When in Panama...

Tourist visas in Costa Rica last 90 days, so in order for us to stay here until January, we were required to leave the country for 3 days. This past weekend we took a trip to Bocas del Toro, Panama. The plan originally was to take a bus from San Jose to Puerto Viejo, which is about 4 hours, spend the night, and then continue on to Bocas the next day. However, a bridge had collapsed on the highway we needed to take, and we were forced take an alternate route. The trip was supposed to be about 2 hours longer but ended up taking us about 12 hours in total. A car had crashed and the roads were completely backed up. We sat and waited for about 3 hours not moving at all, and when we finally started moving it was at a slow stop and go. We arrived at puerto viejo around midnight and spent what little time we had sleeping in hammocks. Early the next morning we headed towards the border. 

Crossing the border was quite the adventure in itself. We were told to bring our exiting flight itinerary, for it is necessary to leave and reenter the country. I had my flight information, but unfortunately it did not have my name printed o it anywhere, and the panama police were not about to let me in. This gave me a small little panic attack, but I was able to walk to an internet cafe and print out a new copy from my email. From the border we traveled in a van for about an hour and then a boat for another 45 minutes. Bocas and the surrounding islands were incredible. Upon arriving at Bocas we ate lunch and checked into a hostel.

 After this we decided to ride bikes to the beach with our group. Expecting a short 1, maybe 2 mile ride we did not think to bring water. The bike ride was beautiful, we rode through a thick rain forest, lots of low hanging vines and big green trees. We also passed some small communities and saw lots of little kids playing outside. It was pretty tranquila. After about an hour we were told we still had 6 km to go, which was pretty frightening seeing as we were already all exhausted. I kept going though, and perfected my no hands technique. After what seemed like forever we arrived at the beach. It was a white sand, clear blue water, paradise. The cold water felt amazing after being so hot and sweaty. After this we got back on our bikes and started the long ride home. After about 3 miles Jon’s chain snapped off and it was getting too dark to see how to fix it. We struggled with this for a solid 10 minutes, and by the time it was back on it had gotten so dark we couldn’t see 1 foot in front of our faces. The jungle that had been so enchanting in the daylight was now dark, loud, and full of god knows what and god knows who. I started to panic a little bit but knew my friend Tyler was close behind. That was, until, I said something and no response came. I yelled for Tyler but it was pretty clear at this point he was not behind me anymore, and I couldn’t see Jon in front either. This is where I got scared, but I knew I was not about to stop and wait in the pitch black Panamanian jungle, so I just took off and started yelling “Chicos??” until finally (probably 2 minutes but felt like 2 hours) ran into Jon, who looked pretty freaked out. We decided it was probably a good idea to stick together and ride at a slow and steady pace. Jon and I tried to make conversation but honestly we were both panicking so hard it was kind of difficult. This is where my energy started depleting. I needed water and my legs were completely exhausted. We kept going through and eventually came upon Donovan, Conner, and Karlos. I had never been so happy to see those boys. We decided that Tyler and the other girls were safe because they were with both of our adult male costa rican leaders, and that we shouldn’t sit around and wait for them. Every one of us wanted out of the jungle, so we kept going. We rode in a line and played marco polo to keep a judge on how far apart we were, because we literally couldn’t see a thing. We sang and joked and the attitude was generally positive, which kept me from panicking. Everything was going smoothly, except for when I fell in a ditch that i didn’t see at all but I didn’t get hurt or anything so we just kept going. The adrenaline was flowing at this point and I knew I was going to be okay. The feeling I had when I saw the city lights in the distance made the whole disaster so worth it. I was so happy to know we were getting out safe and in one piece. In the end I was incredibly proud of myself for pushing myself and riding the whole way. That is for sure a first in my life! The other group ended up walking their bikes back because Tyler’s tire had popped, (This is why he fell behind). I was just thankful we all made it out without getting robbed, raped, or attacked by jaguars! That night we chilled in the park, listened to the reggae band playing across the street from our hostel, and collapsed into bed. The next day had its own adventures. We woke up early and got on a boat taxi that took us to different islands. One was the most beautiful place I have ever been in my life, a national park, jungle, beach, paradise. We also went snorkeling (encountered some jelly fish but Pura Vida), visited an indigenous community, and saw dolphins. At the end of the tour we were sunburned but smiling. That evening us girls bought souvenirs and walked around town. We decided we wanted to go to sleep early because we had a long day of traveling ahead, but we’re roped into going out by Jon and Karlos. All of us took a boat taxi to a place called “Aqua Lounge.” It was a bar, on the ocean, and the whole thing was a dock with spaces where we could swim and swings that swung into the ocean. We swam and danced all night. It was literally so. much. fun.  When Jon came to find me to leave however, I tried to locate my shoes, and they were nowhere to be found! Jon’s pants had also been stolen, so we made the trek back looking a little worse for the wear. The reggae band across the street from out hostel was still playing music and so we all stopped in the park and danced under the stars.. A perfect end to a weekend full of adventures. 

The trip home was fairly uneventful in comparison to the rest of the weekend. Made it home with about 30 mosquito bites, cuts on my legs, and one too many stories to tell. 

Pura Vida