great views and a fair amount of bird watching with only a few washed out sections. I strung up my hammock in a small clearing on top of a hill and settled in for the night. It looked as though thunderstorms were coming in from all sides, but my good luck continued and after 30 minutes it was clear skies, a full moon, and the sound of howler monkeys in the distance. The downside of the trip was that it got very cold during the night in the uninsulated hammock, and I also made friends with a number of tics, one of which was embedded in my foot. The hike ended in the popular tourist town of Boquete, which really didnt impress me much and seemed to be more of a gringo retirement village than a backpacker hotspot, so I cruised down to nexus of the Americas, Panama City.The Panama City skyline quickly put to shame that of any other Central American city. Upon arrival I headed straight down to the unusual Casco Viejo district, a wild contrast of dilapidated colonial structures and rejuvenated government buildings. In the daytime you can just walk around enjoying the scenery and eating
75 cent hot dogs, but at night the criminal element pours in from the neighboring ghetto making the streets very dangerous and all blonde people targets. Luckily someone realized this and built the Luna´s Castle hostal, a giant colonial mansion packed with rooms and endless partying. The first night I took the party bus around town, a retired US school bus with the seats taken out and replaced by a dance floor, a bar, a DJ, and some poles to hang on to (or show your skills on). I made a few attempts to leave the city for nearby attractions, but was thwarted at the beach by high prices, and shut down in the jungle by crazy rainstorms (which put a foot of water in my hostel that night). My primary goal in Panama City was to arrange a boat trip to Cartagena, and after a few days I had it all ready with Luke and Sarah.
Luke is the captain of the sailboat Nepenthe, which means anti-depressant in some language I can´t remember. Anyway, the 41ft sailboat is aptly named and the 5 day sailing trip removed every remnant of Panama City stress I had. The first 3 days were spent sailing through the remote San Blas archipelago, a string of tiny picturesque islands often with only one village, one house, or one palm tree on them. We snorkelled a shipwreck, barbecued on an uninhabited island, and fished. I got a little innovative with the fishing on this trip, catching jack (the fish, not the colloquialism) on the hand line and even catching a fish while in the act of snorkelling (sort of an underwater pet on a leash). We hooked into a few big ones, including a 9ft nurse shark, but weren´t able to get the monsters into the boat. After playtime was over we set sail, but there was no wind so we took the sails down and used the engine to power us over to Cartagena, a 36 hour voyage.
After the dighy dropped me off I realized I had finally reached the South American continent. I checked into the hostel and went out to explore the walled city in the heart of the larger metropolis. Cartagena is full of balcony-lined historic buildings, salsa music, and expensive beer. My anxiety of seeing my long lost girlfriend was growing quite a bit at this point so I didn´t do too much the first few days.
On Wednesday I picked Viviana up at the airport and set off to show her my honed traveling know-how on an excursion to a volcano filled with mud you can bathe in. We took the city bus down to the terminal and hopped on the connecting bus for the hour
and a half journey to the volcano. Three hours later I was starting to think I may have made a mistake. We got off at the completely uninteresting town of Barranquilla, ate some chicken and started back for Cartagena. On the way back the bus pulled up to a line of traffic 15 minutes out of the Cartagena that looked fairly normal, until we saw cops running by with their guns drawn. The bus made a speedy 10 point turn on the narrow road and went to a nearby gas station so the driver and passangers could yell at eachother for a half an hour. We slowly found out that there was a riot because the town had been without electricity for a month, and some teenagers began lighting things on fire and throwing rocks at the cops in the middle of the street. Luckily it was cleared up after another hour and we eventually made it home.Two days after my humbling experience, we headed out to Santa Marta, a beach town where the locals come to party on the weekends. From here we plan to take care of some last minute travel arrangements and do some camping and swimming in the Parque Tayrona. With Central America under my belt and South America under my feet I feel ready for whatever comes next...
