of you who travel mostly in the US but you must remember that when you look at the base fares in the US, they are minuscule compared with the fare you pay when you finally get these taxes added in. For instance, a fare of USD78 round-trip between Phoenix and Chicago suddenly becomes USD158 when the airport taxes, security fees and other charges are combined. We are just not used to paying these fees apart as we often do in other countries.

Once having paid these fees, we passed quickly to the desk of the airline company itself and were given our boarding passes and we also deposited our checked baggage. Then, very quickly through security and into the duty free shopping areas and our eventual waiting area for gate 16. The terminal, as many here in Central America, provided for Wi-Fi gratis so John and I were able to catch up on the news and monitor our bank and credit card accounts. We were at a gate where it was necessary to exit the door on ground level and board a bus which would take us to our waiting plane. Our plane was inbound from David, Panamá and would be turning around to take us back there. We were scheduled to board at 10:45 but it was apparent that there was a delay since there was no stir at the boarding door even after 11:00 that morning. Finally, at around 11:15 there was an announcement first in Spanish and then in very broken English concerning our need to find the door for our exit. We did so and joined perhaps fifteen others on the bus. After a drive of about five minutes, we reached what appeared to me a Fairchild 17 aircraft. The same type as Howard Hughes AirWest used to operate in the western part of the USA. A high-wing plane with the belly extending as a pendulum below with two prop engines. When we boarded, John and I both got front seats and the others found their seats behind us. I looked at the safety card and found that this aircraft was a Dash300. Could have fooled me!

We had about fifty minutes of flying before landing at our destination. During our flight we had a choice of crackers, maybe raisins and a sticky-sweet candy bar together with juices, coffee or tea.

We landed at a very small airport in the western portion of Panamá very near the frontier with Costa Rica and exited the plane and finally entered the terminal. The temperatures were high and the humidity far higher. It was uncomfortable on the tarmac and far more uncomfortable in the stale and unconditioned air inside the terminal. Other than one girl, the two of us were first in line for immigration and customs. We waited for perhaps ten minutes as the one person doing immigration was finishing a telephone conversation. When he did terminate the call, he worked madly trying to sign onto the computer. This took several tries but finally he did manage to connect. He cleared the girl then both of us. He was friendly but just not rushed or in any hurry. We had a good chat, he and I and I even got a nice smile from him. We then walked over and claimed our bags and put them up on a table. The girl had chosen the other table and they were doing a once-over on her bag. She was cleared and we thought the inspector would come over to do ours but, no. He did somebody else. So, we moved our bags over to the other table. He first looked at my bag then asked me to open my backpack. I did and he inspected and passed me through to the terminal area. Then he took leave and left everybody standing. John waited and in about five minutes, he reappeared and John was also cleared.

We checked with Aeroperlas, our next airline for our connecting information on the 1st of March and got confirmation papers. Then we exited the terminal and walked across to Alamo where our wonderful Toyota was awaiting our arrival. We did the paper work and the clerk explained that there was mandatory insurance required in Panamá. We agreed and, with contract in hand, went out the door, jumped into our clean, unblemished car and sped off. John had all of our directions in hand and we followed them for about ten minutes. He told me there was a McDonald's and, without hesitation, we stopped and we both enjoyed our lunch. After that, we continued approximately one hour to our destination for the next three nights in the mountains in the hamlet of New Switzerland. We would be in the mountains, experiencing cool, gorgeous weather and we would be surrounded by absolutely stunning scenery. No more hot and humid here!

Our night at Pacuare Lodge and our departure

We were told in our orientation that lunch on our arrival day would be served approximately thirty minutes after our arrival with dinner to follow  in the evening at 7. During our lunch we were asked about choices of starter, main and dessert. I selected a Delmonico steak prepared medium. As I mentioned previously, our guides who had led us faithfully and safely to our destination were now working in the kitchen and at our tables. The food was delicious, nourishing, fresh, colorful and extremely appetizing to all of us and it did have a gourmet flair, no kidding. Coffee and tea were available to us in the common area at all times during our stay. We used water from the area which they assured us was tested monthly and found to be free of contaminants and microbes and perfectly potable. When I questioned whether or not it originated from springs, I was told that it was pure, mountain water. I then further questioned whether or not the indigenous folks had cattle or animals above the source and was told that they just did not frequent that area. So, we drank the water and two days after my intestines and stomach are neither back-talking nor rumbling with complaints. I suspect like one of Don's and Nance's landlords said, "we've been drinking it all these years and have never gotten sick" might also apply to the lodge on Pacuare river.

John and I hopped tables, first sitting with the Israelis then with some of the other guests who had not come in our original covey of humanity. Then, on the last day, we had opportunity to visit with some folks from Washington state and also some others from Montana. It was delightful to exchange stories and experiences with all of these folks. I know that we gained immensely and I trust that the others acquired something in return.

After supper we went upstairs which was illuminated by candles throughout the large expanse. There were some (mostly our age, more or less) who were attempting to ready by candle light but found the light inadequate. Those folks employed their flashlights which were supplied to all of us in order to find our way to and from the common area during the dark hours of the night. Both before and after dinner some of the group sat in a semi-circle on bar stools facing two of our multi-tasking guides as they went about tending the bar. It seemed to be a happy exchange between and among the participants and the guides seemed both honestly and happily engaged.

We asked one of the guides named Max how long he had worked for Pacuare and he told us that he had been in their employ for fourteen years. Max was one of the guides who knew all of our names and used them without faltering. He was confident and seemed to sense our needs. When we heard of his extended tenure, I asked if he were one of the oldest in terms of service there. He told us that there were others with more time. He added that his father had also worked for the lodge and had very enjoyed his tenure. Pecuare Lodge has existed and done these types of eco-tours for twenty-four years.

Before long the couples began to dwindle and, seeing absolutely no need to outlast all of the group, we took our leave and headed for our bungalow. The rains had subsided by now even though they had continued after the afternoon shower a time or two. But, when we opened all of our curtains for the night entrance of cool night air, we noticed a flashing of light. It was that of lightning bugs sparking here and there. The beds were clothed in both a blanket and bedspread aside from the sheets, all of which were discarded at least at the beginning of the night. During the night I managed to slip below the sheet and then the light blanket. The dampness of our surroundings had created a less than dry condition for our bed linens. It reminded me of what we might experience in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas and of southern Alabama when, as kids, we had neither air conditioning nor fans to provide dryness or comfort within our dwellings. But soon we forgot even of this slight discomfort and were sleeping.

Though John did not recall it, I began to hear the rumble of thunder and the flashes of lightning. Then, the rains began in earnest. What a treat and a natural sedative sure to please coupled with the comforting sound of  the roar of rain on the overhead covering. Soon it was dripping down all four sides. I cannot tell you how long the showers lasted because they, like the artificial elixirs that so many folks with insomnia take, removed me from consciousness quickly and soundly.

We awakened and greeted the dawn with joy and gladness. John hit the shower and I passed since I had been ducked, splashed and sprinkled in the raft. What's more, I had been completely submerged in the "pure, mountain waters" coming down and emptying in the wee pond just below the water flow on our way into the lodge. When John was finished, we walked to the commons and, while waiting for breakfast, had coffee and tea. The breakfast buffet was quickly ready and my plate was filled with fresh fruit, french toast and scrambled eggs. I had orange juice and Lady Grey tea to finish out my morning's breaking of fast. Our morning repast time was at 8 and our scheduled departure was at 10.

The rains continued throughout the morning until much of the ground was soaked and some of the walkways were covered with the runoff. All of us noticed that the river's hue had changed. It had been altered with the advent of the rains from what appeared to us a greenish blue to a reddish brown. And, the places where the boulders once had been apparent were now either gone completely or just a fraction of their original size. And, the speed of the current had increased visibly. Our rafts were still securely moored and tied with long ropes to trees some twenty yards up from the river's edge.

One by one the couples meandered from their bungalows or suites to the central muster point with their packed bags. Four of our group opted to remain a bit longer, having planned activities and another night or two at the lodge. But our two new-found friends from Olympia, Washington were going to join us on our way out. The guides were scurrying with their last-minute duties and helping us stuff the water-resistant (not proof as we later found) bags full of our items that we wanted protected from the river's water as well as the pounding rains that had continued steadily from before breakfast. Little by little, all of our belongings were stowed and carried down on a hand truck to the provisions raft. We donned our lift jackets and helmets and headed, gave our thanks to the help and said our good-byes to those remaining and walked the fifty yards in the heavy rains to the river's edge. This morning we had some additional guides who would be accompanying us in kayaks. Additionally, there were two kayakers who would be following our processing yet stopping from time to time at some of our difficult spots in order to record the whole episode or a portion thereof on memory cards. But, the occupants of the other two kayaks were there for our safety. It seems that just the day before an entire raft had flipped and all of the occupants were thrown into the drink. The guides in the kayaks explained to us the exact procedure for retrieval should we suffer such a fate. This was sounding more interesting by the minute! We had no such flotilla on our in-bound segment. As we began to board our rafts, four were in the sister raft and they were the Israelis and the eco-production duo and in our raft were the couple from Washington and John and me. We had the same guides as our inbound leg and ours was Randall. One note worthy of attention here...somebody, I cannot recall from whom the question came, asked me if I thought it was safe wearing my glasses. Do you suppose this was an omen of things to come?

Randall explained to us that on the day before the waters had been exceptionally low and were flowing considerably slower but today it was a different story completely. He explained to us that we would be passing rapids that would be considered and classified as Cat. III, IV and, quite possibly even V. As we started out, we did some practices with the heave ho, etc. and I could not feel any problems in my arms or shoulders. We let the front two from Washington set the cadence and we followed suit. It was obvious to us after the first crossing of the rapids that we in the middle of the raft were in preferential positions. Though we got a complete spray of the waters nearly every time, those in the front were showered with a blast of the angry, brown liquid without fail. But, after the first one, we at least knew what to expect. Somehow or another, I had glanced back to the stern and I could hardly believe what I saw...if I was not complete mistaken, I viewed Randall making the sign of the cross! The raft leaped high into the air, reacting to the force of those rapids and, those of us who had been catapulted, tried in vain to paddle the water but ended up taking a swing into the air instead. Never mind for we quickly were plunked down onto the surface of the waters again. We were given the command "get down" several times during the course of the outbound segment at which times we hit the deck and held onto our paddle as well as the ropes running around the outside surface of the raft. We did manage each time, one new set or rapids seemingly trying to outdo the one we had just successfully passed. And yes, we high-fived our paddles with each passing. The kayaks continued to crisscross our paths and were gliding like eels around about us. Their presence was very reassuring. We noticed also the two kayaks and their occupants pointing their cameras in our directions, especially when we were in the process of passing a rapids or just completing one.

Our actual departure time from the lodge was more like 10:30 a.m. When we had traveled about one-half of our way to our final destination, we pulled into the side of the river. At this point, the river had broadened and there were brown sand patches onto which we pulled our rafts. Bear in mind that the rains continued relentlessly throughout our entire exit journey. Immediately upon reaching shore, one part of the eco-production tour ran for the side of the river, just above the flow, squatted and created a flow all of her own. She did not even have the protection of a fig leaf. But, when one is desperate, one takes matters into one's own hand. Others of us were a bit more modest and found a bush or shrub to shield our indiscretions. This was to be our lunch break even though we had been fed a substantial breakfast at the lodge. We took a steep path up the bank and found a palapa (grass covered shack, open on all sides). From the provisions raft the guides carried up the makings for what was soon to be stowed in our bellies. We had pasta, pulled chicken, bread and a wonderful salad. For dessert we had  a large selection of freshly cut fruit such as watermelon, cantaloupe, papaya and pineapple together with some coconut candy with iced tea. Not surprisingly, the guides again took the challenge and acted as chief cooks and bottle washers. The small enclosure was the property of indigenous tribe members with whom the Pacuare Lodge owner and operator had made a prior agreement for its use. There are monetary rewards for the owners of the property as well as all of the food stuffs that were uneaten. At the site were two resident pups who wandered from one person to another begging for morsels of food. They quickly snapped up each offering, sometimes before they reached the ground. Just above the palapa was another smaller enclosure also open at all sides with a table suitable for eating. The roof was thatched and did not provide water-tight seals so the top of the table was somewhat moist. But, who cares? The guides cleaned up all of our mess and repacked the plates, glasses and silverware. The left-overs remained and would be collected and consumed in the afternoon when we would already be long on our way.

The guides announced that it was time to pull the pin so we climbed down the fifty steps to the river once again. But, this time the river had risen noticeably and, where we had once stepped on semi-dry sand, there was not water. 

We continued on for another hour or so and finally reached our point of exit from the river. The river was flowing about twenty-five feet below the wee village where we terminated our rafting trip. Up with our paddles, life jackets, my glasses and helmets to the top and into a warehouse where we deposited our equipment and received a dry, fluffy towel. It felt wonderful to sop some of the moisture off our out bodies. Then we collected our bags (some of the contents of some of the bags were not fully dry). Mine was just fine...no leaks whatsoever. Then across the street to showers, changing rooms and another mini-buffet set up for us. Also here we noticed that the two kayak photographers had laptops and were displaying the images from our trip. There were about one-hundred fifty photos of each raft and they looked quite impressive. When I found the cost, I was disinterested in acquiring a copy. However, our friends from Washington did purchase a copy and have told us they would attempt to make a copy of their images and make it available to us. We will share their initial expense of USD40.

Then, in the midst of a downpour, we tucked our wet things into large plastic bags and stowed them and us on a tourism van headed for San Jose and our hotel. The ride back to the city was done in far less time than our transport out and it seemed to us that the roads had improved. It is highly possible that we took different routes coming and returning. We made it back to the capital and to our hotel by around five in the afternoon. The past two days were a true pleasure and tons of fun. But, it was also a pleasure to reach our hotel. We hung the wet items in our air-conditioned room and hoped that they would dry in time for us to pack up the next day for our flight to Panama.

John and I were both fatigued and had no intention of doing anything strenuous that evening. We had spied a McDonald's just one block distant from the hotel so walked over and fed our faces and returned. Bed was my only friend at that point and I had absolutely no argument regarding bedtime. I knew nothing of the night. Sleep, what a wonderful gift. Tomorrow we will be taking a taxi to the San Jose airport for our flight to David, Panama.  

(I will be including images within this narrative at a later date.)

The River Pacuare, the lodge and white water - our arrival

We have had a memorable time in Costa Rica, albeit way too abbreviated. We arrived in the capital city at dusk on the 23rd so really did not have much time to become acquainted with the metropolitan area. Then, on the 24th, we were up early to check out of our hotel and await the tourism van that was scheduled to meet us at our hotel at 6. We grabbed a quick breakfast at the hotel and waited for our driver who showed up around half past six. On the bus we met the driver and a guide plus one fellow from Israel and one fellow, born in Iran but of Israeli descent. We continued throughout the heart of San José and parked for a short time near a larger and more grand hotel from which four additional folks emerged. There were two young girls, both from Manhattan and a young couple who emerged and were soon situated in the van with their provisions. The young couple were  working together on a documentary on eco-tourism.  The girl was from Miami and the young man was from Los Angeles. We continued driving throughout the city in the early morning and soon were outside the busy portion and administrative center of this country and had entered a far less populated area and countryside. The city center lies at approximately 3,700 feet above sea level so we experienced cool but somewhat humid climate. Nevertheless, the air conditioning was turned on in the bus for our additional comfort.

We rode for approximately one and one-half hours through some of the most gorgeous country that we have experienced to date in Central America. There were various chains of volcanic mountainside wherever we looked and much rich, verdant vegetation. The roads for the most part were two-lane and filled with very slow-moving trucks behind which we often found ourselves. Speed limits that were posted were often less than 90 kilometers per hour (54 mph) and, for the most part the operators of the vehicles here that we observed kept well within the limits.

We continued on for another forty minutes and stopped the city of Cartoga which, up until 1823 was this country's administrative center and capital. In this city we also found the Basicila de Nuestra Señora de los Angeles. It was a remarkable structure, an image of which you can see to the left. We were of the impression that this was the only reason for our stop but we found out later that two passengers who should have been collected in San José were actually not ready when we stopped in the city but somehow we connected with them at this city. They were young and perhaps matched the ages of the two girls from Manhattan. We found out later that they were from Malmö, Sweden and we exchanged stories about our heritage and of the wonderful visits in their homeland. When we noticed them on the bus, they were fighting the effort to be asleep and finally both succumbed to slumber, their blonde heads bobbing to and fro and finally coming to rest on one shoulder or another as well as the back of the seats just ahead of them. In conversation later, John found that they had partied until five the morning that we began our journey.

We continued on for perhaps another fifty minutes, driving through lush, gorgeous mountainsides and valleys which were adorned with some of the most spectacular rain forest until we came to a curve in the mountainous road where a restaurant was located. It was set high above the valley below providing for some nice views over a river flowing in the valley, a reservoir and, during times of less cloud-cover titan volcanoes in the distance. We had time for bathroom stops here as well as our breakfast. We were served corn tortillas, a pasty type of cheese, the consistency of cream cheese but certainly not the flavor, a mound of gallopinto (rice and beans mixed), fresh fruit, orange juice and coffee and tea.

We boarded our bus again and continued yet for another hour on these windy roads with gorgeous scenery. We passed through several very small villages and towns and picked up three additional guides who would later we assisting us at the lodge and on the Pacuare river. These fellows were some of the best multi-taskers that I have ever observed in all of Latin America.

If travel on the main highways of Costa Rica seemed slow to us, you should have been with us to experience the plunge that we took in the tourism bus as we departed the hard-surface two-lane highway and turned onto a gravel ribbon that would lead us eventually catapulting to the riverfront. The operator of the van had his manual-shift transmission van in its lowest gear and the motor was holding us back to a respectable and easy pace as we twisted this diabolic and sinewy passageway. Despite the lowness of the gears, the brakes had to be applied often but we failed to notice the odor from the over-heated brake pads so he must have done the right thing. It took us about ten to fifteen minutes to reach the river where our three blue rafts were tied. We were all very anxious to exit our van and did so with dispatch. We were able to see the water which seemed to be passing us quite quickly as it flowed from higher elevations to its target in the Caribbean Sea. We could see large boulders and some rocks jutting out of the water and we would eventually be dodging these monsters. 

There was a time of orientation - a dividing, so to speak, of the sheep and the goats. You see, some of us had never been rafting before other than in the stillest of waters. But, then again, there were "experts or would-be experts" who knew all the ropes and would be providing help to most of us novices who were in need of education and assistance. We packed all of our things in water-tight packs, went to a last-minute toilet call, were divided off into groups, and then came the time to board. But, before boarding, we were fitted with life jackets and hard helmets that were fastened securely under our chins.
 

There were three guides who were there to provide for our safety, give commands and steer the rafts from the stern. One of the guides was responsible for transporting all of the luggage and other supplies that would be used during our overnight at the lodge. He had oars and sat mid-point in his raft. The raft that we were not occupying had six passengers plus the guide. Each passenger had a paddle and was instructed how to use it. There was much emphasis on how to hold the paddle, how to paddle (bending the body) and how to follow commands.

The only item that I had in my pocket was my small digital camera which I managed to use once or twice before we began our float down the river. In our raft, aside from the guide, we had only John and myself doing the paddling. Our guide told us that the water was low and because we were both fairly portly, we managed to provide quite a lump downward under where we were sitting. It would be obvious then to assume that we could often be hung up on the boulders, especially if we would fail to honor commands of the guide. Think of what it might have been had there been other passengers along with us. And, hung up we became once or twice on our entry leg to the lodge. One time we were quickly dislodged by the maneuvering of the guide and because of the force of the water seeking lower altitudes. The second time we really became impaled and the guide, after rocking backwards and forwards, jumped out onto one of the offending boulders and pushed, shoved and yanked until we finally shot free. I was very pleased that he did make it into the raft before we shot over the rocks. It may have been after this dislodging where we were completely inundated with water. Our guide had shouted "down" and we minded so were none the worse for wear and still occupants of the raft. However, remember the one item that I had in my pocket? My poor camera! I took it out and tried to dry it on the portion of my t-shirt that was tightly squeezed under my life preserver and the guide steered the raft to the shore where we tucked the camera into his water-resistant first-aid kit.

After we had been in the raft for about fifty minutes, we paddled over to shore and exited for a walk up one of the creeks that flowed into our river. The river bed was strewn with rocks that were covered with a very slippery substance which made ambulating for some members of the group quite difficult at times. None of us really did the hike in record speed. nor were we in a race for first When we had walked about two hundred yards, we reached a gorgeous pool sheltered by the rain forest canopy. Feeding this pool was a rushing fall of water about two meters in height. Without exception, everybody in the group took off anything other than the slightest coverings of our bodies and dove into the drink. What a beautiful time of refreshment for us all. The day had begun with a partial cloud-cover but the sun was shining in such that shadows were cast all about. Fortunately for all of us, we had remembered sunscreen. Now we were doing a great job of removing  what remained of that white smeary stuff from our bodies. But, it was well worth it. 

The guides summoned us again and we were traipsing over the slippery rocks once more. Nobody that I saw took a fall. We were again on our way and when one of the rafts crossed a particularly rough place, we all waited for the other two to follow. We changed positions from time to time and when passing the other raft, we were in the habit of splashing to our heart's content the occupants thereof. All except the supply raft, that is. We knew well where the bread was buttered.

The entire area in which we were passing is a preserve and we saw no evidence of private dwellings. There were three or four other lodges, or remnants of them that we passed. None, we found later, were as well equipped as the one towards which we were heading. We were told that there were tribes of indigenous living on the far reaches of the mountains that we could see. However, we did not see any evidence of their presence down at the river level. We were told that the operator and owner of the lodge where we had booked, had made arrangements with some of the indigenous folks for use of some of their lands in exchange for foods and other items, chattel and monetary.

We had passed one of the apparently abandoned properties when our guide told us that, contrary to what we had seen on the website, this was our final destination. We were not convinced though and continued paddling on our merry way. And, before long, we arrived at the beautiful Pecuare Lodge. We had paddled on our inbound stretch perhaps two hours. It was great to have arrived and now we shed ourselves of our life-preserver, helmet and our guide gave me my poor camera. I dreaded trying to turn it on as I had ween warned about water and electronics. Thanks to the precision of Sony and especially those items constructed in Japan (which this camera was), the camera snapped to life and all was functioning.

We were given a few ground rules about electricity (it was on in the lodge proper from 5 to 10 at night) and in some of the move luxurious dwellings on the property. No shoes inside the bungalows or in the common areas. No paper or other objects in the toilets. Hours for meals and supplemental trips that might be available. We were also questioned about possible dietary restrictions. The girls from Manhattan did have allergies and the couple from LA and Miami also had some restrictions as to eating. One of the Jewish men had religious restrictions but the other one does not adhere to Biblical laws as to eating certain foods or the mixing thereof.

We were treated to a large goblet of cold watermelon juice. As we stood around enjoying this treat, we were told a bit more of the property and of its buildings. There was a common area where we stored our life savers, helmets and just a muster place for comings and goings. We were told that the lodge could accommodate perhaps up to twenty-four individuals and that people were coming and going every day. Some folks opt for longer stays and there are also many who opt for one overnight as John and I did. There was also a two-story building with large patio facing the river which was open to the elements on all sides. Electricity was available at this place for the charging of iPods, telephones (though there was no wireless signal for mobiles) and laptops. I had opted to not take my laptop as I had not expected there to be wireless. I was wrong, dead wrong. Believe it or not, there was wireless supplied by microwave towers. I asked if it were satellite and was told that it was microwave. On the top floor of the eating place was a large area for seating, a fully-stocked bar and a library. In the basement there was a wine cellar and they said that one could get just about any kind of wine you might desire. We were told that lunch would be served within thirty minutes so, at that time our guides helped us tote our bags and other equipment to our respective sleeping places.

I had not realized it but John had booked us into one of the luxury rooms which had electricity twenty-four hours a day. It was a gorgeous room with two standard beds with mattresses as thick and high as those of our niece Karen in San Diego. It was pure comfort. It too was open to the elements with curtains that could be pulled if one desired a tad of privacy at one time or another. There were nets stretched from the four-poster structures that could be used for mosquitoes but we noticed no insects whatsoever other than a few sand flies that seemed to enjoy the foot of one of the guides when we initially were introduced to the river. Our room was accessed only after walking on a stone walk about fifty yards in length form the common building and it was separate and apart from the other bungalows. It was on the upper floor of a building which was shared with another suite, that one with one queen bed. There was a lovely porch with hammocks for comfort and bird watching. There were numerous trees, plants and flowers and we were surrounded by the rain forest. The sounds of birds were abundant and, while swinging on one of the two hammocks, I spied two toucans enjoying plucking seeds and flesh of a fruit tree just twenty feet away. I did not jump up for my camera because it would have spoiled the beauty of the moment. Suffice it to say, I was surprised by joy. There were virtual trees of healthy hibiscus, calla lily, banana and a myriad of other growing beauties in the area. We saw pendulum birds and their nests on the property. The pendulum bird is larger than a robin and is related to our oriole. They make nests that hang from the branches of trees and can extend downward towards the ground in lengths up to 36 inches. The pendulum bird is a gorgeous bird with bright yellow tail feathers and they were spotted several times making darts towards their nests.

I mentioned that there were several options for activities while staying in the lodge. Among them were visiting an indigenous village, horseback riding, riding the zip-lines in and above the canopy, climbing the paths, Swedish massage,  hiking to and sharing a meal with an indigenous family, etc. John and I decided to just chill and we found our elevated patio set on a level to enjoy the canopy of the flora just right down our alley. Combine that with the possibility of swinging lazily in one of the two hammocks attached to hammock hooks on the porch. That was something that we simply opted to not refuse.

As I lay there listening to the calls of the birds and seeing the toucans and pendulum birds, a looked out at the gorgeous hibiscus blossoms just two yards from my eyes. I am positive I even closed my eyes in order to check the lids for holes a time or two. I was in and out of slumber but awakened by a sound that brought back memories of childhood. As a youngster, we had tin roof on the shed on the property where we lived and during times of rains, it was almost deafening to be inside the shed. Wow, it brought back some very nostalgic memories of life after World War II when we were living in southern Alabama. Those drenching but quick rains used to come and be gone within ten to fifteen minutes. Interestingly, the rains that came continued off and on throughout the afternoon and, as you will find out in episode two, they continued on into the next day.

With this in mind, you will remember that the zip-line tour was one that several folks took that very afternoon. So, as I heard the rains pelting the roof, it was also pelting the poor participants of the zip-line tour. And, as luck might have it, I heard the zing of the wheels pass over the cable on the final line coming back into our camping area. At first I was startled about the sound and it seemed so incongruous because of its mechanical nature. Yet, I wondered what sort of beast or bird might be emanating such a noise. Poor folks, they paid to be uncomfortable in the rain. We observed from the comfort of our hammocks and under a roof whose eaves extended a good meter on all sides. Certainly more than enough to keep us dry even in a gale.

In the next segment I will tell a bit about our night at the lodge, eating the delicious gourmet foods prepared by our guides and other staff on location. Meeting other guests who had already been there and becoming more acquainted with our guides, members of our own group and the staff.

(We have arrived in Panamá. I have still neither downloaded my photos from the Pecuare River experience nor have I included them in this narrative. Please do not give up hope. I will add them after I have completed the blog for our trip out - the second day.)