After driving across the street to the Panamanian border, we parked the bikes and Jeff started the "border thing". He changed a sizeable amount of Costa Rican Colones to our old friend, US dollars. They should be easier to translate. Aside from Guatemala the border crossings have been very mellow thus far. Nothing like Jeff said they were 3 years ago. But then again he does have a tendency to embellish every now and then. We had to pay $6 per bike and $5 per person. Of course, there was a modest tip for the "guide" of $2. By 9:00 a.m. we were on the road to Panama City. The Pan American highway is beautifully paved in Panama and there is a huge construction project under-way to widen it to four lanes. The road was as nice as any American country highway. In addition to this American-like highway, were an astounding number of American like police, armed with American-like radar guns - all pointed in our direction. So, we carefully scanned the roads for policia as we tried to exceed the posted speed limit of 80 kph (50 mph). This was to be a long day - close to 330 miles and we knew that we needed to make good time. The road is pretty straight so we figured we'd probably make it all the way to PC.
Not far from the border we passed through a town called David. The contrast with the rest of Central America and Mexico was remarkable to me and that was just a small town in the rural part of Panama. It had sidewalks, curbs and street markings. Anyway, we continued down the road planning for a lunch stop around half way through the next city, Santiago. Seeing as we were passing through farm country, we had to make it to a town to find a restaurant. Santiago was a little smaller than we expected and before we had chosen a restaurant we were through the town. Although we were starving decided to continue on and realized that we were right back in farm country. Getting desperate, we stopped at the first thing we saw which was a restaurant called the Black Lion Grill. The name tells you all you needed to know. There is no such thing as a grill in Spanish. But, there was air conditioning and water on the table. We settled for the cheapest thing on the menu - sandwiches. Compared to home it wasn't expensive but for Central America, carissimo. $12 later we were headed back down the road. We passed through the beautiful rolling hills of Panama's agricultural heart. The miles passed slowly as we were weary from waking so early. As we got closer to PC, the number of cops increased unbelievably. The road was crawling with them. Now if you're up to date on these journals, you will recall that we haven't been pulled over yet. It wasn't long after lunch when a motorcycle cop waved us down from the side of the road. I really wasn't sure what happened since I knew we weren't exceeding the speed limit by very much. He asked to see our driver's licenses (we gave him our copies) and then didn't say much. After a very strange pause, Jeff inquired what had happened and he informed us that we had passed illegally on a double yellow line and had committed an 'infraction'. We constantly pass slow moving vehicles and I could not remember where we had last passed. Jeff immediately began to contest that we had passed in the proper area. Jeff and the cop went back and forth and Jeff told him that he could take him back to where the supposed infraction occurred and show him that there wasn't a double yellow line. For some reason Jeff's methodology seemed to work, he let us go with no ticket. Whew! We proceeded back down the road and resumed exceeding the speed limit and passing people like no tomorrow. I was certain that a ticket was in store for us. Lady Luck was on our side and soon we were in the outskirts of PC. We hit a toll road 5 - 10 miles from town and the velocity of the traffic doubled and for some reason, there were no cops. We crested the famous Bridge of the Americas and stopped at a nearby gas station for directions to the old town. The guys were too busy to respond and Jeff was sure he remembered so we kept going. We wove our way through the bustling, dilapidated streets and without a single wrong turn, were at our destination - Hotel Central. Just before nightfall. Outstanding Jeff! I really couldn't believe it.
Hotel Central was the swankiest hotel in Central America (of its time), built around 1870. The outside was adorned with balconies and framed with forest green shutters. I was psyched to see the inside. Jeff went and inquired about a room and we rolled the bikes into the lobby - said to have held the inaugural ball for the inception of the canal. We unloaded and hauled our stuff up to our park front room. I have to admit that I was rather disappointed. The room had 20 foot high ceilings and eight foot high shutters leading to our two balconies, but aside from that it was bare. You could just picture how it must of looked in the old days (which I guess is the idea behind staying there) and it seemed so sad to have let it completely run down. We were paying $11.55 per night and I am sure the price hasn't changed in over one hundred years. Anyway, we laid down to relax for awhile and then headed out to get some dinner.
Hotel Central is situated in Casco Viejo. PC basically has four different areas... Old Panama, Casco Viejo (Old Town), New Panama and the Canal Zone. Old Panama is the first site of the city which now only contains ruins of its former self, surrounded by poor barrios. After the original city had been sacked, it was reconstructed on a more defendable piece of land - hence Casco Viejo. This section has the most character by far. The brick streets are lined with Spanish colonial bulidings and interspersed with plazas filled with statues, shade trees and benches. Currently, there is a restoration project under way to refurbish these buildings. On the plaza that Hotel Central overlooks, there are two completely restored buildings and a restored church. That takes care of two sides. The third side contains two nearly complete restorations and then there's the Hotel Central and the building next to it, crumbling into disrepair. I can't wait to come back in 15 years and stay in the refurbished Hotel Central. It will be gorgeous. Right now, Casco Viejo contains the stark dichotomy of rich people living in the restored buildings and the poverty stricken living in the decrepit unrestored buildings and neighboring slums. The New Panama is like a New York skyline across the bay from Old Town. It is the only Central American city in which we have seen skyscrapers. Apparently most of them are half empty condominimums that charge exorbitant rents to mysterious tenants in an effort to launder drug money from Colombia, or so says our travel book. The Canal Zone which includes the town of Balboa is the former home of the US military families that were stationed here before the pullout. It looks like any American suburb except for all the iron bars over the doors and windows. The contrasts of the 4 separate areas certainly makes for a unique culture. So back to dinner... we headed out through Casco Viejo to the pedestrian mall which was lined with stall after stall of food and trinket vendors. Behind them stood the open doors of all the duty free stores, blasting their air conditioning out to steamy streets. We walked all around looking for a place we could sit down while we ate and finally settled on the Restaurant Coca-Cola. Our book mentions that it is the self-proclaimed oldest restaurant in PC. It was bustiling inside and it took awhile to order and get our food which came in heaping portions all for about $2.00 each. One interesting difference between the food in Panama versus the rest of Central America is that they use lentil beans instead of black beans. After dinner, we headed back for some beauty rest and to work on the Costa Rica journals.
The next morning we had to begin the process of figuring out how to send the bikes to South America. Our plan was to bypass Colombia and send them to Ecuador. We decided to head out to the section of town with all of the travel agencies and cruise offices in lieu of going to the airport, 30 kilometers away. After wandering around for about an hour without success, we decided that the airport might be better source of information. After a 45 minute drive through the clogged thoroughfares of old Panama leading to the airport, we inquired at the passenger airport whom informed us that there was a cargo airport another 7 kilometers down the road. We started at 10:00 and it was now 1:00 and Jeff was beginning to think we wouldn't be able to get the flight arranged before Christmas. However, at the cargo airport we were greeted by several English speaking employees of Copa Airlines, including the manager of the Tocumen Cargo Terminal, Jorge Arauz (phone 238-4290). We told Jorge our plan for flying to Ecuador. He and the counter persons at the passenger airport informed us that the previous day there had been a volcanic eruption and that the airport in Quito was closed indefinitely. All flights going to Quito had been delayed or canceled or rerouted to Ecuador's other major airport - Guayaquil. Then he asked the million dollar question, did we want to fly to Colombia? Hmmm... this had been the big question the whole trip - considering all of the recent guerilla activity and the warnings from the U.S. embassy. He told us that he has sent numerous other motorcycles to Colombia in recent weeks and months, (mostly Europeans, hardly any North Americans). Still unsure, we began to look into schedules and prices for Ecuador and Peru versus Colombia. It looked like it was to be about $350/bike for Guayaquil and no certainty regarding when the next flight was to leave. The guy at Garaj Airlines wasn't sure there would be a flight before Christmas. That left us with two sure options in Colombia - Bogota and Cali. I told Jeff that Cali would be ok with me but I wasn't interested in Bogata because it is situated in the mountains, where there is a high incidence of guerilla activity. He agreed. Jorge said they had a cargo flight going that night to Cali and that it would be about $150 per bike. Wow. Now we had to decide fast. We asked if he could check availability of passenger flights. It was Saturday and there was no space until Tuesday, the 22nd. The alternative was to wait until after Christmas or possibly after New Year's. We had to make a quick decision and decided to go for it. It was now about 2:30 and we had to go back to the hotel, pack the bikes and get back by 5:00 to prepare the bikes for the evening flight. We were going to send the bikes with the boxes on and wanted to pack them with as much heavy stuff as possible as the cargo per kilo price is much cheaper than the passenger cargo per kilo price. We took the newly finished toll road back to the hotel. It cut the commute time in half and the cost was a reasonable $1.65. Much cheaper than the Mexican toll roads. Within two hours, we were back at the airport. We had to drain the gas, deflate the tires, remove the windshields and mirrors and disconnect the battery. While Jeff finished off the dirty work I was talking with a couple Panamanian truck drivers who were split between having the Americans leave and having them stay. They were very proud of their country and wanted us to visit all the sites before we left for Colombia. I knew that once we sent the bikes we would probably just hang out in Panama City until we left. Maybe next time we'll get a chance to see the 'real Panama'. It was now time to weigh the bikes. Suzi weighed 181 kg (400 lbs) while TGH weighed 215 kg (475 lbs) for a combined weight of 396 kg. A lot more than we thought. We had 30 more lbs each back in the hotel room. Yikes, that meant it might be more expensive than we thought. Oh well, our fate was already sealed. We said goodbye to the bikes after watching them being loaded on a pallett. We went to pay and the combined price ended up being $286. $237.60 for the freight, $20 for $2,000 worth of insurance and the remainder going for taxes. Not bad at all. At 8:00, Jorge dropped us off at the passenger airport so we could catch a cab home. And so, we were going to Colombia.
Colombia. Just the name itself conjures up all sorts of mental pictures of guerilla insurrections, drug cartels and military troops. I have never seen another place create such divided opinions amongst people. Some people believe it is the most dangerous place on earth and to go there would be shear madness. Other people say that they can't think of another country in all of South America that has more friendly people and beautiful locales and to skip the country would be an incredible opportunity lost. How to reconcile the two? When it came to decision making time, my heart was screaming "go, go" and my head was screaming "don't do it!". Just thinking about riding the bikes through the country gave me a lump in my throat. When Jorge asked what we were going to do I mentally ran down the list of what I know about the country: The warring factions are basically broken into 4 separate groups - The military, the paramilitary, the guerillas and the drug cartels; The military is supported by the government and is attempting to keep the people in the big cities and lowlands safe. The paramilitary are supported by the wealthy landowners that don't believe that the military is capable of protecting their interests. The guerillas were originally a group of disenfranchised villagers who didn't think that their rights were being considered by the government. The current drug cartels are various groups that were basically held in check until the assassination of the leaders of the Medellin and Cali drug kingpins. Once the head honchos were wiped out, a group of smaller cartels have tried to fill the shoes of their more powerful predecessors; The drug cartels need to be able to transport their 'goods' from the fields and processing plants to their distribution centers and they pay the guerillas good money to do so. The guerillas then set up strongholds in the highlands of Colombia were they can more easily keep the military at bay. They fund their campaign, which has become less a struggle for the people of the highlands and more an economic way of life, through highway taxes and kidnappings. Probably their number one nemesis is the paramilitary which is ruthless in their pursuit of the guerillas. They have been known to kill anyone whom they suspect of helping the guerillas in any way. Men, women and children have all become victims of the paramilitary. Then there is the military who is a little less proactive in chasing down the guerillas and more concerned about maintaing law and order in government strongholds; Colombia has been at war with the guerillas for over 40 years. It has become a country that has learned to live with the everpresent spector of death; People who have fled Colombia have developed such a fear of the place that to talk to them you'd think that every man, woman and child is in imminent peril. People who have traveled there know otherwise and are always in awe of the country and its people; Since 1980 112 North Americans have been kidnapped and 14 of them have been killed. In the first 5 months of 1999 12 Americans have been kidnapped, doubling the total for all of 1998. It is a certainty that the situation in Colombia has worsened. By far Colombians are the number 1 target of the guerillas and far outpace non-Colombians in the kidnapping category; There have been recent peace talks between the Colombian government and the guerillas. Usually just prior to meeting at the bargaining table there is an increase in violence from both sides as they try to gain more leverage; The problem with the negotiations is that the government has got to try to convince the guerillas to give up a very lucrative profession just so they can join in on what the they think is a very myopic governmental process. Because the government doesn't have enough funds to pose any real threat to the guerillas, the peace process is far from effective; The President of Colombia recently visited with President Clinton in an attempt to procure funds to enable the government to provide sufficient force to convince the guerillas to give up their anti-social ways. The Democrats don't want to provide the aid unless the Republicans are for it. The Republicans don't want to provide the aid because their most powerful political tool is to lower taxes - not spend it in Colombia. This being an election year, both sides are afraid to make the first move, meanwhile Colombia languishes in a vicious cycle of violence. It seems to me that America has to share the cost of cleaning up the Colombian problem because we are the number one consumers of Colombian drugs. We're why the cartels are in business. We also paid to eradicate drug processing in Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia thus creating the problem in Colombia; All of these thoughts were spinning around in my head when I finally came back to reality..."So what's it gonna be? Are you going to Colombia or what?" was Jorge's query. "Yes!" My heart was first to respond because my head was still in shock from all the information it was trying to process. But in reality, how could we possibly skip Colombia. The reasons for going were too numerous to overlook. I have heard of numerous motorcyclists who have traveled through the country this year without mishap. If the war has been going on for 40 years, there must be some kind of protection in place for travelers who use a lot of caution. We were not going to travel into Guerilla strongholds. We had a standing offer to spend Christmas with a Colombian family in Tulua, an hour north of Cali. I personally dislike making a decision based on other peoples' perceptions. I'd much rather find out for myself firsthand. And finally, I've heard so many positive things about the country and it's people that to just skip it would not be in the true spirit of travel. I'm sure I'll be a nervous wreck the whole time but nobody ever said that traveling to South America via Oregon on motorcycles would be all fun and games. The thing about motorcycle travel is that you are exposed to all elements of society. At any given time, in any given country it is easily conceivable that you could become a victim of a violent crime. If we were afraid of taking risks we would have just stayed home. In the end it's courage that counts. Courage to face your fears, that is the true nature of travel. Also I hope that we have accumulated enough good Karma to get us to the Ecuadorian border in one piece. We're going to Colombia!
It cost us $20 to take a collectivo from the airport back to the Hotel Central. We were emotionally spent from the days activities and found a fabulous outdoor restaurant behind the Hotel in a beautiful restored square. We split a pitcher of sangria and an entree and tried to reflect on the days activities. The remainder of the night was spent listening to a live salsa band from a nearby restaurant from our balcony until midnight.
The next day was Sunday and we slept in before finally hitting the pavement for some tourist activities. First on the hit list was the Miraflores locks. We walked down Avenue Central until we reached the Plaza 5 de Mayo. From there the cost of the taxi to the Miraflores Locks was around $3. On the way the taxi driver told us what was to become of the now vacant military installations located in the former canal zone. They had all been earmarked for various uses ranging from Universities to Police installations. The Miraflores Locks are one of three locks that help raise the cargo ships up and over the Continental Divide (maximum elevation of 85 feet above sea level) and it also makes up for the difference in water levels between the two Oceans. The Atlantic is approximately 6 inches lower than the Pacific Ocean. The cost of using the canal is based on how much water is displaced. The most ever paid was by a large cargo ship in 1997 for a total of $177,000. The least ever paid was by an English chap back in 1936 who swam the entire length of canal. He weighed 138 lbs and stood 5 ft 8 inches, enough to displace .38 cents worth of water. Control of the canal will finally be turned over to the Panamanian government on December 31, 1999. The official ceremony occurred on December 14th so as not to interfere with millenium activities. Conspicuously absent from the ceremony were President Clinton, Vice-president Gore and Madeline Albright. From what I hear Jimmy Carter made it to the ceremonies. He was instrumental in bringing about the reversion of the canal way back in 1977. When I talked to Panamanians 3 years ago they were a little worried about potentially losing all the benefits that the Americans provided to Panamanian canal workers such as health care, legal assistance and wages that rival those back in the States. This time I didn't hear any such worries. The Panamanians seem eager to control their own destinies and if the pride of the truck drivers back at the cargo airport is any indication of the national resolve to do a good job, no one need worry about the Panama Canal. Oddly though, the Panamanian government has contracted a Hong Kong firm to manage the Canal. After catching the 10 minute movie and watching a couple large cargo freighters make their way through the locks, we caught the next bus to the American style suburbs of Balboa. After a quick bite to eat we set off in search of the Florida State University-Panama City campus. We walked through the now deserted homes that used to house the military personnel who lived off base. We finally found the smallish campus tucked almost directly under the Bridge of the Americas, which spans the canal. After a quick foto and a somewhat mumbled version of the FSU fight song we started the long march towards the Fort Amador and the islands of the causeway. Fort Amador is a prime piece of real estate and was recently sold by the Panamanian government for redevelopment. As we walked through we found the infrastucture was already in place and, thankfully, the military style homes and buildings were being torn down to be replaced by what I assume to be some swanky digs. Sadly, they had torn up the really cool golf course also. We continued on down the causeway towards the small Islands that are connected by the causeway. Many Panamanians were out and about for their Sunday afternoon strolls. We stopped at a couple restaurants further out for a couple beers then caught the next bus back into Casco Viejo. We stopped at a nearby cafeteria for large chicken and rice dinners for a total cost of $3.50. There are still plenty of cheap eats in Panama if you know where to look. All in all we must have walked 6 or 7 miles. We spent the rest of the evening updating the Costa Rica journals and deciding which pictures to include on the website. This is definitely the best way to maintain a website. We are in ownership of everything from the journals to which pictures to include. And best of all we are not subjected to the editorial whims of a 'Web Master'. I'm still far from understanding how Linda does it but when we check out the site at the internet cafes she is definitely doing a great job.
Monday morning we went off in search of a travel agency so we could buy our plane tickets. We decided to go to Avenida Argentina since there was a Spanish restaurant of good repute and numerous book stores. We still had to buy our South American guide book and maps. We found Viajes Mundi and quickly and painlessly purchased our one-way tickets to Cali for $183 each. We inquired about a hotel because we weren't scheduled to arrive in Cali until 9:00 pm. The travel agent recommended a place close to the airport called Hotel La Victoria in the town of La Palmira. We couldn't make reservations but she said that since not a lot of people were going to Colombia there should be plenty of rooms available. Not as soothing news as would normally be the case. We then went to the nearby bookstore only to find that the Lonely Planet guidebook for South America was going for $50 and the road maps were going for $18! Way too rich for my blood so we decided to look elsewhere. Next up was a sumptious lunch of Paella and wine at the Spanish restaurant. Perfect. Just as we were finishing up lunch the skies opened up and it started to rain really hard. It has been raining quite a bit in Panama and Venezuela lately. Very unusual considering that this was supposed to be the dry season. We decided to go to an internet cafe to try and convince them to let us use a telephone line to get e-mail. The first place we tried replied with a very skeptical "no", the next place we tried was the internet cafe called 'Stratos' just off the corner of Avenida Argentina and Via Espana. The owner was amazingly computer savvy. Not only did he let us use his line to connect, he was familiar with Handheld computers and IPass. He even told us which numbers gave the best connection. While Linda downloaded e-mail I searched the web for more information concerning current conditions in Colombia. Aside from the US State Department's usual warnings we were pleasantly surprised to find some travel websites of people who had recently traveled in Bogata and said it was a great place to visit. We also talked to a guy at the airport who has driven all through Colombia and was ranting and raving about the place. It was nice to hear a little good news in the face of all the bad stuff. After getting e-mail we went off in search of a cheaper alternative than the bookstore that charges exorbitant prices for travel books. We went into store after store with no luck. We were able to find a sticker with the Panamanian flag for our boxes though. After hours of shopping we decided to skip the book and maybe swap our Central American guidebooks for a South American book at the Quito Clubhouse of the South American Explorer's Club. That would mean that we would arrive in Cali naked and alone. Oh well, you can't have everything and in some cases you can't have anything. We walked back towards the Old Town until we reached the very cheesy but fun restaurant La Cascada situated on Balboa Ave. The menu was 16 pages long and the portions were astoundingly large. Not very good, but what they lacked in quality they certainly made up for in quantity. Linda and I shared an entree and we still couldn't finish it. After dinner the waitress brought us fish food to feed the hundreds of goldfish circling the mote running through the restaurant. If you're in Panama City you have to eat here at least once. We caught a cab to our Hotel and since tomorrow was our travel day we hit the hay early again. By now we had mentally already left Panama and all our thoughts were centered on what Colombia would be like.
After sleeping in again, we rolled out of bed and set off to explore Casco Viejo in earnest. The area truly is an architectural marvel. Sometimes reminding me of the French Quarter in New Orleans and other times reminding me of a New York City crack house. It was a visual feast to see a fully restored wonder sitting right next to a dilapidated wreck. We walked to the area around the French Embassy and had a very expensive, even by French restaurant standards, lunch of soup and salad. Afterwards we went back to the Hotel, packed and caught a taxi to the airport. When we got to the ticket counter there was a small problem with our tickets. Apparantly our reservations were for the next day and our tickets were not really valid. The guy at the counter said that he would give us a boarding pass anyway because not many people were travelling to Colombia so there would be plenty of room on the flight. I was starting to get that 'deja vu' feeling. We changed some travelers checks for dollars and passed through customs without so much as an inkling of a concern that we were leaving the country without our motorcycles. While waiting for the flight we met a couple Colombians who were attending university in Florida (Miami and Florida Atlantic) and were returning to Bogota for the holidays. They spoke perfect English and their first question to us was "So why do you have to go to Colombia?" With the emphasis on 'have to'. When we gave them the reason they seemed genuinely concerned for us. But after talking to them for a while they warmed up quite a bit and began to tell us of all the wonderful things Colombia has to offer. Apparantly, Cali is the Salsa capital of Latin America. We had a nice conversation up 'til the time we were ready to board our flight. For better or for worse we were on our way.