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Latest Update: 16^th April 2008

That is the end of our trip through South America; 21621 kms later we are in Panama. We pick up the TC from the docks tomorrow morning and set off through Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala and Mexico to end up crossing the border into the USA at Douglas.

Hasta luego

Bob and Lynne

Let’s play a word association game. I say a word and you think of the first word that pops up in your head. OK. I say "Panama". You say…? Time’s up. I bet you thought "hat". Just for the record, Panama hats come from Ecuador; the best are made in Cuenca, and the very best are still hand-made by a couple of small shops in Cuenca.

The smarty-pants will have seen the ruse and maybe said "canal". So, I also bet that when you think of the Panama Canal, you think, like we did, of a long, narrow canal that links the Caribbean Ocean with the Pacific Ocean, thus saving container ships weeks of sea travel around some of the most treacherous waters in the world.

It isn’t a long, narrow canal at all. Well, it is 80 kilometers from one sea to another, so it is long. Most of it is a wide natural waterway, more a string of lakes at different levels than a channel, with a series of locks to raise and lower ships between the various levels. It is these locks that are narrow. The first ships that passed through these locks in 1914 had plenty of room. Today’s huge container and bulk carriers only just fit, most have one meter to spare either side. It is fascinating to watch as these monsters are guided through an impossibly tight gap. This is the only place on earth where a captain gives up control of his ship.

Many people think that it is possible to drive the Pan American highway all the way from South to North America, through Colombia and into Panama. There is a distance of 54 kilometers that are impassable dense jungle known as the Darien Gap. It is reputed to be the territory of the lawless, bandits and drug runners. In reality it is a much debated piece of land where local inhabitants, conservationists and other interested parties are trying to hold off the day when tarmacadam replaces rainforest. Perhaps it would be handy to be able to drive the whole length of the Americas; handy that is if you fancy driving through the lawless bandit and drug runner territory known as Colombia.

Many things in life are not as you would expect. We thought Panama City would be all about the canal and port, seedy and scruffy like most ports with the usual fair share of lowlife, backed by an unattractive, charmless city. The canal is not just a marvel of engineering, but also scenic. Panama is a long narrow country with Costa Rica at its westerly border and Columbia at its easterly border. The canal cuts the country in half at its narrowest point.

The port of Bilboa is located to the east of the canal on the Pacific ocean, the city sits further to the east well away from the canal and port, a modern bustling city of high rise office blocks where a huge amount of worldwide trade is negotiated and managed. To the west of the canal there begins a string of beachfront development that sprawls as far as the Costa Rica border.

We didn’t have too long a wait for the TC to arrive by container ship. What we did have to wait for was the paperwork – reams of the stuff. If we thought that getting the TC into a container in Guayaquil was difficult, getting it off the dockside in Bilboa was like plaiting sawdust. I won’t bore you with details, but it’s a good job I don’t carry a firearm, otherwise there would be a pile of bodies to clear up. Maybe it’s time to invest in a cattle prod.

Travelling west along the Pacific Coast we soon realised that a formerly sleepy string of small, coastal villages with cabanas or small hotels is being bought up, demolished and replaced by executive residential resorts with golf courses, marinas, health spas, all gated and security guarded to protect those who can afford it from the local Panamanians who cannot. "Absolute beachfront" has hit Panama.

We found one of the few cabana hotels that are left: a blissful setting overlooking the tepid Pacific, perfect for swimming, snorkelling, fishing or dry-roasting. Panama is green and lush and colourful. The natives are friendly. The roads are good. The driving standards are as near normal as we have had for months. We could buy fresh fruit and veggies and eat salads again. The mangoes are to die for. To use motivational speak, Panama under-promised and over-delivered.

We headed further west towards David before heading inland and uphill towards Boquete. Approaching David, we both suddenly felt even hotter than normal, like sticking your head into a fan oven. The temperature must have gone up by at least 5C in the space of 30 seconds. We were wet through. I personally was really pleased that my nose isn’t any nearer to my feet. How do people live in this? Praise the Lord for airconditioning.

Boquete is at the head of a long, straight steady climb, up into the cloud forest. We were basically driving the long sweep up of an extinct volcano to go in search of the quetzal. What we found was a sprawling mountain village surrounded by a spider’s web of single track roads that wound around precipitous slopes covered in a patchwork of coffee, banana and tropical fruit plantations. Half of the place is just out of the cloud line, half is in the clouds. The difference in temperature is amazing; you can virtually draw a line on the ground to mark the transition.

What, you may ask, is a quetzal? It’s a bird, but no ordinary bird. Its full title is Resplendent Quetzal, and for good reasons. I still don’t know how big it is, but it has tail feathers twice the length of it’s body. It has a body of garnet red, with back and wings and tail feathers of brilliant emerald green. It has a crown of chestnut brown tufts, sort of punkish, and a small beak that gives it a "Tweetie Pie" expression, like the canary in Tom and Jerry cartoons. It is, above all else, a devil to spot.

We walked a mountain trail to bag our first quetzal. We were in cloud forest as opposed to rain forest. What’s the difference? With rainforest, sometimes it stops raining. Cloud may conjure up airy fairy pictures but you are basically in cloud and clouds carry water in suspension so really you are walking through mizzle. Which is good because at least it is cool.

Cloud and rain forest come in three layers – a lower storey of ground cover plants, a middle storey of mid-sized shrubs and low trees that tolerate shade and an upper storey of trees 20 to 30 meters high, all covered with plants and climbers that supported other plants and climbers in a jumble of jungle. Green is punctuated by vividly coloured flowers, dragonflies and butterflies.

Cloud forest is not quiet; it is full of bird song. You can come up with any number of randomly generated sounds and there is a bird somewhere that makes that sound. There are reversing lorries, a squeaking swing door that desperately needs some 3:1 oil, a bird that sounds like it is reading from an opticians eye chart, and then there is the "ooooo ooooo" where the first "ooooo" is higher pitched and the second "ooooo" is lower pitched. That sound was all around; it is the sound of the quetzal. How many did we see? A big, round zero.

We tramped uphill until we found a huge amphitheatre of vertical rock walls dripping with waterfalls and no sign of a way up. The track so far had been well walked until we ended up walking up a stream bed and emerged into this open space. The bit of track ahead had vegetation brushed aside, like animals make when they habitually tread the same path. There are leopard and jaguar in Central America. Sometimes it pays not to dwell on the possibilities.

We thought the best chance we stood of sighting the illusive quetzal was in a bird and animal sanctuary further down the side of the volcano. The guy who owned the sanctuary used to own a TC. Still no quetzals but instead a host of neurotic birds and animals suffering from the effects of silly people. They had a pair of macaws, until very recently the property of a Colombian drug baron. The birds will be waiting for him on his release in 50 years time. Not.

It isn’t just the birds, flowers and butterflies that are a riot of colour – the national costume of Panamanian women comes in gawdy, bright colours too. Floor length baggy dresses straight out of the Stepford Wives are worn by many women in rural areas, and even by young girls. Maybe they are cool. I would have thought that the national costume of anyone living in this climate would be precisely nothing.

Panama also makes world prize winning coffee. That came as a surprise too. So, we went on a coffee plantation tour. We now know how to grow, pick, process and roast coffee. We know that no matter what the quality of coffee bean you start with, bad roasting will ruin it. A mild roast will give you the full nuances of the bean but with acidity that hits the front of your tongue; medium roast will be less acidic, and dark roast will have no acidity at all but loose most of the complicated flavours. It will also take on a smooth, choclatey flavour. Over roast will taste bitter.

The worst enemy of coffee beans and ground coffee is oxygen. Open a pack of vacuum sealed coffee and straight away the deterioration starts. After 3 weeks, chuck it away or drink more. The second enemy of coffee is boiling water, so let the jug rest for a minute before throwing water on coffee. People who use percolators should be shot at dawn. Plungers and mocha style coffee makers are fine. Those high tech shiny contraptions that take up such a huge amount of space are also fine, as are coffee filters. This is according to Guru the Guide.

If you want to box clever, buy only beans and put them in the freezer and invest in a grinder. Buy single estate, 100% Arabica guaranteed organically grown, shade grown, high altitude coffee beans. That means buy Panamanian coffee beans. Never heard of Panamanian coffee? Us neither until our coffee plantation tour. So where does it go? High end restaurants and high class retail outlets in the USA.

The only downside to Panama was the police checkpoints. After our experiences in South America we decided not to speak a word of Spanish, act daft and really make them work for whatever they wanted. We also decided not, under any circumstances, to hand over our original passports. Apparently they have no right to ask for them, photocopies will do. One particular checkpoint was manned by a couple of awkward b------s who demanded to see the originals and wouldn’t let us pass.

I opened up my passport and held on tight to one end. He pulled at the other, so I pulled on my end and he….. We played a game of tug of war for a while and he let go, cursed us, foolishly turned around so Roberto hit the accelerator and made a break for the hills. The official was jumping up and down on the spot shouting but couldn’t be bothered to give chase. Roberto swears he heard him tell us to get outa here. I never heard a thing.

We had five police stops in Panama; every time we worked the "no understand" act and it worked. The only way to find out if they were genuine or private enterprise was to give them the documents they wanted and see what happened, but by then it would be too late so not engaging in any form of dialogue was the better option.

The border crossing into Costa Rica was, we suspect, symptomatic of what we are to face throughout Latin America. Touts posing as officials approached with offers of help to guide us through the procedures and then of course, they want money. We can now cross borders blindfold but they don’t understand "no". We have also entered the land of the photocopy. They want multiple copies of every document, which we carry always, and then do nothing with them, insisting on seeing the originals to process us and the car. Somewhere along the line the photocopies disappear. Maybe they have shares in timber companies.