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Published: August 6th 2007
Panama City
Winner of the most colourful, coolest bus in Central America award.Attention all those shoe stringers out there looking to get to South America quick, easy and cheap. If you are one of those travelers who eats in restaurants with walls or sleeps in hotels with a concrete floor then this information is not for you, otherwise please read on.
There are several ways to get from Panama to Colombia. The first and most dangerous is to walk a few weeks through the Darien Gap. If you are lucky you will not get shot or robbed by guerillas trying to smuggle bags of cocaine across the border, you might not starve to death from lack of provisions but perhaps you will be eaten by a crocodile. The second option is the most popular which is to take a yacht for about 5 days along the coast stopping at the San Blas Islands, beautiful but expensive running at about $250. Another option and the most expensive is to fly direct to a city in Colombia. However there is an alternative. First, get to Panama City and catch a small 15-seater Twin otter plane to the Panamanian border town of Puerto Olbadia, you can even book this over the internet at www.aeroperlas.com and
Granada
Church of San Francisco, the oldest in Central America initially constructed in 1524 costs around $60. It is advisable to do this about a week in advance as seats sell fast. Next get your exit stamp from the Panama Consulate and catch a boat to the Colombian border town of Carpuganá which costs $10 ( 1hr) Get your entry stamp here and you probably need to stay overnight to get the boat to Turbo the next morning for $20 (2hr) From Turbo you can go to Medellin $30 (8hr) or Cartegená for the same price bringing the total cost to around $120 and technically only 2 days travel.
My experiences on the island of Ometepe left me a little shaken but not stirred. I decide its time to move on, destination Colombia! I jump on there first bus heading south and encounter two Spanish Girls, Sandra and Margarita, they are heading to Costa Rica too and we decide to team up. We arrive at the border mid afternoon and everything is going well. Borders are like gateways to another dimension, as you walk through everything changes, the money, the people, the cars, the condition of the roads and of course the prices! Costa Rica is the most expensive country in Central America
Mountain Range
Santa Ana Costa Rica and Nicaragua being the cheapest I can already feel it burning a hole in my wallet.
Strangely enough, even the air smells different, distinctly more clean and fresh. One of the best imports to Latin America from Spain has to be the annual town festival, no matter where you are from, every town in Spain has a carnival that lasts anything from 2 days to 2 weeks and usually involves excessive drinking, dancing and music. On the road just outside the border marked "Annual festival this weekend" Sandra and Margarita upon seeing the sign, in typical Spanish fashion decide to take a minor detour. Not having had the chance yet to experience a Latin festival joining them was mandatory. Whilst in the taxi to Santa Ana I notice that the forest has become lush, wild and bright green as opposed to the Nicaraguan dry, dusty sparse desert plains and I think for a moment how does the forest know where the border is? As expected, the price of the hotel rooms here is around 4 times that of Nicaragua but I am prepared as I have brought my $6 hammock and luckily the hotel has a yard with a
San Jose
Bright Building couple of decent trees I can tie it to and for $2 its a bargain, However as I lay down in my hammock and stare up at the open sky I start to pray that is will not rain. Behind the hotel, there is a temporary stadium built for the carnival, apparently the Guanacaste province is cowboy country, so naturally the nights entertainment is an old fashioned rodeo. There is still plenty of daylight left so we head off to the nearby lookout where we are met by an excellent view of the surrounding mountains that extend out into the ocean.
The area around the arena is dirty and dusty; a fierce wind throws up all of the dirt and instigated the feeling of a true south western rodeo. The seated area is above budget so the next best bet is a spot perched, precariously on the fence which makes for one excellent but dangerous view. It’s an amazing sight seing huge bulls charge about with a tiny man atop being swung about in all directions until he hits the floor hard and runs for his life. Many of the Costa Ricans bravely enter the death pit to test
Panama City
Casca Viejo ( View of the old town ) the bulls’ patience and promptly flee as the bull charges toward them at lightening speed. After a few beers, I feel my confidence rise and dive into the pit as well and as I see the bull rush toward me I feel an intense rush of adrenalin that sends my flying up the side fence faster than I can blink but the bull runs straight into the fence and the force almost sends me flying of the other side head first., I decide its better off being a spectator from that point on. After many bulls, many falls and lots of suspense in between, the rodeo is over and the music starts and the dancing begins and lasts well into the morning when my hammock calls me.
The next morning I awake and bid the girls farewell as I head south to Nicoya in the hope of getting to the coast to see one of Costa Rica’s famous beaches. Nicoya is 2 hours from the coast and its lush green rainforest is breathtaking. Costa Rica was never really on my agenda mainly due to its high costs and my shoestring budget. However, the country has already started to entice
Panama City
Casca Viejo me to want to stay longer, the calm tropical breeze, beautiful tropical jungle and grand mountains remind of northern Guatemala yet much more accessible. If I hadn’t already booked my flight in Panama perhaps I would stay longer and get stuck here like I have in so many places before. I try to call and pre book my bus to Panama and find out that all seats are booked out until after my flight! I start to panic and try to phone another company but I cannot get through I decide its best to forget about the beach and head straight for San Jose.
San Jose like most other Central American capitals is designed in US based block framework which makes it easier to navigate around a town as the streets are numbered. Of course, Panaline the other bus company has plenty of seats available and I have a few days left so I decide to spend them here. In the nearby hostel, I met Jorge, a Panamanian blues guitar player and I spend most of the next couple of days jamming and learning various riffs and progressions that help my playing greatly.
The 18 hour direct bus
to Panama is not very eventful as I leave Costa Rica I realize that it has a great deal to offer and it seems like a unique jewel in the middle of Central America, hopefully one day I will return.
I arrive in Panama in the early hours of the morning and have 24 hours to explore the city. Panama City is probably the most modern looking of Central American capitals with many skyscrapers spread across the central business district. Old Panama, a historic site boasting a variety of ageing Spanish watchtowers and ruins is nothing to write home about if you have seen similar. Casca Vieja is more interesting, with colonial style architecture set against the ocean shoreline. It is situated close to the poor area of town, I see a few dodgy characters lurking around but I don’t feel unsafe. The police stop me and tell me it’s very dangerous here and have to wait for a police escort to take me back to my hotel, I don’t really want it but I am not going to back down a free ride. While waiting, I am approached by a prostitute offering her services, I decline and the
Little girl playing
Panama Domestic Airport policeman raises his eyebrows and remarks "You no like her, she only $15?" After my free ride back to the hotel from the "Panama tourist Police" I decide I have had enough of the city and wait patiently for my flight. I did not realize the plane is so small, most of the people’s luggage has to be stowed inside on empty passenger seats. The good thing is less people, less traffic and less time spent waiting in customs. Puerto Obaldia airport consists of an old shed and a short strip of concrete overrun with grass they call the runway. We arrive at the small boat, passports are stamped, bags are packed and one hour later I arrive in Colombia. The Port town of Carpuganá is a beautiful beachside resort town that is accessible solely by boat. I meet Claudio, a Chilean from the plane and we find a hostel nearby and I head off to immigration to stamp my passport. Unlike what many say, entry into Colombia is not that strict and I didn’t have to provide proof of funds nor a return air ticket. Upon leaving the office im confronted by two soldiers escorting a black lady towards
the immigration. They stop me and ask if I can help as the lady whose name is shela cannot speak any Spanish and she is trying to get to Panama. She is from South Africa and it turns out she "forgot" to get her entry stamp into Colombia when entering the country from Venezuela and is technically illegal in the country. Not only that, she needs a visa for Colombia as well as a visa for Panama if she wants to go there. Of course, she has to pay a large fine to be paid in the capital for being here illegally. After translating this devastating news, she breaks down crying and asks if there is anything else that can be done, the answer is no and the immigration withhold her passport until the boat to Turbo the following morning. We leave and I suggest to her to get a room with us in the hostel, she tells me she was robbed of $3000 in Turbo and that the Colombian people are all horrible thieves. She adds that she needs to get to Panama as she has friends there to look after her. She is almost at the point of
hysterics saying she has no money and pleading not to have to go back to South Africa. She asks me for some money to get the boat back but I decline when she refuses to tell me how much she actually has left. I begin to wonder about whether she is for real, its hard to believe she even got this far without speaking a word of Spanish and I start to think she trying to seek exile in Panama from some terrible past I cannot begin to imagine. She runs off to try to haggle a better price with the boatman whilst Claudio and I enjoy the exquisite tranquil beach surrounded by dense jungle, time passes, night falls and after dinner we return to the hostel to see that shelas bags are there but she isn’t. Where would a person who speaks no Spanish be at this hour in such a small town? We organise a search party but find nothing, we ask the local police and they seem to know quite abit about her yet don’t know her whereabouts and don’t really care either. Morning breaks and with no sign of the South African we give in her
At the beach
Carpuganà, Colombia bags to the immigrations and as we leave on the boat I think about whether I should of tried to help her more and think what could of possibly happened to her but I will never find out.
Atención las personas que quieren ir a la América sur rápido, barato y fácil. Si, tu eres una persona que gusta comer en un restaurante con paredes o quedes en una hotel con un piso concreta, no necesitas leer esta información.
Hay muchas opciones para ir a Colombia desde Panamá. Su primer opción es caminar a través de Jungla del darían y es muy peligroso. Hay mucho ladrones allá y crocodiles también. Su segunda opción es coger un yate por cinco días y es muy común para turistas pero cuesta $250. Una otra opción es volar a Colombia directamente y es el más costoso de todas. Sin embargo, hay una otra opción. Primero, vas para la ciudad de Panamá y tomas un avión pequeño para la frontera de Panamá. Hay un pueblo allá llama Puerto Obaldia, puedes conseguir un boleto en línea y vale $60. Necesitas cómpralo muy temprano porque no hay mucho espacio. Después, obtienes su cello de salida y tomas un barco pequeño por Carpuganá en la frontera con Colombia. ( $10) Obtienes su cello de entrada aquí y hay un barco par la ciudad de Turbo y vale $20, después puedes ir a otro partes de Colombia desde aquí.
Yo he tenido muchas experiencias buenas en Nicaragua pero no quiero quedar más tiempo aquí. Ya voy para Colombia en un bus para la frontera y me encuentro dos mujeres españolas y decidimos ir a Costa Rica juntos. Cuanto pasas a través de una frontera todos las cosas cambian. La naturaleza, los autos, la calidad de las calles y los precios. Costa Rica es un País más caro en toda América Central. Todos los pueblos en Latín América una vez cada año tienen un carnaval y es una tradición muy beuna. Cerca de la frontera es un pueblo llama Santa Ana que tiene el carnaval esta semana y pensamos es un muy buena idea para ir allá. Los hoteles son muy caros pero fortuna menta tiene un jardín donde puedo colgar mi hamaca por $2. Detrás de hotel es un ruedo grande de donde seré un rodeo en la noche. Tenemos mucho tiempo así podemos ver las alrededores del mirador. Aquí hay montañas muy grandes, mar también y recuérdame mucha Nuevo Zelanda. En los alrededores a cerca del ruedo es muy sucio y hay arena de todos lados. Cuando el viento viene el polvo se levante y penetra en mis ojos y otros partes también. Nos sentamos en el muro de la rueda. Es muy asombroso para ver a los hombres montados sobre los toros grandes. Es un espectáculo de emoción y suspenso cuando los hombres caen al suelo y corren por sus vidas. Muchas Costa Ricenses saltan a la rueda para provocar a los toros. Después, tomo algunas cervezas y siento más confianza y salto a dentro también. Cuando veo que el toro viene hacia mi siento mucha adrenalina, entonces me quedo sin respiración y salto por el muro muy asustado. Pero el toro se estrella contra el muro y la pared tiembla y yo casi me caigo. Llego pienso que es mejor quedar me afuera.
Después mochos toros, muchos caídos y mucho excitación el rodeo termina y la música empieza. Bailamos y cantamos hasta bien entrada la noche. Al siguiente día quise ir al sur y saludar a unas amigas y me fue. Nicoya es un pueblo que estas dos horas de la costa. Las alrededores de acá son muy bonitos con una selva muy verde, grandes montañas y una brisa muy fresca. Me siento muy tranquilo y me quiero quedar aquí mucho tiempo. Pero, las cosas son muy costosas y tengo un boleto de avión para irme a Panamá. Llego muy pronto por la capital San José a donde puedo comprar un ticket para Panamá. Tengo dos días en San José y encuentro un hombre Panameño que es un guitarrista de blues. Me pase todos los días tocando con el y aprendo mucho.
El viaje para Panamá duro dieciocho horas. Llego a la Ciudad de Panamá temprano y tengo un día para verla. Es una ciudad más moderna de las otras ciudades de Centro América y tiene mucho rascacielos. Panamá Vieja es el centro histórico y tiene hermosas baluartes. En la otro lado de la ciudad hay un barrio que se llama Casca Vieja y es muy interesante con por su arquitectura colonial y esta cerca del mar. En los alrededores hay mucha gente humilde. Veo Algunas personas sospechosas pero no siento miedo. La policía me encontró y me digo que estaba en un sector muy peligroso que debo esperar para escoltarme y poder salir del barrio. Cuando espero, una prostituta me pregunta si yo deseo acostarme con ella, le respondió que no y la policía se sorprenden de me porque yo no quiero sexo con ella. Después ellos me llevaron a mi hotel decido que no quiero ve mas de esta ciudad. El avión que sale para Puerto Obaldia es tan pequeño que debo colocar el equipaje dentro del avión en las sillas desocupadas. El aeropuerto de Puerto Olbadia tiene una pista llena de pasto y no sabia si podía aterrizar el avión. Mi sellan el pasaporte, mi poner la equipaje en la cubierto en la barco y llego un tan solo una hora a Carpuganá que es un pueblo con unas playas muy bonitas y el mar color azul muy intenso. Con mi amigo Claudio que conozco de tiempo detrás encontramos un dormitorio. Voy a cellar pasaporte y cuando salgo de Inmigración encuentro dos soldados que llevan una chica muy negrita que no habla español y ellos pregúntame que si yo les puedo colaborar como interprete con la mujer. Ella me dice que quiere ir a Panamá pero se le olvida cellar el pasaporte para entrar a Colombia. La policía me dice que ella necesita una visa para poder estar en el país y ella técnicamente esta ilegal. Cuando yo traduzco eso, ella se poner a llorar. Me Dice que necesita regresar a Medellín para pagar un multa. Ella me dice que no tiene nada de dinero por que ladrones le robaron de tres mil dólares y piensa que todos los colombianos son banditos. Ella me pregunta si yo puedo prestarle dinero pero elle no quiere decir cuando tiene. Ella se fue y mucho tiempo después no regresa por el hotel. Organizamos una buscada para encontrarla pero fue en vano. A la mañana siguiente ella no aparece y regresamos su equipaje a la policía. Cuando nos fuimos en el barco pienso yo pude a ver hecho algo para ayudarla, me pongo a pensar y reflexiona a sobre ella pero nuca puedo saber que sucede.
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