Snorkelling Island off Contadora

July 20, 2011
Pladventcher –on! The travelling road show has pulled up its Cocoa Beach stakes, and headed South to Panama. In true vagabond style, no less. In a fashion having become typical, this vacation is sandwiched between two of my airline trips, so having flown from San Antonio through El Paso through Houston through Nashville and finally arriving in Orlando, I dismounted from my trusty 737 and sprinted to the Southwest pilot lounge in MCO. There, I had prepositioned a roller bag with vacation gear, and hastily traded out my airline trip clothing for tropical gear. Since were flying standby on Copa Airlines, I felt that slight twinge of anticipation for most of my work day, hoping for 5 available seats, as if I were waiting for the roulette ball to drop. Black or red………..
Reb and the kids had already checked in at the Copa desk by the time I landed, so I quickly made way to the security line, thronged with travelers. Not seeing them, I proceeded to the employee line to expedite my passage through the TSA gauntlet. Near the front of the line, I caught up with my family, and with TSA approval, was able to pluck them from the cattle chute, where they joined me in the faster moving employee friendly line.
The Orlando employees of Copa airlines were wonderful stewards of customer service from start to finish, and got us our 5 seats spread throughout the cabin as standby travelers, as well as our precious cargo of surfboard bags and snorkeling gear safely stowed in the belly of the 737-800.
I couldn’t help contain a smile, as the plane rolled down the runway launching into another adventure as non-revenue passengers, feeling like we had just gotten away with something. Roulette wheel stops the ball has dropped, and we have a winner!!
3 hours (and the Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie) later, we could see the lights of Panama City as we circled to the East of the city, and joined a right downwind for Tocumen airport. Over the shoreline, we had a clear view of the lights of downtown, the Causeway, and the multitudes of ships awaiting their turn to transit with their cargo through the man made wonder of the modern world, the path between the seas, that is the Panama Canal.
As we touched down, as is customary, the passengers on board Copa 445 launched into a racuous applause upon hearing the Captain’s announcement, “Bienvenidos a Panama!”
Taxiing clear of the active runway, no gate was available, so we waited on the tarmac for a while, and Reb handled her claustrophobic anxiety without a scene. Luckily, she opted against a JetBlue flight attendant moment, and contained herself from grabbing a Panama beer, opening an emergency exit, deploying the slide, and jumping to freedom. We are all thankful for the little things.
Unexpectedly, there was nary a line at Customs or Immigration, so we retrieved our sporting gear, and headed for the Dollar Rental Car desk. At Dollar, we had the greatest interaction that I have ever experienced from a Panamanian rental car employee. As our plan fell into place, she notified us that a 7 passenger mini van, which we had reserved would be unavailable, and we would have to settle for the 12 passenger van. Darn the bad luck, and load up the vehicle we hoped for to begin with. She even arranged a more suitable price for that vehicle. As we have learned from experience, we attempted to thoroughly check the vehicle for any previously existing damage, but shockingly, the Dollar employee was more thorough than we were. I gratefully tipped him, but before I could prevent otherwise, Rebecca double tipped the guy, in a continuing effort to single handedly assist the economic plight of the Panamanian working class.
Joy all around, as we headed towards Panama City, as Dylan and Rachel pointed out the fairly risqué billboards donning the roadside advertising their wares in Latin fashion.
Within the city we had a few fits and starts finding directions to the condo, and finally had to stop at a gas station. We laughingly watched from the van as Reb conversed with a Panamanian guy in the store as he would wave his hands in the direction of travel, to be immediately mimicked by Rebecca’s gesticulation. After she broke out our map, our direction finder friend drew out the route, and we realized we were very close to our condo destination. Off we went for the few remaining blocks.
At the condo, we decided not to leave any belongings in the car, and that necessitated a climb up 6 flights of stairs with ungainly and heavy surfboard bags. The rest of the gear we loaded into an archaic elevator for the 6 floor ascent, however, Reb and Rachel opted to walk since it was reported that there was some previous history of stranded elevator riders. Did I mention claustrophobic anxieties?
Just a short block away, we popped into “Grill 50” for a late evening meal, to include all our Panamanian favorites. We dined on cerviche, calamari, patacones, and bisteak and letting our travel tensions melt away whilst listening to the percussion laden boom boom boom of the Salsa music playing in the restaurant. Following our meal we were back to the flat for the rack! Buenos noches Panama!!