Panama: Outlaws and Island Living

Much to my regret, we only stayed in Panama City for one night before setting off to Bocas del Toro. Mouths of the Bull.

By the time we landed, I was so tired that I almost didn’t register the haphazard airport that was made up by a few cinder blocks, a tarp, and some lawn chairs.  

Located in Panama, Bocas del Toro is an archipelago made up by a series of tiny islands, some inhabited, most not.

Actually, most of the islands are mangrove plants, which are not even considered land, per se, just overgrown water plants.

Anyway, staying in Bocas del Toro was a unique experience in that, while our hotel was on the largest (least tiny) island, there were water taxis that would take us to other islands for lunch or day trips on boats like these.

Just kidding, the boats were more like these, but there were some really nice privately owned boats owned by...who? Not sure.

Nearby was Zapatillas, a deserted island about the size of a football field on which Daniel Craig filmed some steamy beach scenes.

I took this picture.

And Hollywood took this one.

I also went scuba diving for the first time and saw a shark...and a jellyfish. Or, I should say I was in the water when someone said they saw a jellyfish, at which point I jumped back on the boat.

But, hey, at least I actually did the diving. My mother, on the other hand, donned all of the equipment, told me to take this photo of her, and subsequently got out of the water forever.

Another interesting thing about Bocas del Toro is that it has been a notorious hideout for criminals fleeing the law.

While we were driving around with a friend who lives there full time, he told us this story about an American guy and his girlfriend who came to Bocas a few years prior to “buy some real estate.”

The story is that this guy, coined “Wild Bill,” killed a family of five for their estate on this tiny island. He then renamed their home “Hacienda Cortez” and turned it into a small bed and breakfast.

So, apparently this family of five lived under the radar due to a pretty sketchy past, so they were not reported missing.

It wasn’t until “Wild Bill” killed again that he was caught. He killed another american woman for her estate, but she was noticed to be missing by her family, who found it suspicious that she would disappear and leave her house and dog to this strange, burly man.

Eventually, he was caught, but this apparently wasn’t the first incident in which outlaws were found to have been hiding out in Bocas del Toro.

Furthermore, in the 1500’s, Christopher Columbus fell in love with these islands because they provided safe haven from the rough waves of the surrounding oceans.

Ships were wrecked and horses drowned in the mangrove swamps, so they had no choice but to bury their treasure and leave it behind for continued survival.

Dare I propose a return trip and a hunt for hidden treasure?

The Bahama Blunder

It’s been a little while since I’ve told one of those stories.

One of what stories, you may ask?

Oh, you know, the kind where I suffered in a foreign country and you laugh and says “Wow, better you than me!”

Well, good news, I have a new one.

I went to the Bahamas 2 years ago on a very short trip.

My mother and I were actually visiting my grandmother in South Beach, Miami, when we were offered a two day vacation to the Bahamas.

It was all quite impromptu, but the plan was that we'd drive out to the dock in the Everglades, get on this big ship that doubled as a casino and booze cruise for college kids, and head off.

On the way there, I met this really cool little guy named Carlos, but he did not have much to say, considering his snout was taped shut.

We were soon on our way to a tiny, tiny, tiny island called Freeport.

So, we boarded this huge ship and it was quite luxurious. Large casino stands, rowdy young adults, the works, it was fun.

About 45 minutes into the ride, though, everything was quiet. Why?

Well, here’s the thing about the Florida straits. They’re really, really, wavy.

Imagine a ship full of 250 seasick people. Including yours truly, I might add sheepishly.

Seriously, had I not been dying, the whole situation would have seemed pretty funny.

Baby strollers, carts, and other debris were rolling around the ship with no one there to catch them. At one point, I went into the bathroom and there was a guy (in the ladies bathroom) in a half-puking/half delirious state, just laying across the sinks with his face in the last one.

We eventually arrived safely, albeit queasily, and found that the island was deserted.

It was quite nice, we had this tiny house to ourselves, and there was essentially no one on the beaches or at the pool.

But, before I knew it, it was time to return. We were informed by the program director that, due to unforeseen circumstances, we would be taking a different boat back to Florida.

An all-night boat.  

Well, if you recall a certain Peruvian all night bus ride I took, you’d think I had learned my lesson and would be wary of all-night boat rides, too.  

I was, and I had a right to be.

So, why would this trek take all night? Because it was a mail boat.

Literally, a boat designed to ship mail across the bumpy straits between Florida and the Caribbean islands. I repeat, not meant for human cargo.

So, we board this ancient ship and are greeted by rows and rows of cold, plastic benches. AKA our sleeping quarters.

Keep in mind, we had only packed for a one night stay in a tropical place, so we were not exactly equipped with enough clothing to cushion the hard seats and warm ourselves against the overly air conditioned atmosphere.

It was a long, uncomfortable night and, after the lights went out and my ipod died, there was not much to pass the time except dreams of sleep and the tropical air.

But, we made it back to Florida and thawed, thus completing another dysfunctional story.  

Pompei and its Erotica Fatale

This week I’ll be writing about an ancient city that we all studied and were fascinated by at some point in middle school.

Pompei!

For this day trip, my mother and I took a train from Rome and, if you recall one of my blog posts from last semester, it was dreadfully hot.

Anyway, our train traveled very slowly, thus giving us ample time to see the sights. One such “sight” that comes to my mind is Naples.

Now, everyone always thinks that anything Italian is just inherently better. Italy is paradise, and everything there is chic and awesome. Right?

Wrong. Naples more than disproved that.

From our train window, we saw the black sand beaches baking under the oppressive sun and kids swimming amongst garbage piles... This was a major wake up call for me and my fantastical visions of Italy.

With two hours until our train to Pompeii, however, we decided to go into Naples, looking for The Secret Museum.

Now, if you don’t what the Secret Museum is, that’s good... It means the secret is being kept. Ha. ha.

Anyway, the Secret Museum is a collection of erotic art that was found in the ruins of Pompeii itself.  

Considered obscene by various Italian leaders, including Benito Mussolini, the collection was hidden away for almost 100 years.

After being exhibited to the public briefly in the 1960’s, it was closed again and just reopened in the year 2000.

Upon exiting the train station, however, we were faced with a busy street full of very hostile-looking people.

I kid you not, we did not walk 20 yards down said street before we decided it was a better idea to turn around and bide our time in the train station.

We read later that that was a dangerous little excursion, considering that part of Naples is actually the murder capital of Italy.  

I still regret not seeing the museum, though, so I plan on returning with a plan to find it and become privy to its secrets.

Anyway, we arrived in Pompeii unmelted only to realize that it is a huge city and, to see it, one has to walk 6 hours… a day...for two days. And that’s just to walk the perimeter of it. Did I mention it was really hot?

 

 

I was also really surprised to find that Mount Vesuvius...is not there.

Seriously, I thought there would be a huge volcano in the near distance, looming ominously and giving me goosebumps, but this place was flatter than State College.

What was really cool, though, was the museum full of relics from this ancient culture. Although I really liked the fact that it was air conditioned, that was not the only factor that came into play.

On display, without glass casings or any sort of barrier, were the calcified bodies of the villagers killed in the volcanic eruption.

 

 

At first I thought they were replicas of the real thing, but these were the real thing. Pretty creepy, really fascinating.

 

We only ended walking in the sun for an hour before eating gelato and heading back to Rome, but overall one could say it was a pretty interesting day.