Sybaritism

Sybaritism is a love of luxury and delight. This is the word that best sums up my first week in Granada. The week can be divided into sections by pleasures, infiltrated with snapshots of daily life in the city.

Exploring the City

There is a rich colonial heritage, seen in the architecture and layout. Granada is commonly nicknamed the "Gran Sultana del Gran Lago" - the Great Sultan of the Great Lake.

Guadalupe, the most desired place to be wedd in Granada

Calle Calzado, the hub of touristy Granada

Main Cathedral

Oasis Hostel, my home during stay in Granada (blue building)

Irina gets to know the city centre

Favourite building near our hostal

Calle Atravesada, where all the Disney takes place

Central Market with Mombacho volcano behind

The streets of Granada are a chaotic hive of activity. People rise at 4/5am (sensible given the heat from 8am onwards). There are skinny, overworked and sickly horses everywhere, and an equal number of people and dogs in a similar state. There are children and elderly sleeping rough. The dogs are uneducated and many snap or snarl. The men are equally uneducated and many appear to have no respect for women, especially not us of the paler, taller variety. Their comments and actions put me into a state of rage most days - I find these Nica men to be the most intolerable I have come across in the continent of Latin America. From children to wrinkled specimens (minus some more polite exceptions), they shout, grab, leer and sleaze all over us. When Irina and I later come into possession of bikes, they throw eggs and bottles at us in an attempt to get us off our bikes (God only knows what their purpose would be - a girl in our dorm room is attacked one morning at 8am while jogging along the lakefront). It is the men of Granada and the cruelty to humans and animals alike that make me want to leave this city as soon as possible...and if it was not for this sailing course I would have left already! People are extremely poor (the average wage being less that 4 dollars per day), and I entirely sympathise with their misfortunes and will support any cause that aims to pull these people our of poverty. However, cruelty and bad manners are things that I cannot tolerate. On our bikes, dogs snap at our heels and we learn that the only way to prevent getting bitten (and the last thing one wants is to get bitten by one of these diseased dogs) is to pick up a large rock and pretend to throw it at the dog in "the only language they understand".

Health

We find Pure, a natural health and fitness centre who offer a variety of classes including yoga and pilates. Getting good value for money, we attend a minimum of one class per day! The staff are lovely and our yoga teacher is fantastic. I particularly like the morning that she asked us to move our body as if we were a spoon scooping out the dregs of the peanut butter jar. I'll let you use your imagination!

Pure Health Centre

There is an African Desert Tortoise living at the centre, named Snoopy (he knows his name!). In the morning at dawn, the ducks in the garden shout good-morning to us while we practice our Downward Dog! At the end of the week I indulge in two hours of absolute indulgence consisting of reflexology, acupuncture and a full body massage. At about a quarter of the price I might pay at home I cannot resist. I feel I am walking on air for the remainder of the day.

Dancing Salsa

On a tiled terrace overlooking the central plaza and cathedral, we have a private salsa in the evenings. We are slowly getting better and now know the basics! Adam has managed to injure Irina by stamping on her toes, kicking her shin and yanking her arm out of socket. Given that Irina is accident-prone and Adam is accident-provoking, the result is not too unexpected. In Cafe Nuit there is a live band every night, here we practice our new steps along side locals and gringos alike. I bump into a boy from Sligo, the only other Irish backpacker I have met in Central America. He gives me a big friendly Irish hug!

Irina & our fantastic teacher show us the moves

Practising El Tercer Paso!

What a location to learn salsa!

My dance partner for the evening & myself cannot stop laughing (mainly about how long my arms are compared to his!)

Irina + Adam = Accident

Aah that´s how it goes....

Happy ladies after a night of dancing at Cafe Nuit
Irina taking part in salsa lesson at the beautiful Hotel Con Corazon
Elaine needs to find a taller dance partner.....(no chance in Nicaragua)
Our fan club, Hotel Con Corazon

Watersports

Laguna de Apoyo is 48-square kilometer laguna set in the crater of the Apoyo volcano (situated between Granada and Masaya) and boasts the cleanest water in Nicaragua. The water is incredibly clean and turquoise in colour. We set off on a daytrip to a resort called the Crater's Edge where there are hammocks & chairs dotted around a terrace looking over the beautiful laguna. We have a peaceful day of swimming, reading and kayaking. Something happens each time Irina and I get into a canoe or a kayak, we just cannot stop giggling!

Kayaking on Laguna de Apoyo

Snoozing beside the Laguna

After the others leave, Irina and I decide spend Sunday morning sailing around Las Isletas at the Velago Nicaragua. Ferdinand Hoffer is our host and the owner of the sailing school. We meet in the morning at eight am and set out on Elizabeth, a Gruben jolly boat (17 ft). Ferdinand, an Austrian chap who has been wandering back and forth to Nicaragua for the past 10 years. following his dream of creating the first sailing school in Central America.

Las Isletas is an archipelago of 365 volcanic islands situated 3 kilometers from the centre of Granada on the Cocibolga lake (Lago Nicaragua). We are amazed by how many of the islands are inhabited (most of which are owned by rich Nicaraguans or foreigners who visit a few days per year). We have a lovely morning, learning a little about tacking, jibing and putting up the head sail. Ferdinand is good company, and is full of information about the local history and culture. After some lunch in town, we return to the centre and head off on a three-hour kayaking trip around the islands with Oscar (who was born and reared on one of the islands). We kayak through the narrow canals that divide islands and admire a fortification of XIX century, which is on San Pablo Island, and briefly stop at an island hosting a monkey-colony. At one point we consider turning back when the wind picks up and the torrential rain begins, but we push onwards and the bad weather passes quickly. We both decide that this has been one of our favourite days in Granada (and having read the above paragraphs you can see the level of enjoyment has been high). At the end of the day we chat further and discuss the possibility of extending our stay to do some more sailing and perhaps take part in a course....?

Elizabeth

The walkway

Ferdinand

Looking back over Granada

San Pablo island

Oscar, so sweet and shy!

Defense fort on San Pablo

Black clouds begin to appear, the winds pick up & the rain appears

Monkey on Monkey Island

Sit-on-top canoe

Guard-dog on one of the islands

Surely not.....

Oscar sports a t-shirt that says "Mr.Miniblind"

Does this gap in the clouds lead to heaven?

Sunset

Shopping

Irina and I take a local bus to the neighbouring city of Masaya. We arrive a peak time for the local market. The stench of rotting and shit is wretch-provoking. It certainly is an experience to walk through. Rubbish and mud stick to our flip-flops. People with warts all over their body walk by. Men with huge wooden carts laden with goods strain to pass. Everywhere there are filthy, maimed or skinless dogs and boney children. We continue on to the the Old Market which is calmer, cleaner and geared towards tourists. I buy a hammock for the garden I imagine having in the future. On the return to Granada, we pass a horse with a broken leg limping across the main highway. I feel sick at the sight.

It is sooooo hot!

Local "school buses"

Note how much taller I am than the average Nica!

Guess how many hammocks we purchased?!

Eating

The Garden Cafe is my favourite place to have lunch. On the menu there is a love story about an American and a Nicaraguan who fell in love and dreamt about opening a coffee shop inside a restored Colonial building, with a beautiful garden and terrace. This cafe is their reality and the garden inspires me to dream about having my own beautiful garden one day.

The Garden Cafe

El Tercer Ojo (the third eye) is a wonderful place to have dinner. They serve a white fish called dorado with a beautiful garlic and white wine sauce.

El Tercer Ojo (well my blog would not be my blog without eating pictures!)

"El Tercer Ojo" - The third eye

The typical breakfast in Costa Rica and Guatemala is Gallo Pinto; rice, beans, eggs and plantain. It is enormous and will fill you up until dinner time!

Gallo Pinto or "Plato Tipico"

There are fantastic smoothies all over the city for little more than a dollar. We visit a place called Nectar and order a goat´s cheese salad what we are given is a plate of cucumber and green peppers with one teeny-weeny (penny-sized) lump of cheese. Naturally we complain and the waitress shrugs her shoulders, that is how we serve it. Adam finds a hair in his curry. After much discussion with the manager, we manage to get a discount. I have had a number of instances with Nicas where I have not been happy with a service provided (mainly food related, but also when shopping and at the beauty salon). However, I have found complaining or sharing constructive crticism a fruitless exercise here resulting in verbal aggression, accusations or other kinds of emotional outbursts. So now I don´t bother, and my fingers are crossed for quality every time I pay for something.

Eskimo is the Nica brand of ice-cream and it is rather delicious. I cannot decide whether coffee-flavour is my favourite so I buy another the following day, just to be sure..

Caught in the act with an Eskimo ice-cream

It has been a very busy week, but hungry to learn how to sail, Irina and I decide to stay in Granada for three more days.

Ometepe, the place of two mountains

We climb out of the taxi at San Jorge and into a swarm of sandfly-type bugs. The swarm continues along the pier and aboard the small fishing boat.

Imagine thousands of insects, in a constant confetti, in your hair, crawling along your eyelids, glued to your clothing and blocking your vision of a few feet in front of you. This is what we experience for the next hour as we cross the Lago Nicaragua. The only relief is to stick one's head as far off the side of the boat as one's neck will allow. Our backpacks are heaving with hundreds and hundreds of the vile creatures.

I count down the minutes and seconds until we can scramble off the boat and big good riddance. We take our first few steps on the Island of Ometepe. Deep breaths. Concepción volcano greets us, standing handsome and tall.

Ometepe is a 276-square-kilometer island on the Lake of Nicaragua (the second largest lake in Latin America). It is considered the largest island in the world found within a freshwater lake. Population circa 42,000. The island is shaped like an irregular figure of eight, with both circles each holding a volcano: Concepción (1,610 masl) and its twin brother Maderas (1,395 masl).

Concepción

We hop in the back of a pick-up truck and bounce along the dirt tracks to our destination, Little Morgan's. Never a dull moment in Nicaragua, we watch a spot of ridiculous road-rage between our driver and another mini-van driver. Dangerously speeding along bumpy roads trying to catch each other and cut-each other off (Greased Lightning style) ending in a broken wing-mirror and the bumper knocked off. We all look at each other. What was that about?

Riding along in our automobile

Road

Driver´s helper with bumper

Little Morgan´s

The driveway (energy zapping & sweat-inducing)

Morgan is the owner, little Morgan is his son. This place has been open for about 6 months. We (Irina, Helene and myself) rent our own private wooden cabina, clad with Sky TV (never watched!), terrace with hammock and rocking chairs. Nicaragua is full of rocking chairs. We swim in the lake, and again at sunset, watching in awe at the orange, red and pink hues over the volcano peak. Nice people are staying here. Tito is the kitten.

Our private terrace

Casita

Perfect swimming

Caught in pensive-mode

Irina & Helene relaxing after a swim

Concepción, the active volcano

Our cabina is not sealed and this is Bug World. Our mosquito nets have holes. Along with the beetles, ants, flying monsters, toads and geckos, we sleep very little. Crunch, crunch on the way to the bathroom as many hard-backed insects are flattened. We guesstimate how many bugs we have inhaled during the night. We decide we may not stay as long as previously thought.

The following morning we hike up the Maderas volcano to get a view of Concepción. After a night of heavy rainfall, the path is quite soggy and we sink into the squish. Irina, who is accident prone when travelling, slides in the mud and thumps to the ground. The trees and bushes are rich and green, filled with birds, white-face monkeys and (roaring) howler monkeys. Upon our descent, we stop to watch the monkeys, who in return stop what they are doing and stare back at us. There are lots of horses and cows roaming, even a few bulls (but they have a tether from head to mouth presumably to stop them running to fast). The animals grazing here are a great deal healthier than on the rest of the island. We meet nobody on the path.

Making our way up to the Maderas volcano

With a cluck-cluck here

and an Oink-Oink here

Here a squawk, there a squawk, everywhere a squawk-squawk

Concepción volcano, with peace halo

Typical Central American cow, ears growing from cheekbones

The official bird of Ometepe is the blue-tailed magpie (urraca)

Petroglyphs are dotted around the island

It is uncomfortably humid, sweating buckets and guzzling litres of water we run back to Little Morgans - deperate to cool down in the lake. There is a circular cement pool which has been filled with about 4 inches of water and all the guests and firmly plonked themselves down with a glass of Flor de Caña (Nicaraguan rum) and fresca (Sprite-like). It is a fun afternoon, and the cherry on the cake is another 'Chico dinner'!

This has the makings of a pool-party (Morgan the Irish on left)

Irina getting ready for another sunset swim
Can you spot three heads in the water?
Helene

Alan, Ty, Tito & Irina

Diachachimba is Chico's favourite word. He has lived in Canada for twenty something years and this word is the closest thing to 'fuckin' eh' - a common Canadian expression of exclamation (apparently). Chico is effeminate, expressive, spontaneous and a truely wonderful chef. His food could easily entice me to extend my stay here (but bugs make me reconsider). Hehas been the resident chief for approximately 10 days, and since my arrival he has created amazing omeletes, salads, chicken with mango, steak with jalapenos and the best potato-salad I have ever tasted! He has a real joie de vivre, and seems to live his life on the end of a shoestring. When asked how long he plans to stay, he shrugs and with a beaming smile replies ' I got nowhere I need to be, I can go wherever I want, you know? Now I like it here'. A lesson we could all learn from Chico is how to enjoy the present now, rather than constantly thinking about what we are going to do next.

Chico

Chico feels that Helena does not carry enough names (just two is apparently not sufficient). He waves his magic wand and calls her Helene Maria del La Concepcion Martinez.

We visit El Zopilote an Italian-owned eco-friendly hostel, organic shop, pizzeria, garden and viewpoint. A pleasant half an hour, especially on top of the viewing tower where there is a gentle breeze.

Gecko

At night, the secret is to walk up a small hill and sit and watch in amazement at the thousands of fireflies that sprinkle their magic all over the island.

There is a girl with more tatoos than I have freckles or daydreams. Across her back, D I S T U R B E D is stamped. A local tatoo man comes to fill a vacant space on her left forearm. She gives him full permission to use his creativity to draw whatever he feels best symbolises and encapsulates Nicaragua to him. I tell her she is brave, I really think she is mad. I try to talk to her sometimes but find it difficult, all she wants to do is tell me about the fireflies. She tells me how they swoosh past her like ghosts, totally freaking her out. She tells me the fireflies used to be in California but they left and now they live here.

Bird of Prey

Old & new friends

Alan takes really bad pictures....

Hammocking

Tito, the cutest kitten on the island

After three nights, nine Chico meals and seven lakes-swims we leave on a 5am bus - the time that the heavens open and rush-hour time for locals.

Early morning departure from Ometepe on a Dutch cruise ship

The Tilanic is moored at San Jorge...

along with the Mozorola

Saint John of the Surf

Martha likes to gossip in her pink satin nightgown, exchanging stories about the neighbours or giving her friends the low-down about each of the people staying at her guesthouse. She is obsessed with cleaning, frequently re-cleaning in the footsteps of her hired-help. She mentions the weather in every conversation. It is nice to have her around, she has the qualities of a big-hearted aunt. We rent a room from her for five nights.

San Juan del Sur is a coastal town on the Pacific side of Nicaragua. The town has been gringofied, this is not a place to seek culture. It is not unpleasant, with bright-coloured buildings and a number of good cafes and restaurants.

Main street, San Juan del Sur

El Gato Negro - a place of hummus, books & world-weary owners

Saturday market, San Juan del Sur

The most important thing to mention about our stay here is that Irina and I discover our love of surfing! I have found previous surfing expeditions in the Atlantic ocean to be less than enthralling, but here in the Pacific ocean is another ballgame! Once in the water, we stay for up to 5 hours at a time - feeling so all-consumed with the waves that we forget hunger-rumbles and jellyfish stings! A Peruvian chap with atrocious English and straw-like blond hair gives us some coaching. Together we stay in the water (laughing and laughing) until the final moments of daylight. Back to town and Martha is always waiting to give us a warm welcome and beaming smile.

All pictures of me surfing have been stolen along with Helene's camera. I do have a picture of a wave.

Wave at Playa Remanso

When not surfing we spend time at the beach, reading and avoiding crabs/hawkers/men/ thieves.

Irina, Irina's guardian angel, Elaine & Helene
Local beach at San Juan del Sur (not for surfing)

Same beach as above

I practice yoga every day at the local health centre and read a book called Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.
In The Jungle Room we dance salsa. Marie dances with a gangster boy who says ´24 years I half´ when asked.

Watching an electrical storm on the seafront

Iguana, where the gangstas hang out

We watch some sunsets and incredible thunderstorms that last for hours. Then, we leave.

There are lots of frogs and toads

Pura Vida! Costa Rica

Do not travel with Tica bus! This is my revenge for 16 hours of torture. I have travelled for long enough in Latin America to know that long trousers, a warm cardigan and pashmina are essential to keep warm when the enevitable air-conditioning blasts. Tica bus take this bus-chilliness syndrome to another, painful level. On our overnight bus to Costa Rica, Helene and I spend the night rapping on the door asking the bus driver to please turn down or off the air-con (as we are turning blue). At first, he turns it down for 5 minutes or so, and then resumes with his mission to freeze us all. After banging on the door three or maybe four times, he no longer pays us any attention. Other passengers all agree yes it is freezing but not a single other person complains. At 3am, I am so cold that my body aches and I am close to tears, I try one last time to rationalise with the bus driver - telling him 'it's like the bloody Antarctic back here - why don't you come back and see for yourself.....(etc)?'. He laughs in my face. What a callous beast! Not even an inch of customer service or common decency.

If you must travel with this miserable company, wear thermals and pop a Valium for your nerves. Hmph.

The border crossing from Panama to Costa Rica has been the most unpleasant of the trip, in fact I cannot recall a border crossing worse in my travelling history. The whole escapade takes two and a half hours, and is a most illogical affair. I am so weary from a sleepless night on the ice-box that I fear I may strangle one of these incompetent border police and shout about my grievances. Instead I glare and sigh as I watch a stiletto-heeled, gum-chewing women with (Lycra?) jeans feel her way through every single item of my rucksack and the luggage belonging to two coach-loads of fellow nomads. The bus driver who has obviously been through this process many times is not capable of explaining to us what is going on, and in fact confuses matters further resulting in some suitcases being checked by hand twice!

We arrive to San Jose at 3pm. We have now been travelling for 24 hours but feeling fairly happy to be in new surroundings (now that our body temperature has returned to normal). We have a four hour wait until our next bus departs. We find a Chinese restaurant and have the best Asian food of the trip so far - however, it is far from cheap. San Jose is another grimy, unsafe city but at least three locals have dashed to our assistance. Stepping over trails of fresh human excrement, we make our way back to the bus station.

The bus to Sanmara (on the Pacific coast) is a pleasant temperature and we sleep until the bus driver shakes us frantically at our destination (imagine this in London?!), I wake confused and disoriented after 30 hours on the road. A guy called Max is at the bus station with a big comfortable SUV, non-stop chitter-chatter and the promise of cheap accommodation. Max has clearly kissed the Blarney stone and in my tired (grumpy) state I ask him to 'tranquilo', take it easy - my head is aching and his over-the-top sales approach is draining my already depleted resources. It's midnight, and we haven't got any other ideas so we agree and he sets us up with our own apartment on the beachfront for $15 per person.

The following morning we take a proper look around and are delighted to find a deserted beach with clear, clean sea water.

The Ticos confidently promise 'sun & beach'

Leafy entrance to our cutest apartment

Our driveway

The sun is incredibly strong here, emergency hydration needed!

Sanmara beach - where are all the holidaymakers?

Me

There are not so many birds here to wake us (compared with the 400+ in El Valle) and we sleep well. We spend time at the beach, sample local fish and read. It has the feel of an semi-abandoned tourist town. There are a few American (middle-aged) tourists around, but because it is the beginning of rainy season it is judged to be low season. The Internet cafe is filled with 20-something year old Costa Rican men, speaking English to their latest American (?) sweetheart with Skype and webcams. All the locals speak English, even when spoken to Spanish - a fact which we find to be consistent throughout Costa Rica - a fact I find boring and frustrating in equal measures. We enjoy having our own apartment, despite sharing with a family of cockroaches and a colony of ants.

After three (rain-free) nights, we set off to another coastal town further south, the hippy town of Montezuma. The bus is ridiculously expensive ($45) but unless we take FIVE different public buses, we have little choice. The roads in Costa Rica are worse than Bolivia.

Montezuma is a place I like instantly. It has a hippy, laid-back feel. We stay at the Greek-owned Los Mangos hotel alongside the monkeys, lizards & other creatures that wander among the trees. We have 'splashed out' on this hotel because there is a yoga centre on-site. Our daily routine consists of waking at 7am, having breakfast beside the sea, 1-2 hours of yoga, swimming in the pool, wandering the lovely shops in town, chatting at the organic cafe and enjoying dinner at a local restaurant that shows movies in the evening. The yoga is fantastic with excellent teachers - a good mix of intense exercise, stretching and spiritual enlightenment. We continue with our 'health camp' - no alcohol, no meat, no naughty food, lots of exercise - and feel fantastic!

Yoga Centre, with ocean views & soundtrack

Los Mangos

Cafe Organico, Montezuma

Montezuma beach

Breakfast

Life in Montezuma is idyllic, a wonderful place to recharge and replenish. We chose not to take part in the night-time activities, resting instead. Both our minds are working on overload, lots of creative ideas buzzing around. Helene has designed and decorated the apartment she soon hopes to buy. I have imagined what I will do upon my return to the UK and Ireland this summer, and also have begun to consider ideas for the next couple of years. We both keep talking about the things we would like to change (and keep) in our lives back home.

There is one less-than-idyllic thing about this place - now it is the beginning of the rainy season it is plagued with crabs. I have my Father (RIP) to thank for my reflexive fear of these creatures. I grew up believing his toes had been chewed by crabs - in actual fact they were chopped off in an accident with a lawnmower blade and some wet grass which in hindsight is probably a more horrendous story. Anway. my fear remains and here in Montezuma these orange and purple creatures are trying desperately hard to move from the local hills to the sea before the rains. Hundreds are being squashed on the road by cars, bicycles and underfoot. I have never seen anything like it. Walking back to the hotel after dark, listening to the crunching underfoot or the rustling in the grass, sends shivers up my spine. Why do they scuttle sideways in such a crab-like fashion? Eeugh.

My foe

We have committed to meeting friends in the north of the country, so despite our longing to stay a few more days we set off on a long and complicated journey to Monteverde.

Ferry to Puntarenas

Five buses and one boat later, we wander down the driveway to our hostel to find our friends sipping on sangria. A happy reunion, we spend a couple of hours exchanging stories and the others laugh at our 'peace and love vibe'! Tonight we visit a tastefully decorated restaurant for cheese and wine. It has been nice to detox for the last few weeks and now I happily savour this glass of red wine!

Red wine!

Monteverde, town located beside a Cloud Forest

Monteverde is famous for the cloud forest located there. I have now learned that a cloud forest, also called a fog forest, is a generally tropical or subtropical evergreen moist forest characterised by a high incidence of low-level cloud cover, usually at the canopy level. Our plan is to discover the forest at the canopy level by taking a 'canopy tour' and at ground level with some hiking in one of the national parks.

Somewhat reminiscent of Ireland?

Collibri (type of hummingbird)

A canopy tour (I have recently learned) consists of a series of ziplines, tarzan swings and rappeling (down a vertical rope) at canopy level through the cloud forest. With the company we chose, Extremo, there are 14 platforms reaching 2550 feet long and 450 feet in height.

I am a little nervous beforehand but if Irina can do with her fear of heights then I can do it! Plus I cannot stand the idea of Adam gloating about his adrenaline rushes (my competitive streak appears)! It is a very fun day. The Tarzan Swing includes a free fall from a high platform (which is really scary!) and then a big swing which is great - watching others faces during the free-fall is priceless!! I scream all kinds of obcenities as my body plunges downwards. Afterwards I can't stop giggling!

In the afternoon, Helene and I learn all about bats at the Bat Santuary. Bats are fascinating!

Marie, myself & Adam geared up & ready to zip some lines

Adam during Tarzan Swing

Reaching speeds of 45miles

Irina is conquering her fears!

Later, we hire a guide and take a night walk through the 'Ecologica Finca' and see three tarantulas, walking sticks, and lots of others creepy crawlies.

Teeny-weeny froggie!

Orange-kneed tarantula

A web of deceit

Ants, ants & more ants

The following day is Sunday and the perfect time to hike at Santa Elena national park. The trees, plants and birdlife are incredible. In the afternoon we visit the local frond pond to learn more about these frogs we keep bumping into.

Renuions!

Shelter from the morning sun

Colibri sipping on sweet-water at park entrance

These boots were made for walking...

Helene the hiker

Irina, who has recently arrived from London

Making shapes from leaves & clouds

The backside of a pizote!

PDI/"underwater" buddies united once more!

Tree hug

Today is "Norway Day" so we wear Norwegian ribbons while hiking and drink a souvenir-sized bottle of Aquacate each after lunch!

Pure poison!

Marie, Aguacate & Norwegian chocolate

Costa Rica is a great place to see natural wildlife and there has been a huge effort over the past few years to conserve the rainforest and it's inhabitants. Despite thinking it is a beautiful place, I do have a series of complaints (I share these with my Mum and she tells me I've clearly been travelling too long - finding faults with paradise!). Perhaps. Costa Rica is undeniably filled with beautiful beaches, rainforests and incredible biodiversity (unmatched anywhere in the world), however I feel like in an attempt to cater for tourists the country has lost part of it's charm. The people are generally ok, some are sweet, other more pompous. The men are as smooth as Berlusconi, confidently strutting towards us, cracking a corny one-liner and apparently expecting us to fall at their feet or perhaps more accurately into their bed! The public transport system, buses and roads are horrendous - why is the governement not investing here? Prices are frustratingly high, catering only for the average American holidaymaker on their 2-week annual vacation budget (rather different to us long-term backpackers living on a shoe-string!). And why, oh why, when someone makes the effort to speak in your native tongue would you reply in English? Ok, no more ranting.

Visit to the frog pond

The most common frog in Costa Rica, with bulging red eyes

On Monday we leave on a 4am (jampacked) bus for Nicaragua. We are told that it is Mother's day there "soon" (actually in 2 weeks time) so all buses are booked out (if anyone can explain this, please email). Many Nicaraguans (Nicas) are employed by Costa Ricans (Ticos) to do 'dirty work' (such as working on the coffee plantations). We prepare ourselves for an anticipated nightmare journey involving another 5 (magic number?) buses....to our intended destination of San Juan del Sur where our mission is to surf and practice yoga everyday. Adam and Marie have headed across to Tamarindo, Costa Rica for a few days and will join later.

Resting place between Costa Rica & Nicaragua

El Valle de Anton, Panama

By chance, Helene and I come across an advertisement for Swami Yoga Camping in El Valle de Anton, three hours north of Panama City. El Valle, as it is known, is set in the crater of an extinct volcano. At the time there is no website so we are rather curious about what we might find. I speak to Swami, the creator of the camp, and get directions to the centre. We are both delighted to get out of the city and are keen to begin our 'health camp'. Unfortunately, Marie's grandfather has passed away so she is flying back to Norway for the funeral (we will reunite in Costa Rica next week). Adam has met up with a friend and is heading north to Bocas, a seaside party place - no, gracias!  

We arrive at El Valle at 8pm, and are greeted by Swami (a Rastafarian dressed in all white) at the local shop. He leads the way through the darkness to the main house so it is hard to see the camping area but it all seems legitimate. There are about 10 other campers this evening, including a group of French travellers who have sailed across the Atlantic to Panama. This evening they make a delicious meal of lentils, vegetables and rice. Later we read and retire to our tent, sleeping soundly and waking up to an incredible chorus of singing birds. There are over 400 different species of birds in El Valle, and I would guess an equal number of insects. I have never seen so many insects of all shapes and sizes (including a disgusting giant black, flying-beetle that gets stuck in our hair, eeeew!).

Swami Yoga Camping

Sitting on the terrace (Helene & Sunita)

Alex is busy making jewelery

With the morning light we can see that the camp is set in a beautiful valley - surrounded by mountains, exotic flowers and luscious jungle. 

El Valle by daylight

Entrance to Swami Yoga Camping (known as 'The Camping')

The shady part of the garden, perfect for reading in the hammock!

Main house 

The walls are filled with inspirational figures and quotes

We spend the morning reading in hammocks, enjoying the peace, sunshine and quiet tremendously.

My fellow Capricorn friend doing some very early morning reading

In the afternoon, we take a stroll into town, pick up some locally-grown vegetables and eat some delicious shrimp for lunch. 

Main street, El Valle

We return to the camp and make a large pot of soup (made with a rather generous hand of ginger!) which is enjoyed by all. A new guest has arrived - it's Canada, whom we just cannot rid of....actually it is really nice to have a friendly and familiar face around!

The very lovely Canada

The camp is strictly vegan - no animal products or coffee are permitted. There is a good atmosphere, and most people cook a large pot of food and share it. 

After dinner I spend a couple of hours talking to Swami, an interesting and inspirational person. He is a mix of Moroccan, Spanish, Panamanian and Chilean and was educated in Mississippi. He has owned a vegetarian restaurant on Florida beach, lived in New York, spend 8 years in India training to be a monk, has given talks and conferences around the world on various matters of spirituality, has two children in Panama and now has created this relaxing retreat in El Valle. He practices yoga, meditation, massage, Reiki and reflexology. He tells me I have good energy and that I am independent, I do not need to draw greatly upon others (of course I like to hear this!). We talk a little about astrology and he tells me that as a Capricorn I set extremely high goals and work my way steadily towards achieving these goals. We talk a lot and he gives me a wonderful massage (perhaps the best massage of my life?!).

Swami's Cabin - fully equipped with Wi-Fi, Indian spices & a spiritual library!

Next day, Helene and I rise early and have a delicious fruit breakfast. Alex, Helene and I set off on a morning hike to the top of a nearby mountain, known as 'The Sleeping Indian' due to the shape (a women lying on her back ) and also apparently because a local Indian women fell in love with a Spanish invader who promised to meet her on the top of the mountain, she waited and waited and he never came......

Alex leads the way..pointing out various trees & animals

Rasta flag - Alex teaches us about the movement on route up the mountain!

"Ancient' art (??)

Path to the summit

This place is beautiful

El Valle, viewed from above

Melting & enjoying the view!

Path along the top of  the edge of the extinct volcano

Helene & Alex having a well earned rest 

It is a longer hike than we expect and in the heat we are close to collapsing! On route a giant frog hops out in front of me (no joke the size of football!) - I get such a fright that I forget to take a photo. I had no idea that frogs could be so huge. Alex, a Panamanian, teaches us a little about various trees, plants and animals. Two of the most dangerous species of frog are living here in the jungle - however it is very unusal to spot them in the wild as they are so tiny (the poison rests on their skin). The view from the top is wonderful and we get a clear view of volcano crater. The weather is fantastic again (considering it is now rainy season we are very lucky!). On the way down we swim in a waterfall and feel our skin sizzle as we cool down!

Cooling down at the waterfall

Afterwards we walk into town, buy more vegetables and find a hidden forest.....

The "hidden" forest!

This town is full of pretty flowers & hedges

Giant leaf-cutting ants

Following the very, very long ant trail!

Mangos!

El Valle is the wealthy Panamanian's weekend retreat and the houses are magnificent. A million miles away from the slums of Panama City. The air is so clean and fresh here, I feel I need to fill my lungs to full capacity in every breath to ensure I make full use of it's purity! 

This afternoon we chat to fellow campers and continue with our books which we are enjoying so greatly. I am reading Paulo Coehlo, 'Veronika decides to Die', a good book for a retreat such as this! We are eating only vegetables and fruit, drinking only water and exercising every day. I feel my mind becoming clearer, and I am gaining more clarity about what I want to do with my life! It is nice to have so much time and space to think. There is a power-cut in El Valle this evening, so we make an onion and leek soup in the darkness on a gas stove and the sit around the fire (hippy TV!) in the garden. There is a new guy at the camp, a Panamanian who is living in Switzerland, we nickname him 'Uncle Bob' as he plays reggae music loudly every night, getting drunk and stoned. Helene and I both take an instant dislike to him, intuitively feeling that he has a bad 'vibe' (later we discover that he is aggressive and has fathered no less than seven children to different women). Later, myself and Helene meditate with Swami for three hours (from midnight until 3am!). He gives a special mantra which will help us to channel our energy into helping others in the future. 

The following morning, Swami, Canada, Helene and myself hike to the top of Las Nubes, the highest point in the valley where (on a clear day) it is possible to see both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. Another steep hike in the intense humidity. My new Panama hat shades me from the sun! On the way to the top, Helene and myself spot a white eagle - the national bird of Panama which is currently in extinction. Swami tells us we are very lucky and that this is a good sign for our lives. At the top we have a nap in the sunshine. 

Beautiful white eagle

Looking out towards the Atlantic on one side, the Pacific on the other

Helene, Swami & Canada relaxing at the top of the mountain

It is so green!

Look at the length of those dreads!

Banana trees

Walking back to town

We walk back to the town, have a typical Panamanian lunch - lentils, plantain and rice. When we feel sufficiently nourished we wander along to the hot springs. First we plaster a mud mask on our faces, let it dry and rinse. Then we hop into the thermal, mineral bath for 45 minutes (a great deal warmer than the one we tried in Chile!). 

Helene with mud mask

Swami looking....spiritual?!

Swami, Canada & me covered in mud!

Lots more people have arrived at the Camping now - more than 20 people. Inlcuding some Argentines who are driving from Ushuaia to Alaska! Swami has promised to teach Helene, Canada and myself one of his favourite Indian recipes. So, we four are a cooking team, and over the next two hours we create a meal for everyone - kofta, daal & rice.

Preparing Kofta (using Plantain)

 It's all going really well....until I unscrew the food-blender at the wrong end and our freshly made tomato sauce spills EVERYWHERE and I mean everywhere - from ceiling to floor, and in every crevice of the white kitchen tiles. Aaarggh! Luckily the meal does not suffer (it is so good to cook and eat with some many spices!), and everyone grins in satisfaction with their full tummies!

There are a number of people (Indian, French) who has spent time in Ireland, even visiting my home town of Sligo! The Indian girl, Sunita, has worked on a WOOF (World wide opportunities on organic farms) farm in County Clare for two months. Helene and I notice that Swami does not talk very much to other guests, and we hear others asking him to meditate with them (to which he replies 'later, later'). However, in reality he invites only the two of us for meditation, saying that we have positive energy and do not drain him. Although we feel uncomfortable with this attention, we genuinely enjoy his company and listening to his advice. We meditate once more, and get a good night's sleep.

Next morning we are due to visit an organic farm and attend a class in organic farming but unfortunately Swami has got held up doing admin with his daughter in a nearby city so I go into town, do some laundry, spend an hour in the local library and then meet Helene for lunch. we spend the next hour talking about our future travel plans and decide that we are now ready to leave El Valle. We decide it is better to leave on a nightbus so that we arrive in San Jose, Costa Rica in the morning and can catch a bus to the coast. We ask about bus times and the last bus leaves in one hour! Quick dash back to the camping, pack our bags, say our goodbyes to fellow campers and the wonderful place that is El Valle. And we are gone, as quickly and spontaeously as we arrived.

We are hoping to catch a bus to the Pan-American highway, and from there flag down a Tica bus to San Jose, Costa Rica. Bad news, the bus drivers tells us that this will not be possible - we have to drive south to Panama City and then get a bus from there. A little dissapointed but what is 2 more hours extra when one is geared up for travelling for the next two days?! Just outside of Panama City a terrible incident occurs - one of those terrible situations that will stand out in my memory forever. A group of five guys who have been travelling on the bus for half an hour want to get off the bus beside one of the slum-areas and are refusing to pay the full amount owed. The bus conductor, a sweet young fellow, no more that 20 years old, is blocking their way off the bus and sternly telling them they need to pay. They barge past the conductor, one by one, pushing and shoving, until he is off the bus. The shouting and abuse begins - verbal and physical. The yobs begin to pick up rocks and aim for the conductors head, then drag him to the front of the bus where I cannot see what exactly happens. The faces of these guys I will never forget - angry, wide eyed, nose curled like snarling pittbulls The bus driver does nothing until one woman behind us begins shouting frantically 'Call the police, call the police!'. A tiny little child stands beside me watching the fracca. Eventually the bus driver gets to his feet and hovers around the door with phone in hand. The gang begin to run off and the conductor stumbles back on the bus, he has obviously been hit in the face. He is shaking violently and he desperately holds back the tears. It is such a terrible sight. I reach out to him, asking if there is anything I can do. Helene and I are really upset, it is the most awful feeling to watch something to terrible only a metre away and be so helpless. 

We drive the last few miles to the bus station. The city seems dirtier and more shabby that I remember; the slums more desperate. The conductor approaches me at the station and thanks me for my concern, giving me directions on how to get our next bus. The poor fellow, what a terrible job - he must get these kind of thugs on the bus all the times. We wish him luck and wander around the shopping centre to pass the next four hours until our bus departs, thankful for how lucky we are. 

Chinese for dinner, for the first time in a very long time!

A Panana hat & a stroll by the Canal

Our journey in an old American school bus (painted with psychedelic) takes us to Colón, the most terrible place I have ever visited. Dangerous, dirty, busy and displaying scenes of abject poverty on every street. People stare through the windows of the bus with hollow, angry faces. 

All other passengers sensibly disembark before Colon

We walk no more than 20 metres in the city, from one bus to the next and yet feel entirely unsafe. There is 40% unemployment here, and a high percentage of crack addicts who have no qualms about attacking for money. We have heard so many bad stories, including 9am attacks on female travelers two days previously - leaving her with a black eye and zero possessions.

Colón

 

Safely aboard another bus, Marie, Helene, Adam, Pierre, Gregory and I are relieved to leave. I have met many wonderful people doing interesting things on my travels - Pierre and Greg come high on this list. Read about their mission to understand and reduce poverty on their website http://www.latitude-responsable.com or join their Facebook group 'Latitude Responsable - Tour du monde de Pilou, Greg et Ludo'.

We arrive to Panama City and stay at a great hostel called Luna's Castle situated in Casco Viejo. Given that it is voting time, most restaurants and all bars/clubs are closed (it is illegal to sell alcohol). We are in the perfect hostel for relaxing- there is the best book exchange I have seen in Latin America, a movie theatre, pancakes and bananas for breakfast and lots of balconies and armchairs for lounging. We have met up fellow boat-trip survivors - it is nice to know so many people in one place! 

Dinner at Luna's Castle with the Auzzie Blondes

I am now well and truly dosed with a bad cold and feel like doing nothing more than lying on my bed with a packet of vitamin C and my new book, The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga (I am so excited and lucky to get my hands on this!). Ir is hard to buy English books anywhere in Latin America, and if you are lucky enough to find a bookshop selling English books you will pay a minimum of $30 for any old junk novel. That is why the best hostels have created book exchanges where you can trade your valuable English book. A nice idea, but it has amazed me how many terrible books are being ready by backpackers (admittedly I am a book-snob) hence when I find a good one I get very excited! 

Scott and his silly friend getting ready for a trip to the canal

The following afternoon I have a little more energy and join Helene, Marie and Scott in a trip to the Panama Canal. The weather is miserable - with heavy and constant rain. The taxi driver winks at me telling me that it won't stop for 6 months. The Panama Canal - one of the world's greatest engineering feats.

Miraflores Locks, Panama Canal

Big ship passing through Panama Canal

Moi et Marie

The canal stretches 80km from Panama City on the Pacific side to Colon on the Atlantic side, cutting through the Continental Divide. The easiest and best way to visit the Canal is at the Miraflores visitor centre, located just outside of Panama City. Over 14,000 vessels pass through the canal every year, paying a thousands of dollars depending on the weight of the ship and amount of cargo being carried. There is also a short film about the history of the canal and a museum. The US relinquished power of the canal on the 31st December 1999, and despite early doubts the Panamanians have successful reduced the time taken by each vessel to pass through the canal. There is currently an expansion program in place which will speed up the process further and enable larger, heavier vessels to pass. Later I learn that the indigenous people feel that the Canal disrupts the flow of energy from Central America through to South America and therefore, have an annual ceremony to re-balance and unleash energy blockages.

The restaurant at Miraflores is fabulous - for $25 dollars there is an all-you-can-eat buffet plus drinks and coffee. There is a large queue of boats waiting to pass through the locks, stretching as far as we can see and over lunch we watch two gigantic ships pass through the locks. Upstairs in the museum there is also a section about wildlife and fish around the canal. The name Panama literally means "Abundance" - referring to the amount of butterflies, insects, birds and wildlife in the country. 

I find the canal interesting - it is something I remember reading about in primary school. However, I hope that the Panamanian government invest the money generated by the canal wisely - there is so much potential here for economic growth here. 

Little else happens during our stay in Panama City, partly by choice but mainly due to the fact that everything is closed. We do however go shopping.... This is the place to buy electronics - it is a great deal cheaper than home. We buy Panama hats, which are 'super cool' (as they say here) and supposedly travel well (a lie, I discover later). The shops are great, equally as good as in Colombia. 

My beloved Panama hat, prior to squashing

Panama City is nothing like I imagined. The 'Miami of the south' is a filthy place, full of slums, ghettos and collapsing buildings. There are high-rise buildings and wealthy areas but the poverty is everywhere. There is a charm to the place, despite the feeling it may crumble into the sea at any moment. Even around where our hostel is situated, near the President's home, the buildings appear to be on the verge of collapse.

Panama is probably the first place on this trip that I have felt unsafe - this city is not the place to walk at night, even in groups. Although around Casca Vieja there is a heavy police presence so it is probably ok. 

Next door to our hostel, Casco Viejo

Torrential rain viewed from Luna's Castle

Taxi drivers lock doors as they drive through various neighbourhoods.  Casco Viejo, the colonial district, is a dilapidated area with cobblestone streets, old churches and plazas - with a Havana-esque feel. This area is currently part of an urban renewal program. I do not have any unpleasant feelings about Panama city (aside from humidity and torrential rain - but that is my fault for visiting during rainy season!). I could happily spend a few more days here but I feel fatigued with city life and really keen to get out into the countryside and getting closer to the abundant wildlife and jungle that I have read about. 

Paradiso?

The boat is a charming 60-year old, 40-feet fishing boat, oozing character but lacking the grace or beauty of a sailing boat. The French captain is a scruffy chap of 49 years who generally has a fat tube of marijuana poking out of his chapped lips. He has the weathered look of a man who has spent his life at sea. Californian, and bulging muscles from her tiny frame is the Captain's wife, Dag. She is never still, at times suspended high in the air hanging from the mast, hauling the sail or gutting fish on the deck. She expels hyperactive energy and demands attention. My first impression of her is one of dislike, but over the course of the next few days my feelings become at little more sympathetic. Together they have produced a six-year old son, an unforgettable character who has inherited the energy of his mother, the charm of his father and a lack of patience from both. Luis, a tiger whisperer who has left the Colombian circus to join the Panamanian circus is our deck hand. Fifteen unsuspecting backpackers and two motorbikes wait at Club Nautico in Cartagena, Colombia ready to set sail for Panama across the Caribbean ocean.

The not-so-beautiful boat

At 5pm, we board our vessel. Our main backpacks are dropped in the hold for the next four days. We carry a small day pack with basic necessities: suncream, bikini, towel, snacks, rum etc. All food and water is included in the price - $330 after bargaining.

Dinghy from shore to ship

We wait patiently until the Captain of the Port arrives, a fat Colombian kitted in misfitting navy dungarees. He calls out our names and ticks off his list. He begins asking which of us are couples. One pair. Then he asks Helena whether she would sleep with him? No. Then, how do we feel about sleeping with strangers off the street? At this point we are looking at each other, confused, not quite catching his drift. He continues to say that this group of people are little-more than strangers off the street, yet in such close, over-crowded quarters we are being forced to sleep side-by-side like chickens in a coop. We nod in agreement. This is not what we signed up for. The Captain promised no more than 8 people and now here we are 15 tourists, 1 deck hand, a family of three and two motorbikes. Greed has taken over and there are not enough beds for everyone. In one small dorm room, 9 people will attempt to sleep - two in a bed or zig-zagged across the floor.

We discuss the situation and decide that it is too much hassle to leave now and start the process of finding a new boat once again (we have been waiting to leave Cartagena for almost one week). Adam, Helene, Marie and myself sleep on the boat while moored in the harbour. The other backpackers return to shore. With four people, the dorm room it is HOT but we manage to get some rest until 5.30am......

We enjoy our last views of the sunset in Cartagena

We wake to the sounds of the child yelling and the mother screaming back in a similar fashion, using all kinds of obscenities. Fellow travelers arrive at 7am in time for an Argentine-style breakfast of pastries and coffee. The first major hitch occurs with the anchor and 5 men's inability to move it. It is well and truly stuck in the seabed and takes almost two hours to dislodge. The rest of us wait patiently, trying our hardest not to get in the way.

Attempts to haul the anchor

The screaming, obscenities and expressed frustration continue during this period (and during the remainder of the trip!). Eventually the boat is set free, and we spend the following hour at the 'gas station' filling up with fuel and water (we feel this should have been taken care of ahead of time).
Our estimated time of departure of 8am, quickly becomes 11am. Never mind, the group has gelled well in this time and the view over the city of Cartagena is never dull. Coincidentally almost everyone in the group is 25/26 years old and have many things in common.

Getting to know one another!

This may look like tea....

The Captain & Luis
Dag, the navigator

Helene, myself & Marie, enjoying the calm before the storm

The group consists of....Gemma, Peggy, Alice and Jess from Melbourne; Frank and Masha from New York City; Isaac from Alaska; Rob from Canada; Scott from England; Pierre and Gregory from Lille, France; and finally the most excited of the lot, Helene, Marie, Adam and myself!!

The first couple of hours at sea are pleasant. The girls are tanning on the front deck, the boys are sitting in the shade with beers. The child runs around knocking people on the head with his plastic sword and unties the girls bikinis. Marie and I discover that he loves drawing - aha, a secret weapon of distraction! We get an hour of peace, and a few more hours of sunshine.

Until rather suddenly the winds pick up. Sunbathers begin to slither around the deck and walking becomes almost impossible. The waves begin to crash over the bow, and people begin to feel unwell.

Dag prepares a rice and tuna lunch, easy on the stomach she says. Poor Masha is vomiting over the side of the boat when a wave smacks her in the face, landing her back on deck with a thump. Most of us feel at least a little queasy. The next few hours consist of laying on our backs to avoid excessive movement or concentrating profusely on any given task such as going to the bathroom (of which there the is only one, Dag cannot afford a new pump for the 2nd toilet she says). The waves continue, killing sociability on deck. The child continues to be demanding and wild. Dag's true personality is revealed over the course of the day, treating us the same way she speaks to her son with little patience or rationality. At times she is friendly and pleasant, but she can snap at any moment. In the evening, hot dogs are served which surprisingly make us feel better. That night I sleep in the dorm and my body temperature rises to all-time high, so much so that my (cheap) nail polish actually melts from my nails! This is one of the most unpleasant nights of my life. I snatch a few naps, but spend most of the night feeling claustrophobic, sea-sick and angry.

The following day the waves continue. Adam has gathered up all the flying-fish that landed on deck and is preparing to use them as bait later on. The child throws my flip flops in the sea when I am resting. Isaac from Alaska falls down the stairs. Then the child throws one of Isaac´s flip flops in the sea. He is sent to his room for 30 minutes and returns even more full of energy and mischief. The sun comes out in the late afternoon and the waves are calmer. Everyone is feeling happier, San Blas islands are in the not-too-distant future. As we approach the archipelago some dolphins race the boat! They playfully leap and dive around the boat in twos and threes.

Credit to Adam for this great shot!

We arrive at San Blas, dive into the water and swim to the nearest island. We snorkel and relax on the beach - what freedom to be off the boat.

San Blas islands
Swimming ashore

Pierre is quick it dive in

We are delighted to be back on land!

San Blas islands are famous as the local Kuna Indian tribe were the only people to reist the Spanish invasion. The islands themselves are not under Panamanian law but rather the rule of the Kuna king who dictates what goes on.

Tonight I sleep on deck with a sheet, the rain pounds down and an electric storm lights up the sky. I decide to brave the elements, I cannot face that dorm-room downstairs again. I am achy the next morning, and have acquired a cold (unsurprisingly!).

Next day the weather is cloudy and we find out that we are out of oil and the dinghy´s outboard engine is broken. We are stranded here beside these three islands until further notice. Dag attempts to blame us for the fact that the outboard is broken, and inappropriately tells us that we can find out own way to the shore by waving down passing boats! I feel my blood boil at this statement - we certainly did not pay this much money to be treated like this! She calms down, and herself and the Captain come up with some kind of plan. The rest of us backpackers are used to travel delays and waste no time in spending the day reading, swimming and snorkeling around the nearby reefs (and avoiding Dag and her mood swings wherever possible!). We have plenty of food onboard and it looks like the sun may appear from behind the clouds so there is not cause for concern. Marie, Greg and myself row 40 minutes across to the tiniest island (which looks exactly how I might have drawn a desert island as a child!). We snorkel around admiring the beautiful fish, coral and a small reef shark!! Wow!

We row back to the boat and hear the good news - the engine is fixed and we have received oil from ashore! We are moving on to another location, closer to Puerto Lindo (our final destination). Along the way we get into a party mood, blasting music and drinking rum!

Captain & DJ Adam

Wohooo...we have survived!!

Back on the boat Adam gets fishing (later I catch two!)
Dag gets gutting (I do not offer to help)

And the result...fresh fish for dinner, followed by freshly baked brownies!! hmmm

The party continues.....and we pump music and dance for hours (Luis, tiger whisperer, bottom-right)

Marie eating fresh coconut
Adam

Group shot, with myself featuring a rather cool headlamp bracelet

Again I sleep on deck along with a couple of others. More lightening and rain! Next morning, some people are leaving the boat here to catch a flight to Panama City from one of the local island airports. The motorbikes need to be brought ashore to clear customs. What a mission!

Getting two motorbikes from boat, to dinghy, to shore is not easy

Customs cleared for those leaving the boat now, our group is smaller and we are ready to complete the final leg of our journey to Puerto Lindo. It is a pleasant ride. We swim for the last time once we arrive and pack our bags ready to be brought ashore in one very overcrowded dinghy with ALL our belongings and valuables. My heart thumps as the boat sways and poor Luis lands in the water! I clutch my laptop and passport with a tight grip, praying that the boat does not topple. At last we are ashore!

Puerto Lindo

The scariest part of the journey

The happy family return to shore

Once at Puerto Lindo, we head to Wunderbar hostal where apparently we can clear emigration. For the next few days regular emigration is closed because it is voting season, so our fingers are crossed that we will be able to make it through (otherwise we will have to wait for 4 days!). Four hours later, the guy from emigration arrives and we get our passports stamped.

Boredom sets in & Helene begins catching peanuts

We have a nice octopus dinner by the sea

We sleep at the Wunderbar hostal on orthopedic mattresses and have the best night´s sleep in weeks! We rise early and catch the bus to Colon, and then on to Panama City. We have heard terrible things about how dangerous both places are so we are all a little apprehensive.

Waiting for the bus to Colon

The boat trip has certainly been an adventure, a roller-coaster of highs and lows. We are lucky we had such a great bunch of people aboard - we all got on well and were able to laugh at every disaster that occurred. When I imagined sailing the Caribbean from Colombia to Panama this is not at all what I expected....although it certainly was has been one unforgettable journey! We wave goodbye to Luis, the sweetest and most patient Colombian I have met, and wish him luck as he leaves one circus for another.