Entering Costa Rica from Panamá [1] was by walking across a long rickety railway bridge, completing immigration formalities on either side of the river.

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We did not get far along the road, stopping at Cahuita [2], a tiny village with only a few roads and lots of Caribbean character (and characters).  A long black sand beach stretches away to one side with a white sand beach on the other.  It was coconut prawns, black beans and rice for dinner.  Resident howler monkeys wake the town each morning at 5 am.

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Following the coast north we travelled 4 hours by boat from Puerto Limón to the remote village of Tortuguero [3] (pop. 550), through a maze of canals.  (There are no roads into or in Tortugero, which means place of turtles.)  Jungle overhanging both banks ensured a lot of bird sightings as well as sloths, monkeys and lizards.  The village lies on a narrow strip of land between the ocean and a long narrow lagoon.  It is the most important nesting ground for the green sea turtle in the Western Hemisphere.  The National Park, established in 1975, works closely with the community to ensure minimum impact by tourism.

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We stayed at Casa Marbella in a nice room upstairs with cooling breezes looking out over the river.  A peaceful way to tour the waterways of the National Park is in a canoe paddled by Ernesto.  He was born in the village and has extensive knowledge of the flora and fauna in the area.

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West of Panamá City, nestled in the giant crater of an extinct volcano is El Valle de Antón [5].  Famous for square trees which only exist here in the mountain village and several species of endemic orchids, it is also home to the endangered golden frog.  Petroglyphs just out of town remain to be deciphered.

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The cool climate of Boquete [6] 1000 meters up in the western highlands of Panama, make it the perfect place to grow coffee.  Due to landslides we were unable to hike in the surrounding mountains, a pity because there was a chance to see the quetzal birds.  From Boquete we took a couple of chicken buses and then a boat to Bocas.

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To finish off with Panama, we spent a few days relaxing on Isla Colón [7] in the Bocas del Toro Archipelago.  When Columbus arrived in 1502 on his 4th voyage, he repaired his ship and named the islands: Carenero (repair a ship), and Colón (Colombus in Spanish) after himself.  The small town had a laid back Caribbean atmosphere.  The people speak English but with the accent of Jamaica, mon.  We stayed in an old wooden hotel with creaking floorboards built out over the sea many years ago.  There is nothing quite like an early morning swim off the back deck followed by a breakfast of fresh fruits, well except maybe an evening swim followed by a cold beer.

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Panamá City [4] was a very pleasant place to spend a week.  We were surprised how cosmopolitan it is.  Locals joke Panamá City is the “Miami of the south, except we speak more English”.  With an apartment we were able to spread ourselves out, cook healthy meals for a change and drink wine in our pyjamas. 

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Across the bay from the skyscrapers of the modern city, the Casco Viejo (old compound) juts out on a rocky peninsula.  Crumbling buildings stand beside beautifully restored gems along the narrow streets.  Nearby is the Mercado de Mariscos where the freshest of seafood is sold.  Fresh homemade spicy picante sauce is a perfect accompaniment.  Panamá Viejo (old Panamá), the original city which was destroyed by the pirate Henry Morgan in 1671 lies in impressive and nostalgic ruins 8 kilometres away.

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Carnival was on – in the mornings, water is sprayed on the crowds from giant water tankers, whilst the nighttimes are given to serious partying.  One of the days is dedicated to the pollera, the voluminous, colourful skirt traditionally worn by Panamanian women.  Many of the Canal workers came from the West Indies and their Antillean Fair celebrates all things African in the Caribbean featuring food (we loved the Chombo chicken), handicrafts and dancing. 

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We headed out to the Miraflores Locks (live WebCam) on the Panamá Canal where we saw a large container ship going through the locks – very impressive.

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With a feeling of unease we handed over our passports in a bar in Cartagena (Colombia) [1] to Captain John, owner of the 18 metre yacht Wild Card which was going to take us to Panamá via the San Blas Islands.  A group of 16 backpackers boarded the following evening and were soon under way, leaving the city lights behind.  While we didn´t sail off into the sunset, we motored into the night – nearly the same thing.

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Out in the open ocean the wind was 10 to 15 knots with waves of 2 to 3 metres.  Pam was hurled out of our bunk during the night when a bigger wave broke over the boat.  Even with sea sickness pills we were feeling terrible and wondered why we had decided to travel 180 nautical miles in open sea in the windy season.  All was forgotten when the first of some 365 idyllic, mostly deserted, white sand, palm filled islands of the San Blas Archipelago [2] came into sight.  What a paradise.

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We spent 3 days moving among the islands, anchoring for snorkelling and swimming in the clear water.  Out of nowhere appeared Kuna Yala indigenous in canoes with fish, octopus, lobsters and conch shells for sale as well as the colourful molas made by the women.  The Kuna Yala people have autonomous control of the San Blas Islands (Kuna Yala) and allow no development – there are no hotels or resorts.  They do not permit marriage to outsiders so these people remain the most traditional indian group in the Americas.  The mola is part of the traditional women´s blouse still worn today.  Several layers of different-colored cotton cloth are sewn together; the design is then formed by cutting away parts of each layer.  The edges of the layers are then turned under and sewn down.  The stitches are nearly invisible.

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John was full of surprises, producing a cheesecake for 2 birthdays on board and cooking up lobsters one night with a delicious seafood stew he had spent hours in the galley preparing.  All the seafood was so fresh it was still alive when it went into the pot.

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All too soon it was over and we faced more rough seas to reach the mainland of Panama.  We awoke in a tranquil bay of Portobelo[3] surrounded by jungle covered hills.  Portobelo was founded in 1597 by the Spanish and became an important gold port.

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