10/17/2008
Friday morning, we sent the kids to school for half day as we will be going down to Panama this afternoon. Dylan takes two tests this day. Rebecca and I spent all morning making last minute preparations for the trip. Christina shows up with Ed at 1130 to travel with us to the airport. Ed will not be making the trip this time. We get on the road just a little bit after noon with an attitude full of cheer, and a carload of luggage and surfboards. At the airport, we get what could possibly be the kids first experience checking bags, and having reserved seats, a reflection of being an “airline family”. We meet another Grimison family at the airport, and check in with Rachel, Mary Jane, and Eric Grimison. We are assigned seats 19 A-F, and the kids take in the movie, Get Smart, and Dylan also starts a bit of his homework. Rachel P. talks the whole way to Panama, no doubt, an expression of her enthusiasm to travel.
After a 3 hour flight, we arrive in Panama, and experience a brief hassle passing through Customs, as we have not paid the appropriate fees, and filled out the appropriate forms. After accomplishing the requisite entry requirements, we are happily rewarded by the standard “sledge hammer” stamp to our passports, and entry permissions. Our rental car awaits, a Dodge Caravan, where we accomplish another load out, right UP to the surfboards on the racks. We wind through Panama City in trail of Tia Rachel’s Tia, searching for Nueva Napoli. It is located in OBarrio, and we find the restaurant, which is guarded by an armed security guard. After speaking with the “Watchie Man”, I can enter Napolis safely knowing the surfboards will be well watched for as we dine. Napolis pizza is as yummy as ever, especially when washed down with a Central American Coca Cola, which somehow tastes sweeter than Stateside.
After a nice meal, we are ready to proceed to old Canal Zone, and find the Panama Vacation Quarters on Quarry heights. Throughout the drive into CZ, Rebecca and Christina reminisce about the old days, and we are all amazed to see the size of the container terminal which has been constructed in Balboa. I see the same street I walked down 25 years ago, upon going ashore off the U.S. Lines ship, American Leader as a cadet from the USMMA. Who would’ve known that my future, loving wife was living just a few short blocks away in La Boca.
We arrive at the PVQ (Panama Vacation Quarters), and make haste to bed as the kids are travel weary, and Rachel P is “off the hook” as she cries stating, “I don’t like anything about this place” over and over through fits of sobbing. A symptom of a long, fatiguing day of travel.
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