I was leaving Bocas Del Torro for Panama city.
Waiting for my boat at the jetty, I was occasionally glancing at a pretty girl, all made up with tight jeans etc, when I noticed she had two machetes with her, and decided it would be best to stop looking.
The boats always seem full from the jetty, but they managed to squeeze me in, and as usual the ride was great, the boat banking and weaving like a fighter jet, or those land cruiser things from Jedi... although as we neared the shore, the great views couldn´t hide the squalor, where decrepid houses jutted haphazardly into the water and the shores were awash with filth and rubbish.
I took an unmarked taxi (always fun on your own) to the bus station, where a black guy spoke English and directed me, with some assertion, to the ticket office.
The ticket guy was crazily effeminate, and must have been gay, although this one-horse town didn´t seem like a hive of tolerance and gay bars. I think he was meant to be born in Thai land. Maybe somewhere in Koh Samui there´s a macho Thai guy that´s meant to be here.
He told me that the bus had broken and there was no direct bus today... which the black guy proceeded to translate for me.
The black guy offered me a hotel in the town for the night and to get a direct bus in the morning.
Having seen the town, but not wanting to laugh in his face, I said "If I was staying, i´d go back to
the islands...." when he suddenly remembered I could take another bus and get a connection.
I went to wait for the next bus, paranoid that he was lying to me so that I would miss my boat and have to stay in this god awful town for the night (trust is a very precious commodity when travelling solo), so I confirmed with like 5 people, as best I could in my broken Spanish.
The waiting room was also a cafe, and they were closing up, pulling the cloths from the tables to reveal that the surfaces wer wire mesh grills, like fences. I´m sure there´s a deep point to make about the thin veneer of civilization here, but I´ll let you think about that yourself.
When the mini bus arrived, the conductor was well dressed, all in black, with a fresh hair cut, and slightly bulbous features inside a well defined outline of a face.
He didn't say anything to me, and later I realised he was mute, the only sound he made was a high pitched squeak, like Beaker from sesame street.
Confirming for the Nth time this was the right bus for me with the man sitting next to me, I began to chat in my rubbish Spanglish. From his phone, he showed me pictures of his wife. "Muy bonita", I tell him. His daughters. "Que bonita, bonitas todas". He showed me a picture of his car. I couldn´t fake much enthusiasm for that.
A German traveller got on the bus. I was glad to have another traveller on the journey, so glad in fact that it took me quite a while to realise he was nice but a bit boring, telling every story in minute detail without putting any emotion into the telling.
We stopped in David for changing to the night bus for Panama city, and I bought some cookies from a stall there, form a woman with a lazy eye. I tried my best not to let the german guy know how bored I was by his conversation, so I kept going outside for cigarretes. We got the bus, I hardly slept, we arrived in Panama city at 4AM.
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