Los Santos and Las Tablas

After three nights in Panama City Meredith and I parted ways with Bora and Vincezo and headed for Peninsula Azuero,  known for its copious amount of festivals.  We assumed rooms would be hard to come by in Las Tablas and booked two nights at the Hostal Voyager in Los Santos.  This small town is made up of a plaza surrounded by numerous small streets. As we walked into town Guadalupe, the owner of Hostal Voyager, called our name from the doorway.  Or at least as close to "Meredith" as you can get in Spanish.  We walked through the door and were surprised to find a living room full of computers and teenage boys playing video games.  Turns out Guadalupe's home serves as the local internet cafe, mini-movie theater, and hostel for travelers like ourselves.  Quite the operation she has going.  Nonetheless Lupe was incredibly accommodating, making us breakfast each morning, and letting us pick movies each evening.  Not too bad for $8 a night.

The following afternoon we left for Las Tablas to check out the festival.  When we arrived the town was still fairly quiet.  We explored the church, admired a colorful float, and watched as a few of the girls had their pictures taken in the traditional Panamanian dress or polleras.  To kill some time we made our way to a pool hall to grab a drink.  After the first round the bartender brought us two more beers. We didn’t think too much of it, however before we could finish she brought us another round.  And another.  And another.  Finally I noticed someone across the bar waving at us and realized he had been buying our drinks.  We politely told the bartender no more, paid our $1 tab, and left for the festival.  At this point pizza was highly necessary.  Slightly buzzed we walked along the street fair of blue tents selling random trinkets, making our way to the bull riding arena.   

After paying the $3 to enter the bull riding area we joined to mass of people watching the event.  I wanted to join the teenagers who were sitting on the fence, but decided against it since I was wearing a skirt.  Meredith was rooting for the bull to win.  Sadly it did not.  As we walked back to the festival we watched the street parade of young girls and boys dancing and playing music.  In the end we were tired and decided to head back to Los Santos.  

 

The sleepy towns Los Santos and Las Tablas provided a much needed change from Panama City, but we were anxious to move to the next location.  Unfortunately Meredith and I had not yet decided where this location would be. After a consultation of LP and input from Lupe we decided Santa Catalina sounded like a great choice.  The next morning we woke early, well rested after an early evening and screening of Titanic, and made the 6 hour and 4 bus journey to Santa Catalina. 

The Panama Canal: Round Three

According to the travel guide Lonely Planet (LP) your best chance of seeing a ship go through the Panama Canal is between 9 and 11am at the Miraflores Locks.  I had seen the engineering marvel last summer, but not in its full glory.  Even after our late night of karaoke and beverages I was determined to get up early to see a boat cross the canal.  In order to coheres the rest of the group out of bed I made a batch of banana pancakes before any wake up calls.  We managed to get everyone out of bed, fed, and ready to go by 10am.  

I was a little overzealous at making sure we got the correct cap fare, but even after a tiff with the cab driver we made it to the canal before 11am.  However this proved to be pointless.  We were immediately met with the news that there would be no ships until 2pm.  After contemplating if we wanted to kill more than three hours we decided we had nothing better to do with our day and could wait.  After a quick consultation of LP we learned there was a botanical garden/zoo only 10km down the road.  As we made our way down to the bus stop we met two sisters from the Dominican Republic who were staying at our hostel and invited them to join.

Although the bus stop was covered, it was hot and humid.  Nevertheless it was a great time.  In a weird backpacking phenomenon Americans made up the majority of our group.  Although Bora is originally from Cambodia and the sisters from the Dominican Republic, they all currently live in New York.  Thus Vincezo became an honorary member of Team America for the day.  After over an hour of waiting and consistently being honked at we were still stranded at the bus stop.  Many buses refused to stop and those that did said we needed a different bus.  Admitting defeat we made our way back to the air conditioned Miraflores for lunch.  Panamanian Public Transport System: 1, Americans: 0.

In the end it all worked out.  The ships started passing through the canal at 1pm and we managed to see two, long after the novelty had wore out.  It was somewhat anticlimactic but I was still excited I finally got to see the canal in action, even if it took three tries. 

Karaoke in Panama City

Meredith’s flight arrived at Tucuman International Airport two hours before mine.  Fortunately she was able to order a beer with her limited Spanish during the wait.  We decided to stay at La Casa de Carmen, the hostel I had stayed at with Jon and Nick last summer.  When we arrived it was surprisingly quiet with fewer people than last time.  Luckily we were able to get a room to ourselves and catch up on some much needed sleep.  The next morning we decided to relocate to Luna’s Castle, a popular hostel in Casco Viejo, in hopes of meeting some other travelers.

When we arrived Luna’s Castle was everything we were expecting.  Decorated with local art work and attached to a bar boasting $0.50 beers during happy hour, it’s clearly the backpacker hot spot of Panama City.  We spent the day walking around Casco Viejo, a barrio with an old colonial feel, cobblestone streets, plenty of street art, and a strong military presence.

Around 9pm we arrived at Relic Bar to fill our quota of $0.50 local beer.  In true traveling fashion we were immediately joined by an Ausie, Vincezo, another American, Baro, and a group of Israelis.  I’m always fascinated by Israeli culture, especially the mandatory military service for both men and women, and spent much of the evening speaking to Ethan about his home country.

Around midnight one of the hostel workers, Joy, came down and asked if we wanted to go to karaoke.  Meredith, Vincezo, Bora and I were definitely in (on a side note after Girl’s Trip I beginning to feel there’s a lot of karaoke in my life these days).  We finished our drinks, piled into taxis and made our way to Texas Lounge. As soon as we walked in it quickly became apparent that we were the only foreigners.  Joy on the other hand knew everyone in the bar.  The karaoke was set up in a small corner of the bar, complete with fog machine and spotlight.  It was a great atmosphere and mix of Spanish and English songs.  Our group joined in throughout the night adding favorites of You Spin My Head Right Round, Crazy Little Thing Called Love and I Want it That Way.  Vincezo is quite the performer and even made a dollar for his fierce dance moves.

Hours later when we had our fill of karaoke we relocated to a table outside.  Bora taught us Whiz, Bang, Bounce, a drinking game Meredith is not very good at.  We finished the evening sharing travel stories and piled into a cab to make it home before the sun rose.

Slumber Party at LAX

"A journey is never a simple thing. The hitches and the boredom, the missed connections and empty hours are the price for leaving one’s real life and entertaining an unreal one."

­­­­­­The South Bound adventure began with the end of a girl’s trip on Catalina Island.  However Meredith and my journey through Central and South America will undoubtedly be drastically different than the five days spent with nine girls in a rental house on Catalina Island.  Instead our journey began with 28 hours of airports and flights.  

Sunday afternoon we made our way to LAX so the majority of the girls could catch their 6pm flights home.  Meredith and I opted to catch a ride then instead of having to find a place to sleep and ride early the following morning even though our flights did leave until 8am Monday.  We said our goodbyes to Britt, Shir, Jill and Morgane at Terminal 1 then proceeded to the information desk.  The men working there seemed somewhat surprised by our plan, but recommended the Bradley International Terminal.  Morgane had also told us about the website The Guide to Sleeping in Airports, which had nothing but horrible reviews of LAX.  We spent the next few hours chasing the sun and reading, making our way inside as the sun went down.  After a quick meal we found a carpeted corner that was somewhat sheltered from the common area to set up camp.

Overall the night would have been bearable had it not been absolutely freezing.  Meredith and I both woke up regularly to pile on more clothes.  The announcements for the veterans lounge downstairs with complementary showers and sleeping areas was a constant reminder of the luxuries we lacked.  At 5am we packed up to make our way to our respective terminals.  Off to our first stop: Panama City.

South Bound

Dear Friends, Family and Fellow Travelers:

Two years ago the Great Gypsy Gourney began in Southeast Asia with my friends Cody and Grace as we made our way through Thailand, Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia.  The legacy of the Gypsy Gourney continued with a study abroad in Argentina, followed by nine weeks backpacking from Panama City to Cancun, Mexico.  Now I'm back at it again.  This time south bound from Panama City headed towards Colombia and Ecuador.  My college roommate Meredith will be with me for five weeks before we part ways in Bogota and I continue to Ecuador.  Other than flights home there is no real itinerary.  Just exploring, being lost, and living the beautiful life.