Ought Six's Excellent Panama Adventure -- Day Two
Friday, 6 May 2011 – Panama City
I woke up the next morning and was pleased to see light filtering in through the curtains. It was a bit gray, but getting lighter. I worked out, showered and got dressed. When I was ready to go out for my one full day in Panama City, the sun came out. It quickly got up to around 90° with 100% humidity. Fortunately that does not bother me too much, but you sure sweat a lot. As it turns out, the mornings are usually gray early, then the sun comes out by about nine, then it clouds up and starts to rain about two in the afternoon. I saw a similar pattern for my entire time there. I found out that I was just catching the beginning of the rainy season, from May to November, and this year the big storms were coming in early.
The first mission was sightseeing, coffee and breakfast. I went out to the Amador Causeway, a road going out to an island about a mile offshore. It parallels the ship approach to the Panama Canal, and keeps the outflow of fresh water and silt from the canal away from the beachfront along the city. The view from out the of the city to one side and the ship traffic to the Canal on the other is just awesome. {see pics in additional post at the end of this series}
There was a newly-built small shopping mall facing the ship channel across a small marina at the end of the causeway. I parked there, and saw a restaurant that claimed to serve authentic Colombian food. I went in and ordered a meal. I could not believe it when they brought out the plate. There must have been five pounds of food on it. There was sausage, thinly-sliced Milenesia-style steak cooked with green chile paste, chicarones (pork skin; like bacon, only much thicker and chewier), a fried egg on white rice, fried plantains, fried sweet banana, rice & beans with mild peppers & onions, a biscuit-like white corn cake, and some fluffy brown stuff I that I did not know what it was. It was a fantastic meal, but I could only finish about half of it. It cost me all of $11.50. {see pics in additional post at the end of this series}
A word about the currency.... Panama uses the American dollar as its official currency, along with its native currency, the Balboa, which is tied one-to-one with the dollar. All the paper money is dollars, and the change is a mix of American and Balboa coins of the usual American denominations. That means no foreign exchange issues, which is very convenient for travelers.
Having been fed, I headed up along the Canal to the Miraflores Locks. From the rooftop of the tourist center, I watched a huge 'Panamax' container ship towed into a lock by powerful little rail locomotives, and sink down 40 feet in a few minutes. It was a really impressive sight, especially when you consider how long ago the whole thing was built. {see pics in additional post at the end of this series}
I next went to a shopping district, which was swarming with people. The street is lined with four or five story buildings, the ground floors of which are all shops. These were not top-end retailers, but were reasonably modern shops selling mostly pretty good quality stuff, with a fair amount of cheap crap mixed in. I asked around, and a shop clerk directed me to an electronics store a block down the street that sold what I was looking for; a prepaid cellphone. I got an inexpensive, basic Nokia 3G cell for $12. I could not believe how cheap it was. The owner of the shop next door happened to be hanging out in the big electronics store, and he sold prepaid minutes cards. I handed him $10, and he came back with a card and the staff at the electronics store got my cell provisioned and set up. I thought it interesting that the store selling the prepaid phones did not sell the minutes cards, but I would find out that such things are the norm in Panama.
Going to get my cellphone, I got my first good look at the city in daylight. There are newly-built areas, aging and a bit run-down areas, and a few outright hellish slums (though far less of that than I had imagined). The financial district has a cluster of tall bank buildings and hotels, surrounded by restaurants, bars and clubs. There are American fast food and store chains everywhere, right alongside the indigenous business. It is quite a varied, crowded and alive urban landscape.
The main roads are mostly pretty good, though there are constant repairs going on and some suspension-breaking potholes you need to keep your eye out for. That is not too surprising with the amount of rain they get. The side roads vary from excellent to goat tracks you need a tracked vehicle to negotiate. The parking lots tend to be in pretty rough shape.
There is a lot of traffic, and lots of newer cars, though mostly cheaper models. Small economy cars are most common, and the number one vehicle there is the Toyota Yaris; the one with the trunk, not so much the hatchback. There are also lots of small SUVs, like the Suzuki and Toyota RAV4. For those who do not have cars, there are a bazillion taxis. They are cheap and ubiquitous. And for the lower income people, there are these old school buses painted in wild color schemes covered in flashing lights. They cost $1 to ride, and will take you all over the city. Tourists are advised to not use the buses, as gang members and other scumbags consider them to be for the people, and not the gringos. You stand a chance of getting beaten and/or robbed if you take the bus.
And the police are everywhere. The ones in olive drab fatigues and black boots are the Policia Nationale, like the Mexican Federales. The Panama City police wear black uniforms, and the Tourist Police to protect the tourist spots wear brown uniforms. All the police are armed and wear ballistic vests. The Policia National carry semiauto handguns, and you will see teams of two of them riding on street/dirt bikes, the guy on the back carrying a riot gun or Uzi submachine gun. There must be at least twenty thousand police officers in Panama City alone. There is also armed private security at the entrance to just about every shop, parking structure, market, bank or whatever. I have never, ever seen anything even remotely like the concentration of security forces in the city.
After I got my phone, I went back to the hotel, called my bank and got my debit card issues straightened out. I found that when calling internationally, the number keys would not activate the 'Press 1 for' numeric menu options. I could not get through on the main number to my bank because of this, so I had to call their Collections Department (a direct number with no menus) and get transferred. But I got it done.
I hung out at the hotel for awhile, then showered, changed and went out for dinner. I had looked online using the Android tablet I had brought along, and found a place that looked promising called Las Tinajas. I ordered the grouper, but they came back and told me they were out, so I got sea bass (corvina) instead, with gallo pinto on the side (a mix of rice and beans). The fish was lightly pan-fried, and served on a bed of onions caramelized with a little balsamic. It was some of the best fish I have ever had, and I have had some damn good fish before. I finished it off with some great coconut flan. It was a memorable dinner. It was tourista prices; over $30; but I did not mind, as the food was well worth it.
On the way back, I was following the GPS's directions a couple blocks away from my hotel, and it was taking me up some small, dark side streets. I crossed a major street and kept going, per directions, but then I saw all the cars were facing the other way. I was going the wrong way up a one-way street. There were inadequate street lights, and if there was a sign, there is no way anyone was going to see it. I slowed to turn around when the light bar on the police truck lit up behind me. Oh, shit! I stopped and rolled down the window, and a young cop wearing olive drab, ballistic vest and 9mm pistol came up to my window. He was not happy. His partner was hanging back by the pickup truck with the paddy wagon cell 'camper' in the bed, grinning and enjoying the show. The cops at my window started talking fast in Espanol, and I told him I only spoke English. That flummoxed him for moment, but he dredged up enough English words to eventually make himself understood. I told him I understood that it was a one-way street, and pointed to the GPS stuck to the windshield that clearly was directing me to drive the wrong way up the street. That did not please him, either. So then he said, “Ticket! Ticket!”, the one English word he did have a firm grasp of. I just shrugged and said, “Okay.” He got frustrated and got on his walkie-talkie. He came back and shouted “Ticket! Ticket!” at me a couple more times, I said “okay” again, and he just seemed to get more frustrated. He then searched the car, and came back to the window, still talking quickly into his radio. He finally said, “You lucky. No ticket.”, and told me to turn around and get going back to my hotel. His parting shot was, “you get some coffee, wake!”
As I was driving away, it finally dawned on me what had happened, and I burst out laughing. The little punk was trying to scare me into offering him a bribe. He must have thought he scored when he pulled over a gringo for going the wrong way on a one-way. It did not work only because I was completely clueless. No wonder he was so frustrated!
I woke up the next morning and was pleased to see light filtering in through the curtains. It was a bit gray, but getting lighter. I worked out, showered and got dressed. When I was ready to go out for my one full day in Panama City, the sun came out. It quickly got up to around 90° with 100% humidity. Fortunately that does not bother me too much, but you sure sweat a lot. As it turns out, the mornings are usually gray early, then the sun comes out by about nine, then it clouds up and starts to rain about two in the afternoon. I saw a similar pattern for my entire time there. I found out that I was just catching the beginning of the rainy season, from May to November, and this year the big storms were coming in early.
The first mission was sightseeing, coffee and breakfast. I went out to the Amador Causeway, a road going out to an island about a mile offshore. It parallels the ship approach to the Panama Canal, and keeps the outflow of fresh water and silt from the canal away from the beachfront along the city. The view from out the of the city to one side and the ship traffic to the Canal on the other is just awesome. {see pics in additional post at the end of this series}
There was a newly-built small shopping mall facing the ship channel across a small marina at the end of the causeway. I parked there, and saw a restaurant that claimed to serve authentic Colombian food. I went in and ordered a meal. I could not believe it when they brought out the plate. There must have been five pounds of food on it. There was sausage, thinly-sliced Milenesia-style steak cooked with green chile paste, chicarones (pork skin; like bacon, only much thicker and chewier), a fried egg on white rice, fried plantains, fried sweet banana, rice & beans with mild peppers & onions, a biscuit-like white corn cake, and some fluffy brown stuff I that I did not know what it was. It was a fantastic meal, but I could only finish about half of it. It cost me all of $11.50. {see pics in additional post at the end of this series}
A word about the currency.... Panama uses the American dollar as its official currency, along with its native currency, the Balboa, which is tied one-to-one with the dollar. All the paper money is dollars, and the change is a mix of American and Balboa coins of the usual American denominations. That means no foreign exchange issues, which is very convenient for travelers.
Having been fed, I headed up along the Canal to the Miraflores Locks. From the rooftop of the tourist center, I watched a huge 'Panamax' container ship towed into a lock by powerful little rail locomotives, and sink down 40 feet in a few minutes. It was a really impressive sight, especially when you consider how long ago the whole thing was built. {see pics in additional post at the end of this series}
I next went to a shopping district, which was swarming with people. The street is lined with four or five story buildings, the ground floors of which are all shops. These were not top-end retailers, but were reasonably modern shops selling mostly pretty good quality stuff, with a fair amount of cheap crap mixed in. I asked around, and a shop clerk directed me to an electronics store a block down the street that sold what I was looking for; a prepaid cellphone. I got an inexpensive, basic Nokia 3G cell for $12. I could not believe how cheap it was. The owner of the shop next door happened to be hanging out in the big electronics store, and he sold prepaid minutes cards. I handed him $10, and he came back with a card and the staff at the electronics store got my cell provisioned and set up. I thought it interesting that the store selling the prepaid phones did not sell the minutes cards, but I would find out that such things are the norm in Panama.
Going to get my cellphone, I got my first good look at the city in daylight. There are newly-built areas, aging and a bit run-down areas, and a few outright hellish slums (though far less of that than I had imagined). The financial district has a cluster of tall bank buildings and hotels, surrounded by restaurants, bars and clubs. There are American fast food and store chains everywhere, right alongside the indigenous business. It is quite a varied, crowded and alive urban landscape.
The main roads are mostly pretty good, though there are constant repairs going on and some suspension-breaking potholes you need to keep your eye out for. That is not too surprising with the amount of rain they get. The side roads vary from excellent to goat tracks you need a tracked vehicle to negotiate. The parking lots tend to be in pretty rough shape.
There is a lot of traffic, and lots of newer cars, though mostly cheaper models. Small economy cars are most common, and the number one vehicle there is the Toyota Yaris; the one with the trunk, not so much the hatchback. There are also lots of small SUVs, like the Suzuki and Toyota RAV4. For those who do not have cars, there are a bazillion taxis. They are cheap and ubiquitous. And for the lower income people, there are these old school buses painted in wild color schemes covered in flashing lights. They cost $1 to ride, and will take you all over the city. Tourists are advised to not use the buses, as gang members and other scumbags consider them to be for the people, and not the gringos. You stand a chance of getting beaten and/or robbed if you take the bus.
And the police are everywhere. The ones in olive drab fatigues and black boots are the Policia Nationale, like the Mexican Federales. The Panama City police wear black uniforms, and the Tourist Police to protect the tourist spots wear brown uniforms. All the police are armed and wear ballistic vests. The Policia National carry semiauto handguns, and you will see teams of two of them riding on street/dirt bikes, the guy on the back carrying a riot gun or Uzi submachine gun. There must be at least twenty thousand police officers in Panama City alone. There is also armed private security at the entrance to just about every shop, parking structure, market, bank or whatever. I have never, ever seen anything even remotely like the concentration of security forces in the city.
After I got my phone, I went back to the hotel, called my bank and got my debit card issues straightened out. I found that when calling internationally, the number keys would not activate the 'Press 1 for' numeric menu options. I could not get through on the main number to my bank because of this, so I had to call their Collections Department (a direct number with no menus) and get transferred. But I got it done.
I hung out at the hotel for awhile, then showered, changed and went out for dinner. I had looked online using the Android tablet I had brought along, and found a place that looked promising called Las Tinajas. I ordered the grouper, but they came back and told me they were out, so I got sea bass (corvina) instead, with gallo pinto on the side (a mix of rice and beans). The fish was lightly pan-fried, and served on a bed of onions caramelized with a little balsamic. It was some of the best fish I have ever had, and I have had some damn good fish before. I finished it off with some great coconut flan. It was a memorable dinner. It was tourista prices; over $30; but I did not mind, as the food was well worth it.
On the way back, I was following the GPS's directions a couple blocks away from my hotel, and it was taking me up some small, dark side streets. I crossed a major street and kept going, per directions, but then I saw all the cars were facing the other way. I was going the wrong way up a one-way street. There were inadequate street lights, and if there was a sign, there is no way anyone was going to see it. I slowed to turn around when the light bar on the police truck lit up behind me. Oh, shit! I stopped and rolled down the window, and a young cop wearing olive drab, ballistic vest and 9mm pistol came up to my window. He was not happy. His partner was hanging back by the pickup truck with the paddy wagon cell 'camper' in the bed, grinning and enjoying the show. The cops at my window started talking fast in Espanol, and I told him I only spoke English. That flummoxed him for moment, but he dredged up enough English words to eventually make himself understood. I told him I understood that it was a one-way street, and pointed to the GPS stuck to the windshield that clearly was directing me to drive the wrong way up the street. That did not please him, either. So then he said, “Ticket! Ticket!”, the one English word he did have a firm grasp of. I just shrugged and said, “Okay.” He got frustrated and got on his walkie-talkie. He came back and shouted “Ticket! Ticket!” at me a couple more times, I said “okay” again, and he just seemed to get more frustrated. He then searched the car, and came back to the window, still talking quickly into his radio. He finally said, “You lucky. No ticket.”, and told me to turn around and get going back to my hotel. His parting shot was, “you get some coffee, wake!”
As I was driving away, it finally dawned on me what had happened, and I burst out laughing. The little punk was trying to scare me into offering him a bribe. He must have thought he scored when he pulled over a gringo for going the wrong way on a one-way. It did not work only because I was completely clueless. No wonder he was so frustrated!
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