Well, I *am* a tourist...

Day 17, Monday, July 23^rd

Goooooooood morning Panama! Okay, maybe I’m not Robin Williams, and I’m pretty sure no army would want to listen to my radio show, but who likes fighting anyhow?

It is a lovely Monday morning, made doubly so by the fact that I get to sleep late (9ish?). I lay in bed and read A Clash of Kings until my stomach not so subtly informs me that it requires food... now. So Beth and I get up and dressed and such and walk across the park to the restaurant where we ate lunch yesterday, as we have seen they have breakfast. I’m feeling some pancakes this morning, so we place our orders (Beth gets an omelet) and retire to a table to wait.

The food is good, and with our tummies full, we decide to figure out our plans from here on out. We want to do a boat tour tomorrow, but we’re not sure which company to choose. The first we come across has a couple of interesting prospects, so we get prices and say we’ll be back later. Our second stop tells us more about the places, but I like the feel of the first company better. Now that we have two sets of itineraries and no idea which to choose, we peruse our options. With company number one we can do a tour with dolphin sighting, snorkeling, and beach... or one with the Marine park, snorkeling, and beach. Company number two offers two similar tours. Yet when we talk to Company number one, they tell us that due to the water conditions at Punto Viejo, they will do the dolphins, snorkeling, and Marine Park in one tour. Perfect.

That settled, we ask our tour guide if there are any good beaches around. She tells us we can catch the bus by the park for two dollars to Bocas del Drago, a forty five minute ride up Isla Colón. That sounds wonderful. We visit the room briefly to change and pack a bag, and I make the conscious decision to not wear sunscreen. I know, bad Sarah. But I absorb sunscreen. It hardly takes any to keep me from getting any sun at all. So bring on the pain, if it brings on the tan.

According to the tour guide, the bus to Drago leaves every hour on the hour, so we cross the park a few minutes before 11 to wait. Just as we arrive, a bus to Drago is pulling up, but the driver is being a bit discriminatory in his pickings. He lets three people on the bus and waves the rest of us back. Apparently we have to wait for the next one (in other words, the tourist one). Then he takes his mostly empty bus and drives off.

So we wait... and wait... and wait. There is an older man that they did not let on the bus who is also waiting, so I don’t mind if he doesn’t. I have my book, which I pull out to pass the time. But there is a little girl next to us, who, after being denied a quarter by Beth and I, decides to spend her time sneaking up behind us and trying to look at my book. I show her – “¿Puedes leer? ¿Entiendes inglés?” – but she just shrugs her shoulders and stands way too close for comfort.

The next bus that comes is obviously meant for tourists, and Beth, I, our elderly friend, and a gaggle of middle aged men board for the beach. The men our nice; how cool to still be backpacking through countries with your best friends in your forties. The bus ride isn’t too long, and soon we’re pulling up too the itty bitty station of Bocas del Drago. I say station because, although it’s all houses, it feels suspiciously like we’re hanging out on private property. We walk through a yard and suddenly – BAM. There it is, the most beautiful sea I have ever seen. The water is crystal – an aqua green that is as tranquil as the area. The sun seems to beg for pictures, and I am quick to oblige. I think these are my favorite photos. Beth and start down the five foot wide stretch of beach, which at times simply disappears into the water. We wade around trees and keep walking until we come into a little bay area where a local family is swimming. Just past them we decide to lay out our towels and make camp. The water is too inviting to simply admire however, and it takes me only minutes to wade out into its crystal depths. What we can’t see from shore however is that there is a reef about 100 yards in, so the water never gets deeper than our shoulders.

The next few hours are spent in lazy appreciation of this perfect day. I lie out and read, swim when I get hot, and rejoice as I feel the sun cooking my skin. It is so very lovely. I wish I could say more, but if you look at my pictures and close your eyes, perhaps you can just imagine. :)

There is a four o’clock bus back to town that we want to take, so we gather up our stuff close to that time and walk back to the stop. Our middle aged co travelers tell us that we should have kept walking around the beach – they saw starfish the size of dinner plates. And I later learn that this is the key draw to Drago... whoops. I actually really wish we had seen them, but I have enjoyed this day nonetheless.

Back at the hospidaje, we shower and get ready to go to dinner. I can tell I got burnt, but it doesn’t hurt too much... yet. After my shower I put my pictures from Manuel Antonio on my comp and organize them. Then it’s off to dinner! Yesterday I saw this place called Le Pirate that I wanted to go to, so now we walk over. The goal was to watch the sunset on the patio, but as it is 7:30 by the time we get there, the sun has long since set. Even so, we enjoy a nice dinner of shrimp and lobster (though the lobster messes with Beth’s stomach) and piña coladas (which wasn’t very good actually). So, though it isn’t the best food we’ve had, we still enjoy ourselves thoroughly.

Suddenly we remember that we have to go back to the tour place to make the reservation for tomorrow (there weren’t enough people signed up earlier to choose it this morning). That takes just a few minutes, and we’re not ready to turn in. We’ve been good girls this entire trip. I haven’t gone out in San Jose, and I’ve rarely spent money on anything besides tours and food. So we think: let’s go out. Well, we’re not nightclub girls, and it’s still early, so we just walk to a little bar above a restaurant called Lemongrass. The bartender is one of those young guys who wants to show off, so you know, we have a good time. And then Beth and I just sit in their lounge and sip our drinks. I get another fruity concoction to start (it is mixed with Hawaiian fruit – que interesante) and then end with whiskey and sprite – I’m falling into a routine... is that bad? Except that this guy is like the bartender in San Jose... or I just don’t enunciate. Because he gives me whiskey on the rocks – straight up. I wait till it’s pretty diluted before I start sipping. I don’t think I’ll do that again.

After drinks (Beth has to try another long island iced tea – she says she’d like to try them everywhere), we decide to turn in. We’re not night owls, us girls. Instead we watch an episode of Ugly Betty on Beth’s computer and call it a night. After all, tomorrow is another day, and we’re in Panama. :)

*edit*: Yesterday, I wrote that the little cemetery we saw in town lost many of its graves due to erosion (see paragraph seven of Sunday’s entry). Beth found out today that actually the destruction was due to an earthquake that wrecked the area not too long ago. It just seems that no one bothered to clean up the holy mess. Kinda like the ruins in Cartago... only a shade more creepy.