Panama City and Santa Catalina, Panama

Ash and I decided to head off to Panama City, to check out what everybody does when they go to Panama-- check out the Panama Canal. My initial first (and lasting) impressions of Panama City were 1) new buildings and construction EVERYFREAKINWHERE. Global financial crisis? Not here. 2) the noisy ass Diablos Rojos. Think of your old elementary school bus, add some random grafitti, an exhaust system you can hear a mile away, and a mad scientist at the helm and you pretty much have your basic bus transportation in Panama City.

From Panama City and Santa Catalina, Panama

3) There are ten million banks. Panama City is going places, ladies and gentlemen. I don't know if it has anything to do with the expansion of the Panama Canal, but there is a serious amount of foreign investment going on.

Anyway, Ash and I met up with Jenn (UK), and a couple, Reggie (Nebraska) and Clay (New Zealand) at the hostel to check out the Panama Canal for the day. It really was not as exciting as I thought it would be, but, there are just some things you have to see. Interesting thing about Clay-- he has been travelling and working for 14 freakin years! He works six months a year, then travels the other half. Truly an inspiration. After the canal, we all had dinner at a Chinese restaurant, and I actually had the chance to speak to the waitress in Cantonese and translate the Spanish menu in English to my fellow gringos. As as sidenote, I think Panama has the highest percentage of Chinese in South/Central America.

There was not much else to do in Panama City after a couple of days, and I felt like surfing again, so upon the recommendation of a few friends at the hostel, Ash and I decided to head out to Santa Catalina. Actually, how it all played out was that we woke up at 11am that day without a single clue where to go. Ash ended up talking to two Norwegian girls in their underwear for an hour or so, and was persuaded to check out Santa Catalina. The underwear, I am sure, had nothing to do with their credibility. Fair enough, we headed out anyway to find a totally secluded and sleepy beach town, with probably no more than 350 people living there. It was one of those places where the hotel manager also happens to be the waitress of the restaurant downstairs and oh yeah guess what she is the chef as well! Ok, slight exaggeration, but you get the drift. Hanging out in Santa Catalina for a few days was just what the doctor ordered, as Ash and I tried to make good on a week of sobriety, as well as a few good days of surfing.

One day, we went to "town" to eat, which really just meant where the bus stopped. The two public telephones also probably made it THE place to hang. Anyway, the first restaurant was closed, so we strolled down a few paces to another restaurant. I asked if the place was open, and the lady said yes. I asked if they were serving any food, and the lady looked at her husband (?) and the husband looked back at her, gave each other a weird hesitant look, and the lady told me, "Sorry, we do not have any food but there is another place down the street you can check out." I am absolutely convinced they just did not feel like getting up to work and cook. Such is life here in Santa Catalina...

Given the spontaneity in our decision to head to Santa Catalina, we overlooked the fact that there were no ATMs there. Because of that, Ash and I really had to conserve our cash. Our last night there, we had exactly $11 between us. At the restaurant, we saw that the cheapest meal was $6 for a plate of pasta. That meant we would only be able to have one plate and an appetizer or two between the two of us. I told Ash to check the hotel room for any leftover change he may have and he said, "I only have about 25 cents I think..." I told him to go and check anyway because, well, desperate times call for desperate measures. He came back a few minutes later with a huge grin, and proudly proclaimed he had $1.40 in change. SCORE!! That meant we could both order a plate of pasta, the highlight of my day. As I counted up the change to double check, I dropped a few coins on the floor. I freaked out for awhile as I practically went down on all fours searching for our precious pennies. It was good to remind ourselves the value of a few cents, as it literally meant the difference between one plate of pasta or two!