July 27, 2011
I have been posting most of my family’s vacation activities on pletchparadise for the last week while in Panama. Now, I am back on a Copa flight #446 bound for Orlando, from Panama City, Panama. What a relief ist is to get on a non-rev flight as planned, then feel that pushback from the gate. Last night was a pretty fitful night of sleep with our Panama City sleeping arrangements, combined with that ever present, low grade anxiety leading up to standby airline travel.
However, all has gone quite well, and as expected. First, a little about the sleeping arrangements: Just like our second night in Panama, last night was spent in Eddie’s mothers’ downtown condo It is a s bedroom 2 bath flat on the 6th floor of a building in urban downtown. In the 1st bedroom with the air conditioner, with 3 beds are 2 sets of parents from our travelling companion families. The living room also has a wall unit a.c.. Zac is on the floor sleeping on some sofa pillows, Dylan and Avery are sharing a futon-like couch, as well as Ryan on another futon. Lilly slept under the dining room table. Our room was the master, sans A.C., but we got some residual cool air from the living room wall unit, and a ceiling fan.
Between the city sounds of music, voices in the distant streets, and the traffic sounds, in conjunction with Rachel’s rough-house sleep and roll, it was mostly a sleepless night. We woke up at 5 a.m to go to Tocumen, the Panama city airport. The rush hour traffic had just began, however, we easily navigated through the downtown streets, to get our “maxi van” out onto Corredor Sur, and pointed towards the airport. At the airport, we dropped off allo of our bags at “departing flights” stop, while I returned the van to the Dollar counter. That van dropoff went well, and better than any previous rental experience. It was $390 for a week’s rental, and unbelievably no damage or fuel charges were added.
At the Copa counter, it paid to arrive early, as a long line formed behind us as we waited for service in true Panamanian style, the ticket agents being in no hurry to get the passengers to the gates. We had to shuffle 3 wet towels out of our checked baggage in order to stay in the proper weights for our bags. Each towel weighed 1 kilo each, bringing our gear bag down to the 25 kilo max weight. We were not so lucky with the surfboard bag fees. It had been crammed with 5 surfboards, and was about 6 kilos overweight, so there was no solution, and we were required to pay the full $75 plus overweight charges. Even though a supervisor was asked, for a fellow airline employee discount the answer was a big NO. It is hard to mount any substantial argument for a discount, when our travel fee was already a deep discount.
At the gate, Rebecca and the kids were assigned 4 seats together, and I got a solo seat in row 6, amongst a church mission group from Viera with a fellow co-worker’s son. Jammed in the middle seat, I managed to spill both my orange juice and coffee within a short amount of time. Great to be on a plane headed to Estados Unidos!!
Yesterday 7/26/2011
Noone got a good night’s sleep on our last night on Isla Grande’s Sister Moon hotel. The torrential rains started just after midnight, and the earth shuddering from the thunder and lightning began at 4 a.m. I do not exaggerate when I say earth shuddering. Those claps of thunder shook the hill we were perched on to the very foundation of our structures. The loudest thunder clap and earth shaking rumble I have ever heard. A true “tumbo mono” The hotel dog snuck into my open doored room seeking refuge, and even a swat from my pillow would not rustle him from the safety of that room, even as he slid burrowed further under my bed. As the storm progressed in intensity, the drops of rain began pelting downwards like steel shot exploded from a shotgun. Upstairs in the “kids” room, the roof began to leak, and Rebecca was up and shuffling the gear and luggage off the ever puddling floor.
As daylight broke, most of the storm had luckily subsided, and the intensity of the rain backed off. However, all of our towels, clothing, rash guards, bathing suits and gear which we hoped could dry overnight on the railings were soaked to their very fiber, and accumulated a lot of water weight. For our pack out, we had to isolate all of this wet gear, and using all the scrounged Ziplocs and plastic bags we could muster packed our tour electronics for rain prevention. Ziplocs should be a mandatory checklist item when travelling in Central America during rainy season .
Having gotten all surfboards, snorkel gear, wet gear, electronic and clothing repacked for travel, it was time to meet our water taxi, requiring a shirt hike around the island’s now-mud-ridden shoreline footpath. We all pitched in to get to the pickup dock, and the hotel even provided a wheel barrow and pusher.
Our group looked like a single file assemblage of Mount Everest Sherpas as we hauled our gear around the island’s edge. Iliardo showed up pretty close to our designated time with 2 panga boats. 1 for people, and one for gear. As we crossed the channel between Isla Grande and the Panamanian mainland, we all waved a cheery goodbye to island refuge of 4 days, and all the adventure we had. It was so great to do the real deal adventure travel. This ain’t no Sandal’s all inclusive, and it makes one feel like true pioneers of travel. Back at the panga launch, mainlandside, the dock dudes hurriedly and efficiently got our 2 vans loaded, and we again took to the highly curving, climbing, and descending road to Portobelo. This is quite a cool cultural stop.
We stopped first at the Chapel of Cristo Negro, then the Colonial Spanish Customs House, and fortress ruins from the once bustling Spanish town. For a number of centuries, this was the center of Spanish commerce, as well as the point in which most of the plundered South American Indian gold passed. At that time, it was 1/3 of all the world’s gold. Of course, due to this “rich” history, many pirates, privateers, and buccaneers also share in the history, including the likes of Sir Francis Drake, and Captain Morgan. Sir Francis Drake is purportedly buried in a lead coffin somewhere off the shore of Isla Grande, it a yet to be discovered watery tomb.
After the adult insistence on tourist pursuits, we realized we could no longer starve the children any longer. We stopped at a roadside restaurant named “Los Torres” listed as a good establishment in 2 tourist guide books. The conclusive recommendation was for the “cheeseburger in paradise”. I can personally attest to its greatness. Our entire group enjoyed their meals hers.
Back on the road we got on the new highway, and took the exit for the TransIsthmian Highway, getting off near the new Panama Canal bridge in the area of Paraiso. We took this opportunity to pass through the lush Soberania Parque nacional, observing the rainforest, flora, and waterfalls and beauty. Also along this route, we crossed the original Las Cruces trail, another route for colonial plundered treasure.
Next, we made a stop in Gamboa to give our travelling companions an up close and personal view of the Panama Canal. Rebecca, our local tour guide, provided a nearly continuous narration of facts about the area from a Canal Zonian’s perspective.
As a “must see” for any 1st time Panamanian visitor, we were compelled to stop at the Miraflores locks, and watched the entire, fascinating progress of 2 different container vessels transiting the Panama Canal, Southbound. Naturally, this view always serves to dredge up my memories of being a King’s Point engine cadet making that same transit, while aboard the MV American Eagle.
Since, by this point we were fully ensconsed in rush hour, our next turista diversin was Ancon Hill. As we passed though the Albrook area, I pointed to the top of Ancon Hill at the giant flag waving there, in all its Panamanian glory, and stated, “That’s where were going!” True to my word, then circumnavigating the harrowing Circle of Death, we ducked into the old Canal Zone in the shadow of the Administration Building, and started our ascent up towards the summit of the Hill. Passing the former Governor, and LT. Governor’s homes, then the Panama Vacation quarters, we parked at the summit’s gate which had been close. We crept through the hole in the fence, and started our final climb in flip flopped feet.
At the top of Ancon Hill, we took in the breathtaking view of the Pacific, Cosco Viejo, and downtown Panama City, and on the Canal side, ships tranisiting the canal, the port of Balboa, Albrook airfield, and the Bridge of America’s. Off in the distance, the peaks on either side of the canal indicated to us the beginning of the famous Galliard Cut. Not surprisingly, at this point, the turista crew was reaching an evening state of fatigue and hunger, so we started down the road whence we came, but not before discovering a scratching sloth lazily suspended in a tree. We also met Captain Andy on his nightly ascent to fitness up the Ancon road.
We got the crew loaded up, and made it to our last glorious meal in Panama, out on the causeway at Penka’s. A fitting conclusion to our “families of Cocoa Beach meet Central America, non-surf, surf and snorkeling adventure!”
