On the road in Panama

We left Panama City behind, and boarded a rather empty bus heading west to David, from where we planned to travel around by rental car. The bus ride along the only major highway in the country was unremarkable and surprisingly light on traffic, the presumed reason for which we only understood later. Large checkpoints were noticeable when crossing from one province to another, and there was a thorough passenger check on our bus, likely aimed at preventing illegal migration (at least the obvious kind).

Our goal with the rental car was the province of Bocas del Toro in the northwest by the Caribbean Sea, where we intended to celebrate Freddy's birthday. However, that didn't happen. After some time navigating the winding jungle mountain roads, we hit a dead end: a supposedly fallen tree turned out to be a blockade set up by protesting banana plantation workers. Although we had noticed small marginal notes in the international press about ongoing protests related to perceived unjust pension reform laws, we did not expect to be affected by it in any way. In any case, there was no way to proceed and no clear information about when and if the blockades would be lifted. On the contrary - hardly anyone wanted to speak with us at all, and most avoided our questions silently and anxiously. This was surprising for us, as we had always encountered helpfulness on our travels so far (not always proactive, but never rejecting). Since we didn't want to risk not being able to leave the province on our way back (as there were no alternative routes), even if this current blockade would eventually be lifted, we turned back with heavy hearts. Then it started to rain very heavily, making driving very strenuous. Eventually, we exhaustedly reached the Pacific coast instead of the Atlantic and quickly had a birthday beer on the beach at sunset before the rain became so heavy that power (and internet anyway) went out in our accommodation. A situation we experienced quite a few times. But going to bed early does have its benefits.

Now, a new plan was necessary, and we decided to head back east to a small town called Santa Fé (on the way is San Francisco), where there were supposed to be some nice hiking routes. On the way, we were first stopped by a traffic cop on a motorcycle who claimed we were speeding (though we were very sure that was not true). From his long flowery monologue about laws, which we could somewhat follow, it became clear he wanted $50. But not with us! Ready to walk the distance with him to show us the alleged traffic sign, we protested vigorously, and surprisingly he quickly backed down, returned our previously confiscated driver's license, and let us go without any penalty, avoiding eye contact and visibly uncertain. In hindsight, we learned that Panamanians apparently are not big fans of direct conflicts, especially when initiated by women (though he had started it!). So, we were lucky again.

After an extremely exhausting drive (the road conditions beyond the mentioned highway were atrocious and even worse than what we had experienced in South America), we finally reached the sleepy Santa Fé, where there was a bit of basic tourist infrastructure but mainly locals could be found. Although we were now far from the 'disturbance province' of Bocas del Toro, some impacts were also felt here. For example, in restaurants, almost nothing corresponded to the menu. We were told it had to do with supply shortages. Furthermore, people feared that the protests would escalate nationwide, and that their goods might not be sold or arrive, which is why many wouldn't order anything at all. Consequently, there was also little traffic on the streets. Nevertheless, we enjoyed some pleasant days in the village.

In the village, Jesús Héctor Gallego Herrera is highly revered, a Colombian priest who tirelessly fought for land workers' rights and founded the organization into cooperatives against the military junta's resistance until he was ultimately kidnapped and murdered; a typical approach from the 70s concerning social resistance. Even today, he remains a pillar of identity and a role model for social progress, unusually coming from the Catholic Church. During our stay, the anniversary of his death was celebrated, and the village was adorned with garlands and his likeness. Through a tip from locals, we learned there is a fairly new road from Santa Fe to the Pacific, which, although already four years old, has not yet made it to Google Maps. It allowed access to villages that could previously only be reached by boat. A beautiful route winding through the jungle, passing small villages, or just individual settlements/houses, albeit largely without electricity. In Calovébora, we finally observed the lively activity at the beach, where goods were being loaded onto small boats to bring them to villages on islands/on the mainland without road access. These places may be remote, but beer supply remains stable!

Since our time in Panama was very limited in total, we then set out on the way back. We found that all slightly larger towns/cities like Santiago de Veraguas or David were absolutely unappealing and ugly, and apparently, most of the country's money flows only into the capital while the rest of the country is neglected. The landscape was very beautiful, and we spent a short time in Las Lajas on the Pacific coast, wonderfully calm and relaxing.

Then it was already time to return the car, also because we had to leave for Costa Rica a day earlier than planned (our bus had been cancelled, presumably also a result of a society that had partially come to a standstill).

Panama is a country that leaves us somewhat divided and bewildered. Of course, the timing was not favorable for traveling in the country, and the time was simply too short. Panamanians seem very reserved and not easy to approach, but that may also be due to the specific circumstances. But one could sense that this changes when they warm up a bit. The nature is beautiful, and there is much primal beauty to be found, but one needs time and a certain affinity for potholes. A country we might want to explore again someday when we have more time.