Thursday, October 11, 2007

tome chi chi!

Well shit, it has been a few days hasn´t it? So now I´ll have to settle for updates rather than some drawn out stories.

Monday morning we rose at the ridiculous hour of 4:45 to make the 6 am bus to Sixaola to get to Panama. Met Kerri there, enjoyed a delicious pastry filled with what must have been filidelfia (cream cheese) and a milkbox (like a juice box, but with cow juice). Long bus ride followed. Walked across the railroad bridge that connects Costa Rica to Panama, then had my first encounter with a Panamanian Chinese restraunt. Almost vomited in their bathroom because of the smell, then jumped in the taxi van where my ears were assaulted by panamanian radio commercials. Ate Rambutan and ferry station and watched bad t.v. while waiting for said boat. Then it was off to Bocas Del Toro. Upon arrival we ate at Lemongrass, thai food for people who are scared of thai food, and drank Panamanian beer. Played in the gringo hostel lottery, walked all over town, finally settling on the funky funky las brisas, and its floating back porch.

Martini monday at Mondo Taitu, met some canadians, drank vodka and cranberry with my toes in the carribean. Soberly wandered the streets with Mandy and Eva. Bed.

Woke up. Breakfast at the Golden Grill, where one can get coffe and a doughnut for 85 cents. Bought things for lunch, met our personal boat ride tout at the super and walked to the boat. Met Patriçia from Quebec, hopped on boat, drove boat to pick up Paul the asshole canadian, drove boat to pick up Kevin a teacher in Peru from Mass, drove boat to get gas, drove boat to drop off gas, drove boat to dolphins. Sat and watched dolphins in water, then watched people try to take picture of said dolphins. Realized that french seatmate has a Nikon D70 that he only uses on automatic setting. Drove boat to Zapatilla abandoned island where Survivor Panama happened. Walked down the beach to find our own spot, got followed by most of our boat mates. Sunscreened, tanned, swam, napped, swam, took ridiculous pictures in the water, walked back to boat. Talked to cruise ship guests who weren´t sure what city they had flown into or what country they were in (apparently if you are rich you don´t need to think) and remembered that I am way happier paying $6 a night even though I am convinced I am going to be killed by our ceiling fan. Went to overplaced lunch place, ate our budget supermarket lunch rather than paying to be fed. Fed the fish, made fun of Paul the canadian. Got back in boat. Snorkled. Swallowed half the carribean clearing my snorkle, diving down to see a huge urchin and to play with christmas tree anemones. Boat ride back home to our hotel´s private dock.

No time to edit don´t judge me on spelling, these central am keyboards are a bitch. Lunch time, I´ll edit and add later. Besos.

1 comment:

Victor said...

I wonder what the Canadians think about our gal, G. Possible entry from Canucks blog might read: met fascinating, complex, post-new-age travel diva named Gemma. Released from the wilds of Marin County, Gemma laughs, loves, lounges, and lunches like a wild comet. I wonder what she thinks of me.