Farewell to Bocas Del Toro

Sleep that night is problematic for me as Munro has deemed fit to turn off the air conditioner and my foot and 53 mozzy bites (yes, that's an accurate count) throb and itch. Benedryl doesn't really help block the histamine and I'm just dozing off at 5:30 AM when Munro wakes me up.

Now, before you all think I'm a complaining, ungrateful wench because of these bites, please understand that my legs and arms are covered in bites and they throb and itch with great abandon. I've brought cortisone cream, dry mustard to apply as a poultice, and Benadryl as a histamine blocker. Oh, let's not forget the bottle of 100% DEET (now empty) and the sunscreen with 20% DEET.

My left foot is swollen, the mustard packs provide only temporary relief, and Munro announces he wants to go back to Bastimentos, stay overnight in a very suspect 'hotel,' and hike through uncleared forest to find tree frogs.

Now, under normal circumstances, I'd be the first to head to see tiny red tree frogs. I adore the little colorful frogs. But I can't bend my big and second toes on my left foot and I'm exhausted. Vacations with Munro can be an endurance test at times - no lazing on sandy beaches with cabana boys serving cocktails!

I lose it as the 'hotel' he has in mind had gaps between the planking, no electricity, a shared toilet (shower not even mentioned) and there is no place to eat on the island unless we bring our own food.

Citing extreme pain and sleep deprivation (our hotel is adorable, but it's a block away from the prison and the local party house. NYC discos don't create the same amount of bass thump and noise!), and a sincere lack of desire for one more hot, sweaty, buggy hike through a forest, I object.

Actually, I burst into tears, said I was leaving the god-damned island no matter what, wanted a divorce, was taking all the cash and heading back home. I'd be happier (I sobbed) sleeping in an airport waiting for a standby flight home than getting bitten by more microscopic spiders!

Also, I thought the plan was to take off to the Pacific side and go to Mono Feliz and check out monkeys and surf.

Back up details: Except for the first 2 nights, Munro has refused to state how many days he wants to stay at Hotel du Parque, necessitating a complete packing job every day, storage of our bags during the day, and a new check in every night. This is a pain in the butt and I know the proprietors thinks we're odd. Heck, I think it's odd. We had also discussed heading West (optimally via plane, but in typical fashion, Munro refuses to even find out about reservations and timetables and actively discourages me from doing so as well...his mother must have had a lid on his playpen or something. He hates structure! Lonely Planet gives complex directions to get to Mono Feliz, and will require us to rent a 4 wheel drive in David.

After I melt down, I tell Munro that I'm game for the trek (there's that word again!) to Punta Burica, but will not go back to tiny spider island. The 2 sets of bites are now bigger than the bug that bit me and are beginning to blister. Charming.

So, off we go, after a breakfast of the freshest fruit, to find out the plane schedule. We get to the hotel office at the other end of town to find out that Lonely Planet's plane schedules are not accurate. Shocking. There is only 1 plane, it is scheduled to leave in 20 minutes (we can make it though, if we grab a cab and get back to our hotel quickly), and the nice lady will call to find out if there are seats.

Uh oh! Plane has just left! Early, for whatever reason. This being Friday, there be 'no plane 'til Monday,' to paraphrase Jimmy Buffett. Fun aside: He (Jimmy Buffett) had just left Bocas a few days before we arrived. His yacht was there for several weeks and Caroline Kennedy Schlossberg was their guest.

We mope a bit and then figure out an alternative plan - take a water taxi to Almirante, grab a bus to David, and find a rental car place (the subsequent Internet cafe search yields the David Airport as our best bet), figure out the tide tables, and head out.

Downside.... we calculate that the tide will be high when we finally reach Punta Burica, so we decide we'll get as far as we can, nap in the car, and do the 30K beach drive around midnight.

You gotta love the plans we make!

Water taxi to Almirante is $4 per person and a lovely drive across the bay. The bus stop is a 15 minute walk away or our friendly bicycle guide informs us where we can get a cab.

We hike to the 'cab stand,' once again a dusty patch of road, unmarked except for the people hanging around and asking us where we're going. Everyone is helpful, hailing our cabs, loading our gear, and waving us off. We reach the 11:00 bus stop (across from the 'Store Melissa', looking like a cement structure in Baja), just as it's pulling away. The locals stop the bus as we pull up behind it, grab our gear and load us on. I am constantly amazed and touched by how wonderful and helpful everyone is. Of course, it freaks out my NYC "don't touch my stuff, dude" attitude and I'm always wondering if I'll be chasing a guy on a bike down a dusty road as he makes off with my backpack. Then I pick up my pack, which for some reason has most of our gear, and realize the poor guy would tip over before reaching the pedals!

The bus to David is air conditioned, but tiny - about 12 rows and the seats were made for munchkins. It's a pleasant ride up from the Caribbean through the mountains. We stop at several roadside rest areas for a stretch, snack and bathroom breaks. Lots of schoolchildren appear roadside (coming from where? the forest?) and get dropped off at equally remote locations.

This ride is more like the one I pictured, still without the livestock, but full of locals. No baggage area, so everyone's stuff is piled on the space behind the driver. Lots of locals, wonderful local rest stops that are the model of efficiency and cleanliness.

We arrive in David (dah-veeed) and start making phone calls to the rental car agents. A very nice man comes by and informs us that we just need to get a $2 cab ride to the airport and choose our rental car company there. The people are so nice and helpful - he even offers to help us to the cab and confirm we won't pay a cent more than $2 and is concerned that we get away safely.

Off to the airport, pick up a rental car - a really cool Nissan 4WD that is diesel and gets gas mileage for DAYS. It's a huge car and nice and clean and new. A few days with us will take care of the clean bits. National Car rental was wonderful. We found out later that we could have reserved on-line and gotten an even cheaper deal, so keep that in mind for the future!

Off to the supermarket to load up on goodies - wine, rum, limes, cheese, juice, fresh bread and more necessities..... and then driving down the Pan American Highway to the Costa Rican border where we'll turn left to Punta Burica.

The Pan American Highway is a 4 lane road, sometimes divided, that looks just like highways did when I was young. You remember - stop lights, gas stations, stores, homes... and military check points! OK, we didn't have military check points on Long Island, but you get the idea.

We drive to the border and turn left to Punta Burica. Except that's not on the sign posts. We find that this part of the trip has lots of military checks (passports and a resigned nod from the soldiers when we tell them where we're going) and few clear directions through Puerto Alejulles (SP?). We ask a cab driver directions to the petroleum plant (yup, you read that right - the refinery at the edge of the port, which is not much of a port, more like a pit stop!). Again, the Panamanian people come through - he offers to lead us out of town and to the road through the refinery!