Panama
(2002 & 2019)
María Chiquita
Landing in PTY: The Bus to María Chiquita
In 2002, my journey took me out of South America and straight into Central America, landing at Tocumen International Airport in Panama City. Back in those days, Panama wasn't the major tourism hotspot it is today; very few backpackers were traveling through this tropical corridor, which gave the whole country a raw, adventurous feel.
Instead of staying in the capital, I immediately hopped on a local bus heading toward the Caribbean coast, bound for the small coastal village of María Chiquita.
That bus ride changed everything. It was there that I struck up a conversation with a local Panamanian named Rafael. We hit it off instantly, sharing stories and laughs as the bus rattled through the green landscape. That random encounter turned into a beautiful, lifelong friendship—we are still close friends to this day, and I even went back to visit him in both 2019 and 2020.
Landing in PTY: The Bus to María Chiquita
In 2002, my journey took me out of South America and straight into Central America, landing at Tocumen International Airport in Panama City. Back in those days, Panama wasn't the major tourism hotspot it is today; very few backpackers were traveling through this tropical corridor, which gave the whole country a raw, adventurous feel.
Instead of staying in the capital, I immediately hopped on a local bus heading toward the Caribbean coast, bound for the small coastal village of María Chiquita.
That bus ride changed everything. It was there that I struck up a conversation with a local Panamanian named Rafael. We hit it off instantly, sharing stories and laughs as the bus rattled through the green landscape. That random encounter turned into a beautiful, lifelong friendship—we are still close friends to this day, and I even went back to visit him in both 2019 and 2020.
Saltwater in the Room: Frank & Maria’s Sanctuary on the Caribbean
Back in 2002, Rafael gave me the ultimate insider tip: a small, rustic hostel run by an expat named Frank and his partner Maria.
The place was the absolute definition of raw, unpolished beach life. It was built so incredibly close to the Caribbean Sea that during high tide, the ocean waves would actually wash right into our rooms! I highly doubt the place was legally built or up to any official building codes, but it was paradise. Falling asleep to the roaring ocean and waking up with saltwater literally at your feet was unforgettable. Sadly, Frank later took his own life, which brings a tragic, poignant shadow to the memory of that place. But back then, under his and Maria's roof, we had the most incredible, carefree time, surrounded by the rough beauty of the Caribbean coast.
Back in 2002, Rafael gave me the ultimate insider tip: a small, rustic hostel run by an expat named Frank and his partner Maria.
The place was the absolute definition of raw, unpolished beach life. It was built so incredibly close to the Caribbean Sea that during high tide, the ocean waves would actually wash right into our rooms! I highly doubt the place was legally built or up to any official building codes, but it was paradise. Falling asleep to the roaring ocean and waking up with saltwater literally at your feet was unforgettable. Sadly, Frank later took his own life, which brings a tragic, poignant shadow to the memory of that place. But back then, under his and Maria's roof, we had the most incredible, carefree time, surrounded by the rough beauty of the Caribbean coast.
Swallowed by Time: The Abandoned Jungle Club
Shadows of the G.I.s: The Forgotten American Clubhouse
Deep in the tropical greenery of the coast, we stumbled upon a eerie, decaying concrete shell that felt like a ghostly monument to a completely different era.
Nobody around really seems to know the full truth about this building anymore. The local rumors say it was once an American military clubhouse, a recreation hub built back in the day to provide entertainment, drinks, and a escape for the U.S. G.I.s stationed in the Panamanian jungle. Word has it that this "club" was still actively buzzing with music, laughter, and soldiers well into the 1970s and 1980s.
Shadows of the G.I.s: The Forgotten American Clubhouse
Deep in the tropical greenery of the coast, we stumbled upon a eerie, decaying concrete shell that felt like a ghostly monument to a completely different era.
Nobody around really seems to know the full truth about this building anymore. The local rumors say it was once an American military clubhouse, a recreation hub built back in the day to provide entertainment, drinks, and a escape for the U.S. G.I.s stationed in the Panamanian jungle. Word has it that this "club" was still actively buzzing with music, laughter, and soldiers well into the 1970s and 1980s.
What exactly happened behind these crumbling, graffiti-covered walls? Who danced here, who shared their secrets, and what wild tropical nights did this structure witness? We will likely never know.
As the years roll by, the jungle is aggressively reclaiming its territory, wrapping its green vines and roots around the concrete beams. Piece by piece, the clubhouse is slipping into absolute oblivion. Soon, it will be swallowed entirely by the rainforest—fading away into a forgotten whisper of history. Forever.
As the years roll by, the jungle is aggressively reclaiming its territory, wrapping its green vines and roots around the concrete beams. Piece by piece, the clubhouse is slipping into absolute oblivion. Soon, it will be swallowed entirely by the rainforest—fading away into a forgotten whisper of history. Forever.
...beach-facing side of the "Clubhouse" and view of the sea from the front of the building...
...formerly the "Bar"...
What exactly happened behind these crumbling, graffiti-covered walls? Who danced here, who shared their secrets, and what wild tropical nights did this structure witness? We will likely never know. As the years roll by, the jungle is aggressively reclaiming its territory, wrapping its green vines and roots around the concrete beams. Piece by piece, the clubhouse is slipping into absolute oblivion, fading away into a forgotten whisper of history. Remains of old houses can be found time and again... – the secret of Playa María Chiquita!
Pirate Bays & Fresh Coconuts: An Adventure with Rafael
Following the coast, Rafael and his brother took me to a spectacular, hidden spot where a river mouth opens up straight into the Caribbean Sea. The place felt like something straight out of an adventure novel.
Right there, sitting silently in the calm, shallow waters near the mangrove trees, was a ghost of the sea. A weathered, abandoned two-masted ship was just anchored or stranded out in the bay, completely still against the horizon. It looked like an old pirate vessel forgotten by time, adding a beautifully mysterious vibe to the tropical landscape.
Rafael's brother decided to give me a true taste of Panamanian hospitality. He climbed all the way to the top into the swaying green fronds just to harvest a fresh, wild coconut for us to share right there on the shore. Cracking it open and drinking the sweet, cool water while looking out at that shipwrecked bay was the absolute definition of Caribbean freedom. It’s these spontaneous, raw moments shared with locals that make traveling so deeply rewarding.
Following the coast, Rafael and his brother took me to a spectacular, hidden spot where a river mouth opens up straight into the Caribbean Sea. The place felt like something straight out of an adventure novel.
Right there, sitting silently in the calm, shallow waters near the mangrove trees, was a ghost of the sea. A weathered, abandoned two-masted ship was just anchored or stranded out in the bay, completely still against the horizon. It looked like an old pirate vessel forgotten by time, adding a beautifully mysterious vibe to the tropical landscape.
Rafael's brother decided to give me a true taste of Panamanian hospitality. He climbed all the way to the top into the swaying green fronds just to harvest a fresh, wild coconut for us to share right there on the shore. Cracking it open and drinking the sweet, cool water while looking out at that shipwrecked bay was the absolute definition of Caribbean freedom. It’s these spontaneous, raw moments shared with locals that make traveling so deeply rewarding.
Piecing Together Paradise: A Handmade Horizon
When you travel with an analog camera, capturing the sweeping beauty of the Caribbean coast requires a bit of artistic resourcefulness. To create this panorama, I physically layered several developed prints together back home.
If you look closely, you can see the actual edges where the different frames collide—from the rocky island on the left to the weathered, moss-covered tree on the shoreline. This physical texture gives the landscape a raw, deeply personal character. It’s a dynamic piece of art that perfectly captures the shifting perspective of that unforgettable day.
When you travel with an analog camera, capturing the sweeping beauty of the Caribbean coast requires a bit of artistic resourcefulness. To create this panorama, I physically layered several developed prints together back home.
If you look closely, you can see the actual edges where the different frames collide—from the rocky island on the left to the weathered, moss-covered tree on the shoreline. This physical texture gives the landscape a raw, deeply personal character. It’s a dynamic piece of art that perfectly captures the shifting perspective of that unforgettable day.
Tola
Territory of the Ngäbe Indians
Territory of the Ngäbe Indians
The Pacific Ocean can be seen in the background
Into the Highlands: Welcome by the Ngäbe in Tolé
In 2002, a Dutch traveler and I decided to head deep into the mountainous region of Tolé, the ancestral territory of the indigenous Ngäbe people. Reaching these remote mountain communities felt like entering a completely different world, far away from any tourist trails.
Our sudden arrival caught the villagers completely by surprise. They didn't see travelers often, yet their hospitality was instant. The community gathered and generously offered us a place to set up our camp right inside the local schoolhouse.
River at Seni-Sombrero
Carriers cross the river bridge at Seni-Sombrero (From there, a path leads to the village of Chichica (approximately a 2-hour walk on a rocky trail))
NGÄBE Indians / Guaymi Indians
Two young Ngäbe girls were so incredibly fascinated and excited by our presence that they basically became our personal guides. During the day, they proudly took us by the hand to show us their world. They led us along the winding riverbanks, through the thick green valleys, and up the scenic hillsides of Tolé. Seeing the raw, majestic landscape through their enthusiastic eyes made this spontaneous immersion into the Ngäbe culture a deeply humbling experience—a true testament to the warmth of the Panamanian people.
Facts about the Ngäbe Indians:
- The Largest Tribe: The Ngäbe are the largest indigenous group in Panama, primarily living in the mountainous region of the Comarca Ngäbe-Buglé in the west of the country.
- The Nagua Dresses: The women are famous for their beautiful, vibrant full-length dresses called Naguas. These geometric dresses are entirely handmade, brightly colored, and feature intricate applique trim shaped like triangles, representing the jagged mountain ridges of their homeland.
- The Chácara Bags: They are masters of crafting Chácaras, which are incredibly sturdy bags knitted by hand using natural fibers from the pita plant and colored with organic jungle dyes.
- Deep Sovereignty: In 1997, after years of intense political struggle, they successfully established their own semi-autonomous territory (Comarca) to protect their lands, culture, and traditional legal system from modern exploitation.
- Language and Nature: The community is deeply connected to the natural world and actively speaks Ngäbere, preserving their rich oral traditions and ancient agricultural knowledge through generations.
Boca Brava
Into the Wild Pacific: Isla Boca Brava
After our deeply humbling days with the Ngäbe in Tolé, the Dutch traveler and I pushed further west into the Chiriquí province, heading toward the rugged Pacific coast. Our destination was Isla Boca Brava, a sparsely populated island paradise completely isolated from the modern world.
The moment you cross the narrow channel to the island, the soundtrack changes entirely. Boca Brava is a wild sanctuary famous for its massive population of howler monkeys. As we trekked along the raw jungle paths under the thick primary rainforest canopy, their deep, prehistoric roars echoed through the trees. It felt incredibly adventurous.
Into the Wild Pacific: Isla Boca Brava
After our deeply humbling days with the Ngäbe in Tolé, the Dutch traveler and I pushed further west into the Chiriquí province, heading toward the rugged Pacific coast. Our destination was Isla Boca Brava, a sparsely populated island paradise completely isolated from the modern world.
The moment you cross the narrow channel to the island, the soundtrack changes entirely. Boca Brava is a wild sanctuary famous for its massive population of howler monkeys. As we trekked along the raw jungle paths under the thick primary rainforest canopy, their deep, prehistoric roars echoed through the trees. It felt incredibly adventurous.
Look at this tranquil view I captured from the island! The afternoon sun makes the Pacific water sparkle like a sheet of diamonds. Surrounded by lush, green uninhabited islands stretching across the Gulf of Chiriquí, the whole landscape breathed absolute peace. There were no crowds, no massive resorts—just raw jungle meeting empty sand shores. It was the perfect place to swing in a hammock, listen to the wildlife, and fully embrace the true, untamed freedom of Panama's wild coast
Above: A seamless view of our deserted island paradise, handcrafted from three individual analog prints—look closely on the right, and you can see our homemade raft floating peacefully in the bay!
Below: Secluded, pristine beaches as far as the eye can see, and howler monkeys in the trees everywhere.
Below: Secluded, pristine beaches as far as the eye can see, and howler monkeys in the trees everywhere.
Modern-Day Robinson Crusoe: Building a Raft in the Pacific
We didn't just stay on the main island; we pushed further out into the completely unpopulated marine national park. Back in 2002, this entire gulf was a forgotten paradise, and we had these tropical islands virtually all to ourselves.
But as fate would have it in the backpacker world, we weren't entirely alone. We crossed paths with a wonderful Italian couple who shared our exact same taste for absolute freedom and crazy ideas. Instead of just renting a local boat, we decided to take matters into our own hands: we built our own raft!
We didn't just stay on the main island; we pushed further out into the completely unpopulated marine national park. Back in 2002, this entire gulf was a forgotten paradise, and we had these tropical islands virtually all to ourselves.
But as fate would have it in the backpacker world, we weren't entirely alone. We crossed paths with a wonderful Italian couple who shared our exact same taste for absolute freedom and crazy ideas. Instead of just renting a local boat, we decided to take matters into our own hands: we built our own raft!
Teamwork in Paradise: Island Camping and Raft Adventures
We gathered fallen wood, bamboo, and whatever materials we could find on the empty shores to piece together a functional, floating craft. It was pure team effort and incredibly fun. Once our handmade raft was ready, we pushed it into the water and actually used it to navigate around the shallow bays and island shores!
Floating across that crystal-clear Pacific water on a raft we built with our own hands, surrounded by untouched jungle islands, felt completely surreal. It was the ultimate, raw adventure—a perfect testament to that wild 2002 travel style where limits didn't exist and strangers became partners in crime in the middle of nowhere.
We gathered fallen wood, bamboo, and whatever materials we could find on the empty shores to piece together a functional, floating craft. It was pure team effort and incredibly fun. Once our handmade raft was ready, we pushed it into the water and actually used it to navigate around the shallow bays and island shores!
Floating across that crystal-clear Pacific water on a raft we built with our own hands, surrounded by untouched jungle islands, felt completely surreal. It was the ultimate, raw adventure—a perfect testament to that wild 2002 travel style where limits didn't exist and strangers became partners in crime in the middle of nowhere.
Bocas del Toro
Dolphins and Turquoise Waters: The Lost Caribbean of Bocas
Next, the road took me to the Caribbean side, to the stunning archipelago of Bocas del Toro. Back in 2002, this place was completely untouched by mass tourism. There were no crowded beach bars or luxury resorts—just a sleepy, laid-back vibe with colorful wooden Caribbean houses on stilts and endless turquoise water.
I rented a beautiful, simple bungalow right on the water and spent my days exploring the surrounding islands by boat.
(Photos: Waterfront buildings at El Almirante)
Dolphins and Turquoise Waters: The Lost Caribbean of Bocas
Next, the road took me to the Caribbean side, to the stunning archipelago of Bocas del Toro. Back in 2002, this place was completely untouched by mass tourism. There were no crowded beach bars or luxury resorts—just a sleepy, laid-back vibe with colorful wooden Caribbean houses on stilts and endless turquoise water.
I rented a beautiful, simple bungalow right on the water and spent my days exploring the surrounding islands by boat.
(Photos: Waterfront buildings at El Almirante)
Bocas del Toro
My first excursion took me to Isla Bastimentos, an island famous for its rugged, wild beaches and dense jungle paths. The raw beauty of the coastline was spectacular. On the way back, our boat cruised past Punta Juan Brown, giving us incredible views of the isolated mangroves and hidden reef channels where the jungle drops straight into the sea.
Isla Bastimentos & its beaches
On the way back past Punta Juan Brown to Bocas del Toro.
For my second tour, we headed out to the remote, uninhabited islands of Cayos Zapatilla. These twin islands are part of the marine national park and look like the ultimate Caribbean postcard with white sand and towering palms. But the absolute highlight happened on the open water: we were surrounded by dozens of wild dolphins leaping gracefully alongside our boat. Having these magical creatures put on a private show in such an empty, peaceful paradise was a moment of pure bliss.
Numerous dolphins are swimming in Laguna Bastimentos. I don't know if you can see him ;-)
Rio Sixaola
Border with Panama and Costa Rica
The Border Thriller: Surviving Rio Sixaola
To leave Panama and cross over into Costa Rica back in 2002, we didn’t just walk across a standard checkpoint. We had to take a motorized canoe straight down the Río Sixaola, the river that forms the natural border between the two countries.
Calling it a boat ride is an understatement—it was a pure fight for survival.
Safety standards were non-existent, and the local drivers were notoriously reckless. The moment the captain hit the throttle, the boat practically took off. We went flying down the muddy river at a terrifying speed, twisting and turning through the currents while the dense jungle walls blurred past on both sides.
Border with Panama and Costa Rica
The Border Thriller: Surviving Rio Sixaola
To leave Panama and cross over into Costa Rica back in 2002, we didn’t just walk across a standard checkpoint. We had to take a motorized canoe straight down the Río Sixaola, the river that forms the natural border between the two countries.
Calling it a boat ride is an understatement—it was a pure fight for survival.
Safety standards were non-existent, and the local drivers were notoriously reckless. The moment the captain hit the throttle, the boat practically took off. We went flying down the muddy river at a terrifying speed, twisting and turning through the currents while the dense jungle walls blurred past on both sides.
Look at this shot I took right from the back of the boat! You can literally see the violence of the wake and the white spray tearing through the water. Holding onto my camera while bouncing hard over the river swells was a challenge of its own. It was a wild, adrenaline-pumping, and completely unvarnished way to say goodbye to Panama—an adventure we luckily lived to tell!
Panama 2019: The 18-Year Reunion
The Night Bus to the Past
In 2019, my journey took a deeply personal turn. I hopped on a long-distance night bus from Costa Rica, heading straight for Panama City. This wasn't a typical tourist trip; I was on a mission to reconnect with my Panamanian friend Rafael after 18 long years.
Back in 2002, a random bus ride had sparked our lifelong friendship, and now, almost two decades later, I was back—not just as a visitor, but as a guest in his home in Colón. Living with Rafael was his Colombian partner, Marina, and her son, Gilmar. Sharing their space, their meals, and their daily lives gave me a profound, unfiltered look into the real heartbeat of Panama that no hotel could ever provide.
In 2019, my journey took a deeply personal turn. I hopped on a long-distance night bus from Costa Rica, heading straight for Panama City. This wasn't a typical tourist trip; I was on a mission to reconnect with my Panamanian friend Rafael after 18 long years.
Back in 2002, a random bus ride had sparked our lifelong friendship, and now, almost two decades later, I was back—not just as a visitor, but as a guest in his home in Colón. Living with Rafael was his Colombian partner, Marina, and her son, Gilmar. Sharing their space, their meals, and their daily lives gave me a profound, unfiltered look into the real heartbeat of Panama that no hotel could ever provide.
Guided by an Expert: Exploring el Centro Viejo
Since Gilmar was studying tourism at university, I had the absolute best local guide I could have ever asked for. He took me on an extensive sightseeing tour of Panama City, showing me the sharp contrasts that define this modern metropolis.
Our main stop was el Centro Viejo, the beautiful historic quarter. Walking through the narrow cobblestone alleys felt like turning the pages of time. I captured dozens of photos of the beautifully restored colonial buildings, the grand plazas, and the ornate balconies overflowing with colorful bougainvillea.
But what makes Panama City so fascinating is how history collides with the future. Right from the edges of the historic streets, you look out across the bay to see a staggering backdrop: the towering, ultra-modern skyline of Panama City, with its glittering glass skyscrapers rising like concrete giants out of the ocean. Gilmar also showed me the bustling harbor area, where massive ships queue up to enter the legendary canal, creating a spectacular contrast between centuries-old colonial charm and global shipping power. It was the perfect, heartfelt homecoming.
Since Gilmar was studying tourism at university, I had the absolute best local guide I could have ever asked for. He took me on an extensive sightseeing tour of Panama City, showing me the sharp contrasts that define this modern metropolis.
Our main stop was el Centro Viejo, the beautiful historic quarter. Walking through the narrow cobblestone alleys felt like turning the pages of time. I captured dozens of photos of the beautifully restored colonial buildings, the grand plazas, and the ornate balconies overflowing with colorful bougainvillea.
But what makes Panama City so fascinating is how history collides with the future. Right from the edges of the historic streets, you look out across the bay to see a staggering backdrop: the towering, ultra-modern skyline of Panama City, with its glittering glass skyscrapers rising like concrete giants out of the ocean. Gilmar also showed me the bustling harbor area, where massive ships queue up to enter the legendary canal, creating a spectacular contrast between centuries-old colonial charm and global shipping power. It was the perfect, heartfelt homecoming.
Beauty and Decay: The Ghost Houses of Casco Viejo
Walking through the narrow cobblestone streets of the historic quarter—known locally as Casco Viejo or Casco Antiguo—is a surreal visual experience. As an artist who loves raw textures, shifting layers, and urban friction, I was completely mesmerized. The neighborhood is a living chessboard of absolute contrasts: one minute you are standing in front of a multimillion-dollar, pristine colonial boutique hotel, and the very next, you are looking at a crumbling, roofless concrete shell with wild jungle vines bursting out of the empty window frames.
Despite the massive wave of renovations reshaping the city, these silent ghost houses stand at almost every corner. Exploring the area with Gilmar, I learned the fascinating, complex history behind why so much of this beautiful heritage remains abandoned in plain sight.
Walking through the narrow cobblestone streets of the historic quarter—known locally as Casco Viejo or Casco Antiguo—is a surreal visual experience. As an artist who loves raw textures, shifting layers, and urban friction, I was completely mesmerized. The neighborhood is a living chessboard of absolute contrasts: one minute you are standing in front of a multimillion-dollar, pristine colonial boutique hotel, and the very next, you are looking at a crumbling, roofless concrete shell with wild jungle vines bursting out of the empty window frames.
Despite the massive wave of renovations reshaping the city, these silent ghost houses stand at almost every corner. Exploring the area with Gilmar, I learned the fascinating, complex history behind why so much of this beautiful heritage remains abandoned in plain sight.
Wrought Iron and Ruined Walls: The Hidden Secrets of Casco Antiguo
The Architecture of a Global Crossroads
Casco Viejo is actually the second version of the city. The original settlement, Panama Viejo, was completely ransacked and burned to the ground by the notorious pirate Henry Morgan in 1671. In 1673, the city was rebuilt on this fortified peninsula to make it safe from future pirate attacks.
Because Panama has always been a meeting point for the world, the architecture of these ruins is a wild mix of cultures. You see thick, defensive Spanish colonial stone walls and shaded inner courtyards designed to beat the heat. But you also see a heavy French architectural influence. When the French attempted to build the Panama Canal in the late 19th century, they brought their own elegant style to the neighborhood. This is why the crumbling facades are lined with those stunning, intricate wrought-iron balconies and mansard roofs, giving the area an eerie flair reminiscent of old Paris or New Orleans.
The Architecture of a Global Crossroads
Casco Viejo is actually the second version of the city. The original settlement, Panama Viejo, was completely ransacked and burned to the ground by the notorious pirate Henry Morgan in 1671. In 1673, the city was rebuilt on this fortified peninsula to make it safe from future pirate attacks.
Because Panama has always been a meeting point for the world, the architecture of these ruins is a wild mix of cultures. You see thick, defensive Spanish colonial stone walls and shaded inner courtyards designed to beat the heat. But you also see a heavy French architectural influence. When the French attempted to build the Panama Canal in the late 19th century, they brought their own elegant style to the neighborhood. This is why the crumbling facades are lined with those stunning, intricate wrought-iron balconies and mansard roofs, giving the area an eerie flair reminiscent of old Paris or New Orleans.
The UNESCO Dilemma: Decaying Palaces in a Modern Capital
The Secret Behind the Ruins
So, why are these historic treasures left to rot in a prime real estate zone? It comes down to three major factors:
The Secret Behind the Ruins
So, why are these historic treasures left to rot in a prime real estate zone? It comes down to three major factors:
- The UNESCO Dilemma: In 1997, Casco Viejo was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site, placing every single structure under strict preservation laws. Investors are legally banned from tearing down ruins; they must rebuild them using incredibly expensive, historic artisan methods. For many local owners, the cost of meeting these strict regulations is simply impossible, so they leave the buildings empty.
- Tangled Ownership Roots: Following the dark decades of the Noriega dictatorship and the 1989 U.S. invasion, the neighborhood was completely abandoned by the wealthy and taken over by local gangs. When the economic boom finally hit in the 2000s, the legal ownership of hundreds of these ruins was a complete mystery. Many court battles over who actually owns these historic deeds have dragged on for decades, leaving the structures trapped in legal limbo while nature slowly reclaims the stone.
- The Ghost of Gentrification: For years, these abandoned palaces served as informal tenement housing (casas de vecindad) for dozens of poor local families. As gentrification swept through to build luxury rooftop bars and high-end restaurants, many residents were evicted. Where building permits or court injunctions have frozen development, the homes were simply gutted and left behind—standing today as beautiful, haunting skeletons that hold the true, gritty memory of Panama's past.
The Great Fashion Illusion: The Panama Hat
While exploring the historic center, we passed a beautiful shop filled with these iconic hats, and I just had to buy one for my son. But here is the ultimate twist: Panama hats are actually not from Panama at all—they are 100% Ecuadorian!
These famous straw hats have been hand-woven from the toquilla palm in Ecuador for centuries. They got their misleading name in the 19th and early 20th centuries during the construction of the Panama Canal. Thousands of hats were imported to Panama to protect the workers and engineers from the brutal tropical sun. When U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt visited the canal construction site in 1906, he was photographed wearing one, and the media quickly dubbed it a "Panama Hat." The name stuck forever, turning a traditional Ecuadorian craft into Panama's most famous fashion illusion!
While exploring the historic center, we passed a beautiful shop filled with these iconic hats, and I just had to buy one for my son. But here is the ultimate twist: Panama hats are actually not from Panama at all—they are 100% Ecuadorian!
These famous straw hats have been hand-woven from the toquilla palm in Ecuador for centuries. They got their misleading name in the 19th and early 20th centuries during the construction of the Panama Canal. Thousands of hats were imported to Panama to protect the workers and engineers from the brutal tropical sun. When U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt visited the canal construction site in 1906, he was photographed wearing one, and the media quickly dubbed it a "Panama Hat." The name stuck forever, turning a traditional Ecuadorian craft into Panama's most famous fashion illusion!
The Port of Panama City: Where Oceans Meet
The harbor area of Panama City offers one of the most unique nautical views in the world. Looking out over the water, you are staring directly at the Pacific entrance of the legendary Panama Canal. The harbor acts as a massive global waiting room: at any given hour of the day, dozens of colossal international cargo ships, tankers, and cruise liners sit anchored out in the bay, waiting for their precise slot to transit through the canal to the Atlantic Ocean. It is a spectacular clash of scales—watching local wooden fishing boats bobbing in the foreground while the largest shipping giants on the planet frame the horizon against the city’s ultra-modern skyline.
The harbor area of Panama City offers one of the most unique nautical views in the world. Looking out over the water, you are staring directly at the Pacific entrance of the legendary Panama Canal. The harbor acts as a massive global waiting room: at any given hour of the day, dozens of colossal international cargo ships, tankers, and cruise liners sit anchored out in the bay, waiting for their precise slot to transit through the canal to the Atlantic Ocean. It is a spectacular clash of scales—watching local wooden fishing boats bobbing in the foreground while the largest shipping giants on the planet frame the horizon against the city’s ultra-modern skyline.
Art with a Voice: The Murals of Casco Viejo
Panama City’s historic center isn’t just an open-air museum for colonial architecture—it is also a vibrant canvas for powerful street art and graffiti. But as an artist, my eyes were drawn to a specific mural that carried a deep, emotional weight.
This isn't just random street art; it’s a beautifully raw text painting with a profound human rights message. Written in bold, hand-painted letters on a weathered wall, the Spanish text translates to: “This mural was created based on the stories and drawings of refugees and asylum seekers in Panama. Refugees are men, women, boys, and girls who have been forced to flee violence and persecution to save their lives.”
Seeing this in the heart of the city was deeply moving. It is a powerful reminder of Panama’s modern reality as a major crossroads for people fleeing hardships across the continent. For me, this is what true street art is all about: using a simple concrete wall as a microphone to tell urgent, real-life stories and give a voice to the voiceless. It adds a beautiful, gritty layer of empathy and social conscience to the colorful streets of Casco Viejo.
Panama City’s historic center isn’t just an open-air museum for colonial architecture—it is also a vibrant canvas for powerful street art and graffiti. But as an artist, my eyes were drawn to a specific mural that carried a deep, emotional weight.
This isn't just random street art; it’s a beautifully raw text painting with a profound human rights message. Written in bold, hand-painted letters on a weathered wall, the Spanish text translates to: “This mural was created based on the stories and drawings of refugees and asylum seekers in Panama. Refugees are men, women, boys, and girls who have been forced to flee violence and persecution to save their lives.”
Seeing this in the heart of the city was deeply moving. It is a powerful reminder of Panama’s modern reality as a major crossroads for people fleeing hardships across the continent. For me, this is what true street art is all about: using a simple concrete wall as a microphone to tell urgent, real-life stories and give a voice to the voiceless. It adds a beautiful, gritty layer of empathy and social conscience to the colorful streets of Casco Viejo.
Panama Canal
Crossing the Big Ditch: An Insider View of the Panama Canal
As a special surprise during the Carnival season, Rafael packed Marina, Gilmar, and me into the car. We left the capital behind and headed north toward Colón and the Caribbean coast to stay at his aunt’s house. But to get there, we had to cross one of the greatest engineering marvels on planet Earth: the Panama Canal.
Experiencing the canal from inside a local car, driven by a lifelong friend, felt completely different from standing on a crowded tourist viewing deck. We were right in the middle of the action.
Crossing the Big Ditch: An Insider View of the Panama Canal
As a special surprise during the Carnival season, Rafael packed Marina, Gilmar, and me into the car. We left the capital behind and headed north toward Colón and the Caribbean coast to stay at his aunt’s house. But to get there, we had to cross one of the greatest engineering marvels on planet Earth: the Panama Canal.
Experiencing the canal from inside a local car, driven by a lifelong friend, felt completely different from standing on a crowded tourist viewing deck. We were right in the middle of the action.
Industrial Giants: Ships and Swells at the Canal Entrance
The scale of this place is absolutely mind-blowing. As we made our way across, I captured a whole series of photos showcasing the massive international cargo ships and towering container vessels lining up to enter the locks. Standing so close to these metal giants as they slowly glide through the narrow channels—with just inches to spare on either side—is spectacular. You can literally feel the pulsing energy of global trade moving right beneath your feet. It’s a brilliant clash of industrial power and tropical landscape, and passing through it with Rafael’s family made the journey to the coast unforgettable.
The scale of this place is absolutely mind-blowing. As we made our way across, I captured a whole series of photos showcasing the massive international cargo ships and towering container vessels lining up to enter the locks. Standing so close to these metal giants as they slowly glide through the narrow channels—with just inches to spare on either side—is spectacular. You can literally feel the pulsing energy of global trade moving right beneath your feet. It’s a brilliant clash of industrial power and tropical landscape, and passing through it with Rafael’s family made the journey to the coast unforgettable.
The Panama Canal — Quick Facts:
- The Global Shortcut: Opened in 1914, the 82-kilometer canal connects the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, saving ships a dangerous 13,000-kilometer journey around the stormy tip of South America.
- A Deadly History: The first attempt to build the canal by the French in the 1880s failed completely, costing the lives of over 22,000 workers due to yellow fever, malaria, and massive landslides. The United States later took over and finished the project.
- The Lock System: The canal acts like a massive water elevator. A system of gravity-powered locks lifts ships 26 meters high up to Gatun Lake and safely lowers them back down to sea level on the other side.
- The Expansion: In 2016, a massive expansion project was completed, adding a third lane of mega-locks to allow the world's largest modern cargo vessels—known as NeoPanamax ships—to pass through.
- The Tolls: Passing through is not cheap. Every ship must pay a toll based on its size and cargo. While giant container ships can pay up to $1 million for a single transit, the lowest toll ever paid was just 36 cents by American adventurer Richard Halliburton, who swam the canal in 1928!
Colón
The Raw Reality of Colón: A Return to the Streets
Before we reached his aunt’s house for Carnival, Rafael drove me through Colón—the city where he grew up. Passing through these streets in 2019 brought back an intense rush of memories from my first visit in 2002, and it serves as a powerful reminder of the raw, unvarnished contrasts of Panama.
Back in 2002, shortly after meeting Rafael, he invited me to his family home. I stayed the night in an incredibly run-down building. The place was completely overcrowded with people, there was no running water, and the electricity only worked half the time. It was a brutal, eye-opening night that tested my limits as a traveler, but it also showed me the genuine, unpretentious hospitality of people who share everything they have, even when they have almost nothing.
Nineteen years later, looking out the car windows in 2019, the city of Colón felt like a ghostly shadow of the past.
Before we reached his aunt’s house for Carnival, Rafael drove me through Colón—the city where he grew up. Passing through these streets in 2019 brought back an intense rush of memories from my first visit in 2002, and it serves as a powerful reminder of the raw, unvarnished contrasts of Panama.
Back in 2002, shortly after meeting Rafael, he invited me to his family home. I stayed the night in an incredibly run-down building. The place was completely overcrowded with people, there was no running water, and the electricity only worked half the time. It was a brutal, eye-opening night that tested my limits as a traveler, but it also showed me the genuine, unpretentious hospitality of people who share everything they have, even when they have almost nothing.
Nineteen years later, looking out the car windows in 2019, the city of Colón felt like a ghostly shadow of the past.
Colonial Decay: Driving Through Panama’s Most Contrast-Rich City
Colón is a city of devastating beauty. It features spectacular, grand colonial architecture with sweeping balconies and historic facades, but almost the entire city is completely falling apart. Decaying concrete, peeling paint, and crumbling structures are everywhere. Seeing this level of urban decay right next to the multi-billion-dollar Panama Canal is shocking. It is a gritty, heavy, and complicated place, but it holds a vital piece of the country's true identity—one that most tourists completely skip.
Colón is a city of devastating beauty. It features spectacular, grand colonial architecture with sweeping balconies and historic facades, but almost the entire city is completely falling apart. Decaying concrete, peeling paint, and crumbling structures are everywhere. Seeing this level of urban decay right next to the multi-billion-dollar Panama Canal is shocking. It is a gritty, heavy, and complicated place, but it holds a vital piece of the country's true identity—one that most tourists completely skip.
Behind the Decay: Why Colón is Falling Apart
It is shocking to see such intense poverty right next to the wealthy Panama Canal. The collapse of this historic port comes down to four quick reasons:
It is shocking to see such intense poverty right next to the wealthy Panama Canal. The collapse of this historic port comes down to four quick reasons:
- The Economic Void: When the U.S. military bases closed and forces pulled out, thousands of local jobs vanished overnight.
- The Free Zone Enclave: Colón home to the world’s second-largest Free Trade Zone, but it operates as a walled-off enclave. The billions generated there go to global corporations, not into the city's streets or schools.
- Political Neglect: For generations, the central government ignored the Atlantic coast, leaving the city without investments or funds to restore its historic center.
- Failing Infrastructure: Built on a swampy island, the city's drainage system has failed since the 1950s. Heavy rains constantly flood the streets, and the salty Caribbean air aggressively eats away at the old structures.
Quick Facts: The Story of Colón:
- The Golden Era: Founded in 1852 as the Atlantic terminal for the Panama Railroad, the city became incredibly wealthy during the California Gold Rush and later the canal construction.
- The Architecture: The city’s historic center was heavily inspired by French and Caribbean architecture, famous for its beautiful wooden balconies and grand neoclassical concrete plazas.
- The Decline: Despite being home to the world's second-largest Free Trade Zone (Zona Libre), political neglect and economic shifts turned the historic quarters into a hotspot for poverty and structural decay over the late 20th century.
Carnaval at the Atlantic Coast
The Spirit of the Nengres: Caribbean Carnival 2019
On our way down to Rafael’s aunt’s house in Mague, the road trip turned into a wild, interactive piece of street theater. Every few kilometers, our car was forced to slam on the brakes because the road was completely blocked by the Congos.
The Rum Toll: Surviving the Congo Roadblocks
This is one of the most unique and thrilling Carnival traditions on the Caribbean coast. Groups of local men, dressed in reversed clothing, wild masks, and mirrors, block the highway with ropes or tree branches. Backed by the hypnotic, booming pulse of African tambor drums, they refuse to let cars pass until you pay a "road toll".
It’s an absolute blast. If you pay up a few coins, you are immediately cheered on by the crowd, and they hand you a shot of local rum straight through the car window to celebrate your safe passage!
The Spirit of the Nengres: Caribbean Carnival 2019
On our way down to Rafael’s aunt’s house in Mague, the road trip turned into a wild, interactive piece of street theater. Every few kilometers, our car was forced to slam on the brakes because the road was completely blocked by the Congos.
The Rum Toll: Surviving the Congo Roadblocks
This is one of the most unique and thrilling Carnival traditions on the Caribbean coast. Groups of local men, dressed in reversed clothing, wild masks, and mirrors, block the highway with ropes or tree branches. Backed by the hypnotic, booming pulse of African tambor drums, they refuse to let cars pass until you pay a "road toll".
It’s an absolute blast. If you pay up a few coins, you are immediately cheered on by the crowd, and they hand you a shot of local rum straight through the car window to celebrate your safe passage!
This tradition isn't just a party game; it carries a powerful historical weight. During Carnival, the descendants of the Cimarrones recreate the era when their ancestors ruled the jungle hideouts. Blocking the roads is a satirical flip of history—mocking the old Spanish colonial masters by demanding money from anyone entering their free territory. Navigating these musical roadblocks with Rafael, laughing with the drummers, and taking shots of rum on the asphalt was the ultimate, raw welcome to the soul of the coast.
Sleepless in Mague: Two Wild Nights of Bass and Congos
When we finally made it past the roadblocks and arrived at Rafael’s aunt’s house, we realized we hadn’t just come to a village—we had landed right in the middle of a beautiful, sonic war zone. For two wild nights, sleep was absolutely out of the question!
Our house was literally surrounded by three open-air discotheques and at least five massive, roaring sound systems blowing bass from every single corner.
When we finally made it past the roadblocks and arrived at Rafael’s aunt’s house, we realized we hadn’t just come to a village—we had landed right in the middle of a beautiful, sonic war zone. For two wild nights, sleep was absolutely out of the question!
Our house was literally surrounded by three open-air discotheques and at least five massive, roaring sound systems blowing bass from every single corner.
Caribbean Bass and Non-Stop Beats: Living the Carnival Madness
During the hot daylight hours, the vibe was beautifully relaxed. We spent our time swimming in a close-by river and cooling off. But the second the sun went down, the entire village transformed into a massive, pulsing dance floor. The energy was electric. The Congos would dance for up to four nights straight without stopping, fueled by pure passion and the heavy beat of the drums.
Dance or Pay: Surviving the Congo Circles
You couldn't just stand on the sidelines and watch, either. As a spectator, you are constantly dragged into the circle to dance. And if you refuse or back down, you have to pay the fine by giving them some coins or a splash of rum! It was loud, sweaty, exhausted, and completely wild. Enduring those sleepless nights with Rafael's family, surrounded by a village that simply refuses to stop moving, was one of the most intense and authentic party experiences of my life.
During the hot daylight hours, the vibe was beautifully relaxed. We spent our time swimming in a close-by river and cooling off. But the second the sun went down, the entire village transformed into a massive, pulsing dance floor. The energy was electric. The Congos would dance for up to four nights straight without stopping, fueled by pure passion and the heavy beat of the drums.
Dance or Pay: Surviving the Congo Circles
You couldn't just stand on the sidelines and watch, either. As a spectator, you are constantly dragged into the circle to dance. And if you refuse or back down, you have to pay the fine by giving them some coins or a splash of rum! It was loud, sweaty, exhausted, and completely wild. Enduring those sleepless nights with Rafael's family, surrounded by a village that simply refuses to stop moving, was one of the most intense and authentic party experiences of my life.
The Congo Culture of Panama — Quick Facts:
- Maroon Heritage: The Congos are the proud descendants of the Cimarrones—enslaved Africans who broke their chains as early as the 16th century and built free kingdoms in the coastal jungles.
- UNESCO Protection: In 2018, the unique Congo ritual dances, music, and satirical street theater were officially declared an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO.
- The Secret Code: To speak without their masters understanding, they invented a secret dialect where words mean the exact opposite of their true meaning (e.g., saying "good morning" at midnight).
- The Satirical Rebellion: Their wild Carnival dances are an interactive mockery of the Spanish slaveholders. Dancers wear clothes inside-out and use crowns made of recycled materials to show that the poor are the true kings.
- Matriarchal Power: The community is traditionally led by the Congo Queen (La Reina), who holds the supreme authority over the village celebrations and performance groups.
- Sacred Drums: The music is driven by the Tambor Congo—a heavy drum hollowed out from a tree trunk—accompanied by powerful call-and-response singing and rhythmic handclapping.
San Blas Islands
The Final Frontier: Going Solo to the San Blas Islands
After the loud, sleepless madness of Carnival, I packed my backpack once again and headed out completely on my own for the ultimate finale of my Panama journey: the legendary San Blas Islands. Officially known as the autonomous territory of Guna Yala, this archipelago of over 365 tiny coral islands is managed entirely by its indigenous people, the Guna, who have fiercely protected their paradise from modern mass tourism.
The adventure started right at the small, rustic coastal harbor where you board the traditional wooden speedboats. The docks are a high-energy transition point, packed with locals loading supplies, fresh fish, and backpacks into narrow boats before bouncing across the open waves of the Caribbean Sea.
The Final Frontier: Going Solo to the San Blas Islands
After the loud, sleepless madness of Carnival, I packed my backpack once again and headed out completely on my own for the ultimate finale of my Panama journey: the legendary San Blas Islands. Officially known as the autonomous territory of Guna Yala, this archipelago of over 365 tiny coral islands is managed entirely by its indigenous people, the Guna, who have fiercely protected their paradise from modern mass tourism.
The adventure started right at the small, rustic coastal harbor where you board the traditional wooden speedboats. The docks are a high-energy transition point, packed with locals loading supplies, fresh fish, and backpacks into narrow boats before bouncing across the open waves of the Caribbean Sea.
A Masterclass in Textile Art: The Guna Museum & Molas
Once I arrived on the main islands, I spent hours exploring the local community and visited the fascinating Guna Museum. As an artist, walking through this space was an absolute spiritual awakening. The museum is dedicated to preserving the deep heritage of the tribe, but the absolute showstoppers were the extensive displays of Molas.
Once I arrived on the main islands, I spent hours exploring the local community and visited the fascinating Guna Museum. As an artist, walking through this space was an absolute spiritual awakening. The museum is dedicated to preserving the deep heritage of the tribe, but the absolute showstoppers were the extensive displays of Molas.
The Fabric of Paradise: Exploring Guna Yala and the Magic of Molas
Molas are world-famous, traditional textile art pieces handmade exclusively by the Guna women. They are crafted using a complex "reverse applique" technique, layering multiple pieces of brightly colored fabric and cutting away patterns to sew them together with invisible stitches. The designs are brilliant—ranging from intricate, hypnotic geometric shapes that represent the spirit world to stylized depictions of jungle animals, birds, and local myths. Seeing the intense color combinations, the flawless precision, and the hours of pure devotion sewn into every single fabric layer was a massive inspiration for my own creative soul.
Molas are world-famous, traditional textile art pieces handmade exclusively by the Guna women. They are crafted using a complex "reverse applique" technique, layering multiple pieces of brightly colored fabric and cutting away patterns to sew them together with invisible stitches. The designs are brilliant—ranging from intricate, hypnotic geometric shapes that represent the spirit world to stylized depictions of jungle animals, birds, and local myths. Seeing the intense color combinations, the flawless precision, and the hours of pure devotion sewn into every single fabric layer was a massive inspiration for my own creative soul.
The Rebel Flag & The Soul of the Guna
During my visit to the Guna museum, I stumbled upon a historic book cover that perfectly captures the fierce, independent spirit of this unique tribe.
The cover features a swastika-like symbol, which can be shocking at first glance. However, it has absolutely nothing to do with European fascism. For the Guna, this is the Durgaband—an ancient, sacred symbol representing the four cardinal directions and the creation of the universe. In 1925, during the bloody Guna Revolution, the tribe chose this traditional symbol for their official rebel flag to fight against government oppression. The Guna used it proudly as an emblem of freedom and resistance long before it was misused in Europe.
During my visit to the Guna museum, I stumbled upon a historic book cover that perfectly captures the fierce, independent spirit of this unique tribe.
The cover features a swastika-like symbol, which can be shocking at first glance. However, it has absolutely nothing to do with European fascism. For the Guna, this is the Durgaband—an ancient, sacred symbol representing the four cardinal directions and the creation of the universe. In 1925, during the bloody Guna Revolution, the tribe chose this traditional symbol for their official rebel flag to fight against government oppression. The Guna used it proudly as an emblem of freedom and resistance long before it was misused in Europe.
Living the Postcard: Island Solitude
The rest of my final days were spent completely drifting away on the paradise shores.
My photos of the islands capture that surreal, untouched solitude. These tiny patches of white sand are so small you can walk around them in five minutes, featuring nothing but a cluster of traditional cane huts, a few towering palm trees leaning over the shore, and water so impossibly clear it looks like liquid glass. Sleeping in a rustic hammock, listening to the gentle lap of the ocean, and being surrounded by the ancient, quiet power of the Guna culture was the most beautiful, meditative farewell to a deeply transformative journey.
The rest of my final days were spent completely drifting away on the paradise shores.
My photos of the islands capture that surreal, untouched solitude. These tiny patches of white sand are so small you can walk around them in five minutes, featuring nothing but a cluster of traditional cane huts, a few towering palm trees leaning over the shore, and water so impossibly clear it looks like liquid glass. Sleeping in a rustic hammock, listening to the gentle lap of the ocean, and being surrounded by the ancient, quiet power of the Guna culture was the most beautiful, meditative farewell to a deeply transformative journey.
Behind the Culture: Three Quick Guna Facts
- Pure Autonomy: After winning their 1925 revolution, the Guna established the autonomous territory of Guna Yala. They control their own laws and borders, and outsiders are strictly banned from buying land or building mega-resorts on the islands.
- The Matriarchal Power: The Guna society is deeply matriarchal. Family inheritance, property, and houses are passed down from mothers to daughters, and husbands traditionally move into the household of their wife’s family.
- Molas as a Sacred Language: The famous handmade Molas are a visual archive of their history. Guna women originally painted these complex geometric patterns directly onto their bodies as protection. When forced to wear clothes by missionaries, they masterfully transferred these sacred spiritual symbols into fabric layers.
Panama
(2020)
2020: The Nine-Hour Cargo Odyssey in the Panama Heat
In February 2020, just weeks before the borders of the world slammed shut, I made one final trip back to Panama. But this time, I wasn’t just traveling with a backpack—I was shipping my own artwork. I sent two full-sized car hoods over as airline cargo. One of them was a special gift for Rafael, and he was already waiting to help me wrestle them out of the airport customs abyss.
The journey to claim the cargo started with a bizarre twist of luck: when I arrived at the airport's cargo section, the security simply let me pass without any checks, permits, or even asking to look at my passport. But Rafael already knew that the real challenge was just beginning.
What followed was a brutal, nine-hour lesson in Latin American bureaucracy:
In February 2020, just weeks before the borders of the world slammed shut, I made one final trip back to Panama. But this time, I wasn’t just traveling with a backpack—I was shipping my own artwork. I sent two full-sized car hoods over as airline cargo. One of them was a special gift for Rafael, and he was already waiting to help me wrestle them out of the airport customs abyss.
The journey to claim the cargo started with a bizarre twist of luck: when I arrived at the airport's cargo section, the security simply let me pass without any checks, permits, or even asking to look at my passport. But Rafael already knew that the real challenge was just beginning.
What followed was a brutal, nine-hour lesson in Latin American bureaucracy:
- The Paperwork Jungle: First, we had to fill out thousands of official forms. They even forced us to generate a commercial invoice on the spot—a completely chaotic requirement for a personal gift, but that’s the reality of navigating the system here.
- The Two-Hour Lockdown: Just as we thought we were making progress, the entire customs office closed down for a mandatory two-hour lunch break, forcing us to sit and wait in the sweltering heat.
- The Two-Hour Tetris: Once the paperwork was finally stamped, we had to physically load the two giant car hoods into our vehicle. It took us two agonizing hours under the blistering tropical sun to squeeze and wedge the metal hoods into the car, leaving us completely packed in and squished inside the seats.
By the time we drove up to the final customs checkpoint, we had spent the entire day stranded at the airport cargo docks with absolutely no water and no food. Our throats were so bone-dry that we could barely even speak. Honestly, I think the only reason the final customs officer didn't force us to unload everything for an inspection was our completely destroyed, exhausted appearance. He took one look at our sweaty, worn-out faces and just waved us through.
Rafael had to skip work entirely that day, and our very first stop after escaping the airport gates was a local shop to chug down cold drinks. Back at the apartment, Marina was already waiting for us with a massive, home-cooked meal. Despite the total exhaustion, seeing the pure, immense joy on Rafael's face when he finally held his custom-designed car hood made every single single hour of that hot airport nightmare totally worth it!
Rafael had to skip work entirely that day, and our very first stop after escaping the airport gates was a local shop to chug down cold drinks. Back at the apartment, Marina was already waiting for us with a massive, home-cooked meal. Despite the total exhaustion, seeing the pure, immense joy on Rafael's face when he finally held his custom-designed car hood made every single single hour of that hot airport nightmare totally worth it!
The Second Hood & A Sudden Festival Return
Once the Panama cargo battle was won, it was time for the second part of the mission. I boarded my flight to Costa Rica to bring the second custom car hood to my Costa Rican friend, Yrna.
Right at the check-in counter, the airport staff initially refused to take the giant package, claiming it was simply too big, even though it was within the official legal dimensions. But the moment I mentioned that I was also a Lufthansa staff member, the whole dynamic shifted instantly. Faces lit up, the corporate connection clicked, and suddenly, checking in a massive car hood was no problem at all!
After a wonderful time delivering the artwork in Costa Rica, it was time to fly back to Panama for my final return.
Once the Panama cargo battle was won, it was time for the second part of the mission. I boarded my flight to Costa Rica to bring the second custom car hood to my Costa Rican friend, Yrna.
Right at the check-in counter, the airport staff initially refused to take the giant package, claiming it was simply too big, even though it was within the official legal dimensions. But the moment I mentioned that I was also a Lufthansa staff member, the whole dynamic shifted instantly. Faces lit up, the corporate connection clicked, and suddenly, checking in a massive car hood was no problem at all!
After a wonderful time delivering the artwork in Costa Rica, it was time to fly back to Panama for my final return.
Rafael was already waiting for me at the arrivals gate to pick me up. But instead of taking the bags back to the apartment to unpack and rest, he had a completely different surprise planned. We drove straight from the airport runway into the pulsing heart of the city to attend a massive music festival right in the middle of a public park!
Going from the sterile airport environment and a flight directly into a sea of loud music, open skies, and dancing crowds was a beautiful, surreal rush of energy.
Going from the sterile airport environment and a flight directly into a sea of loud music, open skies, and dancing crowds was a beautiful, surreal rush of energy.
One Wild Night in Panama: Latino Drama, Reggae, and Morning Confessions
My final story before the 2020 lockdown is perhaps the wildest of them all, a night that proves one thing: there is always something happening in Latin America, and it never follows a script.
It started with a reunion. My friend Eva, who had fled Nicaragua to seek political asylum, was living in Panama City. A year earlier, she and I had climbed the rugged Maderas Volcano in Nicaragua together and hit it off instantly. Marinas son, Gilmar, and I decided to look her up at her apartment in the capital. What was supposed to be a casual visit quickly turned into an entire day of popping champagne, laughing, and acting completely foolish together.
As the sun went down, the party shifted locations, and we ended up getting completely lost in the rhythm at a local reggae bar. We danced, we drank, and we completely lost track of time.
My final story before the 2020 lockdown is perhaps the wildest of them all, a night that proves one thing: there is always something happening in Latin America, and it never follows a script.
It started with a reunion. My friend Eva, who had fled Nicaragua to seek political asylum, was living in Panama City. A year earlier, she and I had climbed the rugged Maderas Volcano in Nicaragua together and hit it off instantly. Marinas son, Gilmar, and I decided to look her up at her apartment in the capital. What was supposed to be a casual visit quickly turned into an entire day of popping champagne, laughing, and acting completely foolish together.
As the sun went down, the party shifted locations, and we ended up getting completely lost in the rhythm at a local reggae bar. We danced, we drank, and we completely lost track of time.
6:00 AM Truths: Screaming Bass and Silent Bonds with Gilmar
By the time the bar closed in the early morning hours, things took a heavy turn into classic Latino drama. Eva and her boyfriend got caught in a massive, fiery wave of jealousy. It was an intense, passionate scene, and Gilmar and I practically had to carry the two of them back to their apartment and make sure they were safely tucked into bed.
Exhausted, running on zero sleep, and with the sun already rising, Gilmar and I stumbled out onto the street to catch a ride home. In our completely worn-out state, we accidentally hopped into the wrong Uber vehicle!
Somehow, the driver managed to navigate us back to Rafael’s house. As we sat outside the building at 6:00 AM in the morning light, watching the city wake up, Gilmar turned to me. Right there on the sidewalk, he opened his heart and confessed to me that he was gay. It was a zutiefst moving, beautiful moment of trust after a night of total chaos. We were sleepless, we were spent, but our hearts were completely full. That is the magic of the road—you start the night with a bottle of champagne, and you end it with a lifelong bond in the morning light.
By the time the bar closed in the early morning hours, things took a heavy turn into classic Latino drama. Eva and her boyfriend got caught in a massive, fiery wave of jealousy. It was an intense, passionate scene, and Gilmar and I practically had to carry the two of them back to their apartment and make sure they were safely tucked into bed.
Exhausted, running on zero sleep, and with the sun already rising, Gilmar and I stumbled out onto the street to catch a ride home. In our completely worn-out state, we accidentally hopped into the wrong Uber vehicle!
Somehow, the driver managed to navigate us back to Rafael’s house. As we sat outside the building at 6:00 AM in the morning light, watching the city wake up, Gilmar turned to me. Right there on the sidewalk, he opened his heart and confessed to me that he was gay. It was a zutiefst moving, beautiful moment of trust after a night of total chaos. We were sleepless, we were spent, but our hearts were completely full. That is the magic of the road—you start the night with a bottle of champagne, and you end it with a lifelong bond in the morning light.
