36 hours in panama
I was half certain I was going to get shot or at least mugged by the gambling cartel security guards that were talking quickly in spanish wondering who the fuck I was and why a gringo was walking down their alley at 10pm, but then that’s how the best nights usually start. Let me back up…
day 1 - after an epic all night packing, planning, boozing, and haircut session (thanks JT!) I actually made it to the airport on time. early even. (who am i?) the next 10 hours were a long nap stretched across 2 planes to Houston (hi gingi) then to Panama City.
Clear customs? Check.
Bag shows up? Check. (thanks salym!)
OK, now what? No place to stay and a very tentative grasp of spanish managed to get me into a cab and on my way to the city. The first hostel that I manage to get the driver to take me to is on a dark street and looks way sketch. The driver has my bags on the curb before I can manage to mumble something in spanish that conveys “please take me somewhere else”. I point on a map and somehow he has no idea where these hostels are (seriously, half the cabs in panama city can’t find places even on a map. cabs must just know very specific areas here but no one seems to be able to explain it) but I eventually get to Zuly’s Independent Backpackers where I’ve been posting up ever since. The place is bare bones but there’s lots of travelers and its right in the heart of things which is a good place to start.
Since I slept all day I dropped off my bags and ran out to see the area. 6 bars/clubs later, no wild tales to speak of, but here are a few notes:
- They *do* celebrate halloween here and all the clubs are decked out crazier than in SF
- They *dont* have Jamison, but Jonny Walker is everywhere and the local rums are quite tasty
- Karaoke in Panama is just as rad as it is back home, even when you know no one and everything is in spanish
- A nice haircut and an american accent will get you into fancy clubs, even if you are wearing hiking boots.
Oh, and they use american money here which I suppose i should have known but didnt and it is a little weird to get quarters and dimes from a street vendor in a foreign city.
Back to the hostel after a few hours, drinking wine with the owner and a british traveler until 5am on the balcony is exactly why i love to travel. It’s her last night and my first, so she passes me her travel vibes to continue the journey.
day 2 - is waking up at noon silly on your first day in a new country? HELL NO! breakfast from a street vender selling lunch, booking a panama canal tour, and off to Casco Viejo part of town, best summed up as beautiful but potentially dangerous. perfect. to once again cut several hours into a sentence: the architecture and views were beautiful, the area was practically empty so i had it to myself, and eventually i ended up drinking wine in a breathtaking courtyard and then wandering off and having a beer with a canadian guy who couldnt catch a cab back to town.
turns out he’s here on business and he works for an online gambling company. they have their “call center” in this city for various legal reasons. and as we share a cab home he shows me the location of the office down an alley, and “can’t invite me in because of security reasons” but if i want to meet here at 10pm i could join them on a party bus.
so i do.
its a 25 minute walk from my hostel to the office, and especially since i’ve been drinking i leave everything valuable at the hostel so there are no pictures from this night, alas. i get there around 10 and walk down the alley to the office. there are a lot of people hanging out outside so it seems to be the right place… only no one knows my new friend Jeff and hardly anyone speaks english. and a handful of them are large and have walkie talkies and are a bit concerned. despite this obvious concern, they are polite and give me a chair to sit outside while they try to figure out what i’m doing there, and finally they get a hold of jeff on the phone and pass it to me. only its not my jeff, its the guy who runs the call center here jeff and he is trying to figure out if i’m undercover or just stupid. (there’s a third option right?) so this is when i start to wonder if i’m going to get jumped and am glad i have only $40 in my pockets. but it turns out i dont get jumped, i actually just get told to leave… and never come back. and as i’m walking away, my jeff walks down the alley, 30 minutes late. :) it turns out no one actually knows him, but a girl he’s with clears things up and now its all good! eventually the bus does show up, and there’s a dj and an open bar, and we cruise the causeway along the water for a few hours hanging out windows and dancing to spicy latin beats. que fabuloso! they even drop me off at my hostel on the way back.
and that was my first 36 hours in panama.
