Interim

GANNET2 is repaired and we have a date to load our Promaster into a forty foot, high-cube container for the journey to Colombia. We are looking forward to being traveling tourists again very soon. 

Testing Days

We have the brand new brake module finally and it was installed Wednesday. All our hopes were in the cardboard box from Jerry Ulm in Tampa. Installed, it fixed the brakes but the electronic stability control is now not responding. Drive too fast and the van tips over!

Somehow we have been learning patience through this process and so far our patience has paid off in that we aren’t at each other’s throats, we aren’t blaming Rusty for our delay (!) in the tradition of kicking the cat…and we aren’t spending too much time wishing for what might have been.  But GANNET2’s  computers are giving us fits. 

So, as part of our program of trying to enjoy the unplanned as much as the hoped for, we went out for a beer.

One of the benefits of being stuck in Boquete is that we have come to quite enjoy this peculiar, ugly and yet attractive town. Everyone loves the climate up here, bug free, sweat free and even in the wet season not as bad as the swampy humidity at sea level.

If you have aspirations to flee the United States for whatever tin foil hat reason Boquete is the answer. You are expected to speak only English here as weird as that sounds. I’ve seen Americans flummoxed by making a simple greeting in Spanish, or being unable to formulate the Spanish to ask the clerk to sell them two of something instead of one. There is zero incentive to speak the local lingo.  

For travelers like us who have spent months eating locally and getting used to all manner of local customs each slightly varied in each tiny Central American country to find ourselves suddenly immersed in small town America is refreshing after we got over the weirdness of finding ourselves in Panama USA. Especially as Panama has made a big fuss about reclaiming the cabal and gaining “total sovereignty” as the slogan says on this old license plate I found at our campground. 

So we take advantage and enjoy the American-ness of our unplanned stop. Tuesday afternoon it was Boquete Brewing indistinguishable from any similar business in the US with no compromises! 

Layne had a glass of hard cider and I had a session pale ale because I don’t like strong beer that resembles battery acid. It was very pleasant and gave us a chance to get out of ourselves for a while. There is the underlying worry running through our lives that this latest repair may not work. 

We saw an appetizer menu on the food truck which gives customers a buzzer when the order is ready. It is I suppose a measure of how long we have been traveling because the idea of being served in this familiar North American way was half the fun of ordering a brat. 

Layne asked a passerby how the burgers were (they got a big thumbs up) and that turned into a lovely session of chit chat with two snowbirds who have been coming to Boquete for many winters from their home in Pennsylvania. Naturally o forgot to ask for their photo. 

The fact is we are in a bit of a jam. We are going to see if the Ram dealer in David van or will flash our van’s computer to get the stability control turning again.  They don’t sell Promasters south of Mexico so it’s uncertain if our computer does can be solved here. 

If we can’t get the can running properly we will have to make our way carefully north. Possibly we could get it checked in Mexico most likely in Oaxaca where we have a known comfortable base to camp in. We may even have to go back to the States. It’s all just a huge unknown. 

As we strolled back down the hill from the brewery Rusty freaked out as he watched carefully for signs of movement in a painted tire going double duty as a flower pot. He got on guard, stalked it and carefully checked it out. It didn’t fight back much to his relief. 

Disappointment stalks us but if we have to go back we shall and then we shall see how to press on. This journey is filled with delays and difficulties but I try to convince myself that is what makes the drive  worth while. Perseverance. One step forward two steps back. More perseverance. 

Chocolate At Altitude

Gaetano took us to one of his favorite spots overlooking Boquete whereupon I decided it was the time and place for a hot chocolate.

We had met him in Pedregal the River port on the outskirts of the big city of Davíd. We had talked across the tables and he helped us choose some fish dishes for lunch which was when I discovered he was retired Italian civil servant from Bologna. 

After Layne got over her bout with Covid he invited us to go up the mountain with him to a coffee shop with he promised, splendid views across Boquete and down to the sea. 

It was a lovely afternoon marred somewhat by me forgetting to bring my camera. Rusty stayed behind in the van for a couple of hours which he doesn’t necessarily enjoy but it gives him a chance to sleep. 

The Barú volcano across the valley long since dormant. 

It’s a funny place twenty minutes up the mountain above Boquete at around 4400 feet, and that much cooler than the city itself which lies at 3500 feet above sea level. 

I ordered hot chocolate, Layne had a blackberry juice and Gaetano had a cappuccino which we took at a table inside a little warmer than the viewing platform. 

He grew up in Sicily and went to engineering school in northern Italy in Bologna and stayed there after he got a government job. It was funny to hear his life story which meshed in odd ways with mine. 

His father a plumber emigrated to the United States for five years and made enough money to set himself up at home supplying the building trades in his home town and becoming a wealthy industrialist in Italy. His son wanted his own life and wanted to see more of the world on his own terms and do he set himself up in the north off the country away from his fathers influence. 

Now retired Gaetano wanders Latin America will though he settled for the foreseeable in Boquete. 

I enjoyed being a passenger for a change with Layne taking notes as Gaetano reeled off a list of places to eat that we should check out before we see him again. 

We got back to town in time to get tangled in the evening’s flower festival traffic: 

In point of fact his first recommendation worked out very well when we tried out what he rated as the best seafood restaurant in town. 

Fried calamari rings promised well in the clean tidy unassuming eatery. 

I had the red snapper in a lemon caper sauce and when Layne tried to order it in Mexican (!) we discovered the name for red snapper in this Spanish speaking country is quite different. Even our confused waitress got a laugh. “Huachinango” in Mexico and “pargo rojo” in Panama. Go figure! 

Layne had the Greek sauce on her red snapper and it was easily better than mine with olives feta cheese and tomatoes. Plus we had leftovers for lunch. 

The days go by pleasantly enough but at the back of my mind is that irritating thought gnawing away as I ask myself if soon, very soon we will be back on the road. 

The Decisive Week

This I hope is the week our much awaited brake module will arrive in Panama and with any luck will be shipped to Boquete and who knows, might even fit and solve our over heating brake problems. If it doesn’t…well I don’t want to think about that.

Life goes on of course, ten pounds of laundry washed dried and folded for $14, a sum so large the purser of the expedition grumbled about the bill all the way back to GANNET2.

The infernal music festival with all the crowds pushed on into Sunday night, one final effort to keep us awake before Boquete relapses into its normal weekday torpor. The number of residents at the Topas Pension has produced quite a few visitors fascinated by our camper van lifestyle. Layne the purser has been kept busy giving tours. 

My sister in Italy called me yesterday wondering where we were and what we were doing. That we were still in Panama came as a surprise, as the last she had heard was that we were going to ship before Christmas. Yup, stuff happens. And if you see a milk crate on the edge of the road, don’t ignore it or you might well fall in: 

As evening falls the flow of festival goers increases to a flood right past our van. The other night I was sitting up in the doorway (we put our camp chairs away at dusk to avoid loss by theft) and a figure loomed up over the fence. “Do you live in your van?” a drunken voice asked in Spanish full of harmless curiosity. I was not in the mood at three in the morning to satisfy his understandable curiosity and I fear I was a tad bit curt. By way of punishment the thumping music went on well past four am. 

We had an idea Saturday to go into town, away from the festival across the river, and try out the craft brewery in town. We strolled several blocks navigating traffic with Rusty taking the lead on his leash but we just had to give up. 

Downtown was a crush of cars trucks and buses and crowds of people were surging up the sidewalks in the manner of a football crowd released from the stadium. It was too much so we ducked out onto the side streets and weaved our way home. 

On Sunday we hoped things might be calmer and we tried again this time leaving Rusty home in the van. 

We made it to the Tap Out a restaurant listed on Google Maps with a long list of barbecue dishes all in English. Kansas City ribs and brisket danced before our eyes. 

Well I think the place must have got sold because the menu was a rather undistinguished sports bar listing of fried food and rather uninspired. My pulled pork plate showed up with a weird green slime of a shade never seen in nature and the barbecue sauce tasted straight from the bottle. 

Chalk that up as another revolting meal in Panama. 

Time to go home and get a nap before the nighttime entertainment blankets the town. 

A Dog’s Life

Rusty loves Boquete and he tells me so several times a day licking my face energetically in his canine expression of gratitude.

We are enjoying the cool breezes offsetting the hot sunshine at 3500 feet, and the gourmet food stores selling stuff we haven’t seen since the US. Dan, an Israeli who has lived in room at the pension here for three years was telling Layne about the Kosher bakery in town, so we get bagels now and bialys for example. 

Rusty’s routine is developing into an early morning walk, sometimes when I wake at four well before dawn we wander a few blocks together but later he has taken to leading me around town for an hour or more. Quite the change from the other countries we have visited. 

Panama is one of the wealthier countries, similar to Costa Rica, and in Boquete a town of 25,000 with 5,000 resident foreigners there is even more than average wealth. Which in turn means more cars, fewer motorcycles and bicycles and almost no street dogs. And that means Rusty has figured out he can wander without facing packs of locals on the streets. 

His favorite spot is the city park built along the lines of a vast municipal park in the US with clean public bathrooms, regular maintenance of the broad wheel chair accessible paths and a bunch of Americans who operate a friends of the park non profit to add even more value to this remarkable open space. 

Our $12 a night camp spot is somewhat park-like at the Topas Pension where you can rent a room and lots of people do during the flower festival this week in Boquete. 

Happily Rusty doesn’t chase squirrels especially as there are resident very rare black squirrels of a kind I haven’t seen since I was in Pennsylvania many years ago on the grounds of State College. 

Rainy season really is over and we get cloud filled blue skies with some threatening evening fog rolling down the mountains into town. Our days pass with a few chores, some meal planning and trying to curb our impatience as we wait for our spare part to show up. 

Boquete isn’t an architectural marvel and has none of the flair it colonial towns you might see further north, communities centered around churches and plazas with magnificent architecture and historic Spanish buildings scattered everywhere. Like Costa Rica Panana is modern and dull in an effort to be efficient. 

Rusty doesn't care and I am getting used to Panamanians and their rather brusque demeanor, something that matters less and less as I read of blizzards and freezing winters Up North. This is t-shirt weather all winter long. 

Early morning bus passengers to the big city of Davíd 40 minutes down the mountain to jobs and industry and economic activity. 

Want to rent a place (“se alquila”)? The national strike last year shut down the entire country for six weeks to force the closure of a huge copper mine. They succeeded while strangling commerce and making life extremely difficult for small businesses, so there is room to spare now. 

We’ve noticed a change in Rusty these days. He seems to be finally getting used to life in the van, and he carries himself with more confidence. He stands up to the dogs he does meet on the street so much so I don’t rate him as terribly friendly any more at least not when he’s on a leash. It’s inconvenient but I’m glad he doesn’t turn tail at the sight of a strange dog. 

The can used to worry him but these days he seems to have found his happy space. He doesn’t cower any more when rain hits the tin roof, and strong winds don’t bother him anymore. I guess he had to get used to that in ever windy Boquete. 

I have greatly enjoyed walking Rusty around town as it reminds me of the walks we used to take in Key West and even though he’s getting gray and clearly time is passing for him as much as, if not more than for me, he has tapped into a fountain of youth in Boquete. 

Layne figures we might be shipping in three weeks if all goes well with the repair and we do want to tour some parts of Panama before we load GANNET2 onto a flat rack container for Colombia. In any event I expect Rusty gets ten more days in Boquete at least and I think he will enjoy every minute. 

Strawberry town. At this altitude you can grow berries easily as if we weren’t in the tropics and they are for sale all around town. Layne insists strawberries and condensed milk (a local favorite) would be bad for me. I’m not convinced but fresh berries by themselves aren’t at all bad. Just like most of Boquete.