Caribbean Seas and Palm Trees

With an itch for the ocean and the desire to explore new territory, we set off for two nights at the Sister Moon Resort located on Isla Grande - in the Caribbean Sea off the Northern shore of Panama.  We were hoping to pamper ourselves a little, resort style, before returning to the US. That isn’t exactly how things turned out. I’m relieved to say that we did NOT have to stay in the deluxe houseboat that floated in the bay (pictured above). There is always a silver lining. :-) That being said, to call Sister Moon a resort might be pushing it.

We were actually given a rusty key attached to a piece of driftwood for this door.   ???    Never finding a place to insert a rusty key, we did the next best thing and kept our fingers crossed.  🤞🏻 

Once our expectations were adjusted and we dismissed our dreams of piña coladas on a white sand beach, a modern shower and maybe a TV, we saw the beauty in our surroundings. 

 

A good night’s sleep in a large bed, with a quiet air conditioner and we were ready for a day of adventure - or even better, a lazy day on a beach.  However, even if there had been a nice beach to go to (which there wasn’t) this was no beach day. Stormy skies opened to straight down rains that flowed from trickle to gully washer and back to drizzle. Being the farmers we are - that never get this kind of warm, windless rain - we greatly enjoyed watching the sky tumble into the ocean and the waves roll in and crash across the volcanic rocks that lined the shore.  

The Congo culture is evident here and we appreciated every bite of food prepared by the chef - a large, dark skinned woman who smiled broadly when we said her food is muy rico (delicious).  We also enjoyed a good book, naps in a hammock while the rain poured and teaching Andredy to play gin rummy.  Andredy is the resort desk clerk, waiter, bar tender, etc; he did everything except cook. He worked hard to make sure we had everything we needed and a good time, including playing the music we enjoy, procuring a frozen bucket of hand chipped ice after we inquired about heilo (ice) and offering to take us on a hike up to a lighthouse. 

The rain doused our plans for the lighthouse hike so instead we ventured to “town” for a little nightlife. This consisted of a quarter mile walk along a narrow, uneven path along the rocky shoreline lit by Andredy’s iPhone flashlight. Once we reached “town,” the path continued for about a half mile and ran between two rows of houses, hostels and ocean front restaurants.  Many buildings are in ruins or disrepair. We are uncertain if this is a result of a storm or if the buildings were abandoned and left to the harsh elements of the sea and jungle. We walked passed a group of people all dressed up and were disappointed to learn a Congo dance had just broken up. Wouldn’t that have been something to see?? Being a Monday evening, our night out amounted to the three of us sharing drinks at his friend’s bar.  Up until this point, Andredy and I had a terrible time communicating with each other - even with the aid of Google translate.  Somehow, as the rum kept flowing, we managed to have quite an interesting conversation. Andredy is from Columbia.  He came to Panama to try and get ahead to provide for his 18 month old son who is still in Columbia. I think he was thankful for our company as he seemed a lonely person. Once safely returned to our cabin, Kirby and I discussed how lucky we are to have been born in the US where the opportunity to work hard to get ahead has been our way of life.  

After breakfast the next day and a short boat ride back to the mainland, we enjoyed the first part of the drive back through cattle country. We can only imagine the effort it took to clear the jungle to create paddocks for the cattle. Living fences lined the road and often we would see a horse or calf tethered in the ditch - cheap “gas” for the “lawnmower.” I wish I had thought to snap a picture of the four legged weed eaters. Once, as we rounded a curve, we had to quickly break for a horse standing in the middle of the road with a rope puddled at his feet. I guess the grass was greener on the other side of the road and he escaped to find out. I wish there had been time to bring Ed to this part of Panama. Such different terrain for ranching and yet the needs for a successful cattle ranch are the same. 

The second part of the drive back to Gamboa was not as pleasant. We had to drive through the outskirts of Colón of which we have heard nothing good. This city bookends the canal with Panamá City. Ships enter and exit the canal from this port, as they do Panama City but this is where the similarities end. The Panamanians we know spend as little time there as possible and go only when it’s absolutely necessary. Ivan told us when he had to go to Colón for work, he drove straight to his office and home, only venturing out for lunch and he drove the 3 blocks to get to the restaurant. 

As we drove through Sabanita, a suburb on the outskirts of Colón, the vibe felt so different. Perhaps this is because of everything we had heard about the area but we had no desire to dilly-dally or lally-gag - of which Kirby often accuses me. We were shocked by the amount of trash along the roadway. In some places it was stacked higher than the cars in front of us and consisted of everything from bags of garbage to laundry baskets and tires. For some reason, these dumps were always located next to bus stations. We felt bad for those who had to stand next to the mess waiting for transportation and were equally sympathetic with the workers who were attempting to clean it up with a large loader tractor, dump truck and shovels. No wonder cruise ship guests who disembark at Colón only remember Panama’s trash. What a shame this is their only impression. 

Traffic moved slowly through this area, wouldn’t you know. We were very happy to get back on the highway and eager to get home. Once again - we’re truly lucky as we don’t live there and come home to this: