October 21, 2009 “Dry Season Day”It feels so god to sleep-in as the sun is shining full and the North breeze blows side-shore along the coastline. As I awake, Rebecca has already taken her post in the hammock strung between the porch pillars. With a smile, she explains this gem of a day to be “just like a dry season day!” After continuing our tradition of morning reading, we go for a walk on the beach during the low low tide. For 100 yards, bowling ball sized, rounded and smooth rocks line the shore from the mid tide line to the water line. Usually submerged, the tide has exposed this rocky span.
Rebecca wades and relaxes in a tidal pool which is comfortably warmed by the hot Central American sun. We enjoy a lazy chat, a true luxury for a busy father and mother of 3.
The climate is nearly perfect and we contemplate our relaxing vacation, and the site of our next meal. It is a pick by Rebecca, a Mexican restaurant named Cholo’s.
Cholos is owned by an American, and we finally find it open after our 3rd attempt of the week. His name is Owen, and is a personable surfer from Virginia Beach. Cholos’s hospitality trumps entrée quality, however, the homemade nachos are tasty. It is frequented by many expats.
Next, we head into Coronado for Reb’s visit to the spa for a pedicure and manicure. The tide is correct for some waves at Playa Teta, so we stop there first.
Although there is a small groundswell,, a strong North wind is killing the surf. The waves are doubling up and taking on a surface texture similar to aqua corduroy.
I catch a scant 3 waves and call it quits for my Panama surf trip.
The Rio Teta has cut a new course through the beach line, and now runs parallel to the coast before depositing its flow of river water into the Pacific. Also, careful navigation while barefoot must be practiced through the moderate current stepping over the rock covered bottom.
As Rebecca gets her spa pampering, I call the kids and check emails. As our Coronado afternoon closes, it is sadly time to pack for tomorrow’s journey home.
We arrive back at the Holland beach home to pack, and prepare for dinner at Pizza Picasso, owned by Jim and Teresa, some Zonian friends.
Although we are a day early for Pizza Picasso’s “soft opening”’ we are nevertheless treated to some brick-fired pepperoni pizza and even finer conversation.
1/22/09
Awoke at 0400 for a 0500 departure from the playa. The Inter American Highway traffic is great until we arrive at the outskirts of Panama City and the former U.S. bases west of La Puente de Las Americas. Since we left so early, time is not too much of a factor, and we arrive at the Tocumen airport in a leisurely mood. The rental return almost becomes an issue as a slight argument ensues about some pre-existing rental damage. Luckily, the records were checked, and we are held harmless.
A most pleasant and personable Copa rep checks us in and notifies us, "You will have no problem getting a seat today!" Words that are virtually unheard of in the non-revenue world. Again the surfboard is flown gratis under a current promotion.
Passing through security, I am searched after the X-ray machine, having innocently left my Swiss Army knife in my backpack. Not wanting to go through the hassle of checking it, I say goodbye to the old friend of 20 years, which accompanied me through SERE school in the U.S. Navy in 1988.
Our breakfast at the buffet line is frequented by swarms of airline/airport employees and is priced well. Up the escalator to the right past the la turista ristorante and into the buffet line. My breakfast is $3.15 total!!
Rebecca's anxiety of airplane clustrophobia is stemmed from a holic nerve tab she has discovered, but we are nevertheless last to board.
Goodbye Panama 2009.
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