My new travel buddy doesn’t do mornings if he can help it, so it was a delayed start heading to the ‘Big Smoke’. But the delay was most certainly worth it. If I thought it was spectacular heading up to El Valle from the east, it was completely spellbinding heading back down towards the west. The spine of Panama, the Cordillera Central, rises abruptly from near the Pacific coast in this region resulting in a narrow, tightly winding road traversing its steep slopes to gradually descend to the flatlands below. Alpine summits loftily cast deep shadows into valleys cut hundreds of metres beneath them. And the vista as our little minivan trundled along was as panoramic as it was magnificent.
All too soon though, we were back down coasting along the coastline. Well, near enough to it; the Pan American Highway a stark contrast to the tight mountain road which led to it. From here on, it was a speedy traverse on to Panama City. But not before we crossed the world famous Panama Canal on the majestic Bridge of the Americas. To the north, you could see shipping coming down the canal having just completed a tightly scripted 8-10 hour journey from the Caribbean. To the south were a myriad of shipping anchored waiting for their turn to traverse in the other direction. The busy Port of Panama City lay immediately in the southern foreground.
Mike and I stayed on the minibus until it reached its terminus at the Albrook Transport Centre. I had found a cheap hostel online in the old part of Panama City, while Mike had booked something way more salubrious in Amador near the canal. We lunched together at the modern mall next to the terminal, then Mike organised an Uber, dropping me off at my new digs along the way. With a promise to let him know what I was up to the following day, I bid him farewell and checked into my hostel.
Hostel Casa Relic was one of those hostels which sound amazing and just the ticket online, but fail miserably and spectacularly in reality. As I could get a private room for just a few dollars a night more than a dorm bed, I went for that option, paying for two nights. My amiable host showed me to a dank, windowless room with an unmade bed someone had clearly been sleeping in. I checked out the female dorm room and it didn’t have a window either. There was also only one female bathroom which contained the only toilet, however, I was assured I was the only female staying at the moment so it wouldn’t be a problem. I decided to stick with the private room, sourced clean bed linen, then went out in search of beer.
The hostel manager saw that I was interested in the heritage of the building and happily offered to give me a guided tour. Built in 1688, the building is one of the oldest in the now World Heritage Listed Site. Casco Viejo was established in 1673 after the original capital was attacked by that devastatingly dashing privateer, Henry Morgan and his motley maritime mates. Rather than hand over the loot to that moustachioed monster, the City Mayor decided to torch the place to the ground. Hence, a new city site was needed after the pesky pirates sulkily retreated from whence they came. Casco Viejo was the result two years later.
Casco Viejo is also where the Panamanian President resides and has his offices. In amongst crumbling ruins, superbly renovated buildings, cozy plazas and what seemed like a cathedral on every corner, Casco Viejo is certainly a juxtaposition of architectural saviour and decay. With the Presidential Palace and associated buildings carefully carved out from public access and tightly guarded.
After a wander through the cobbled streets and exploring Casco’s many narrow streets and alleys, it was time to find a sunset bar for cocktails and something to eat. This I discovered hidden at the rear of one of the many souvenir shops lining Casco’s thoroughfares. The bar, though small, opened out to an uninterrupted view of the black sand, tidal beach surrounding Casco’s peninsula. A perfect way to finish off my first day in the Panama’s capital.
Wild Woman Wandering 