Jan 24^th

05.30 on a Sunday morning, I dragged myself out of bed, showered and grabbed my bags, locked up the boat and headed for the jetty to wait for the water taxi.

I had booked the water taxi to collect me at 06.00 to take me to Almirante for the princely sum of $5.

Sure enough, bang on 6am the taxi arrived. Ron and Dorothy from Memory Rose, had decided to travel to David too, so the 3 of us boarded to boat.

It was still dark and the air and the water were calm and quiet. I found it peaceful even though we were zipping along at approximately 40miles an hour. Dorothy confessed she was not comfortable at that speed in the dark. This was partly due to the accident that had happened on New Years day, when a taxi and a kayakoo had collided killing 4 people. The problem is that many of the little kayakoo’s don’t have any lights and the water taxis fly along, bow in the air, making it difficult for the driver to see where he is going.

This water taxi, however had the driver seated in the front so he could see everything, so I was not concerned, had it have been one of the other taxis, I think I would have shared Dorothy’s concerns.

In no time at all we were stepping ashore in Almirante, a ‘collectivo’ was waiting outside and we headed off to the bus terminal. These collectivo’s are great, they only cost $1 and are basically a minivan that drives round picking people up ad hoc.

By 06.40 we were at the bus station, then straight on board a nice, clean and more importantly, empty chicken bus. I say more importantly because I have heard of many people having most unpleasant journey’s because the bus, which originates in Changuinola, was already full and so they had to stand for most of the 4 hour journey.

At 06.45 we pulled out of the station bound for David (pronounced Daveed) , 4 hours away. The scenery was very lush and mountainous. At one point we had climbed so high we were passing through cloud forests, with the clouds hanging around us, obscuring the view. Then suddenly you would break through and there would be bright blue sky and sunshine.

The road was undergoing extensive repairs, but I was surprised to see them working on a Sunday.

We also passed a huge hydro-electric dam. I couldn’t help wondering how many families had been relocated to make way for it??

I have to say that the Panamanian bus drivers are nothing like the Guatemalan (thank god) they are steady and it made the trip so much more comfortable.

I got off the bus at David, having paid my $7 fare, walked through the station and immediately boarded my connecting bus to Boquete. It never ceases to amaze me how efficiently one can travel around less developed countries than one can around England. I remember when I would be travelling from Hull to London and end up stuck in Doncaster because the connecting train had been cancelled.

They could learn a thing or two from the central American countries (not to mention the price difference!!!!)

Anyway, for $1.45 I arrived safely in Boquete.

 It is in a beautiful, lush valley, surrounded by mountains and the Bara Volcano.

 The climate is perfect for plants and the town is called the Garden Valley. Beautiful red and purple bouganvillia bloom in profusion, Red Tulip trees stand out against the blue skies.

There is obviously a lot of pride in the town as not only are the gardens beautiful, but they also have wrought iron holders outside the homes for their rubbish.

Which is very different to most of the places I saw on the way up from Bocas, with the rubbish just thrown in heaps on the streets.

I was booked into the Cabanas Momentum, which as luck would have it, was actually only a 10 min walk from the orphanage I would be volunteering in.

Ken, the owner (who, by the way, bore a strong resemblance to Leslie Neilsen…..of Naked Gun fame) greeted me and showed me to my cabana.

 For $75 a night I have a completely self contained cabana that overlooks the volcano (though with the cloud cover you couldn’t see it, but Ken assures me I will see it in the morning).

It is set in lovely grounds and there is a pool, gym and jogging track, so I may actually partake of some exercise???

I decided to check out the Paradise Gardens, which is the other place I am volunteering. So I walked up to the main road, hopped on a bus and 50c later was back in the centre of Boquete. I was going to take a collective to the gardens, so I asked the first guy, who sent me off to another, who then said I needed to be on the Volcanito bus.

The driver of the volcanito bus, it transpired, didn’t have a clue where the garden was (this I found out about 40 mins later and having been driven who knows where). So I stayed on until he reached his destination, then he promptly told me I needed to get on another bus, so he rushed me over to the bus, the driver confirming this was the right bus….yes you guessed it, another 30mins later I was back where the other driver had dropped me.

I’d had enough for one day, so stopped at a lovely little bistro called Boquete Bistro for something to eat (as I had only had 3 snicker doodles since 5.30am). From the outside it didn’t look up to much, but inside was lovely. So I sipped my orange juice and watched the street scene, before trying to find my way back to Boquete (did I mention I didn’t have a clue where I was??)

There is a large population of Ngobe (the indigenous Indians) in this area. The men are all very smartly dressed, usually in slacks and shirts, but the women….hmm how can I put this?

Well, their dresses must have been designed by some missionaries or other ( I have since been informed they would probably have been Baptist), because I never seen a less flattering dress.

Even a nun’s habit is more flattering. And what is worse (well for me anyway) is that they wear this style all their lives. It’s just a shapeless long dress, with short sleeves and high neckline. They don’t worry about size here, because no one can tell what size you are. There is no wonder there are so many children, because when the man sees the woman underneath the dress it must be such a pleasant surprise…..well need I say more??

Unfortunately, mainly through lack of education, the girls seem little more than baby making machines. One girl on the bus, can’t have been more than 19 and she had 4 children, the eldest was about 6!

They live in poor conditions and it seems a very hard life. Now, the Kuna are similar, but at least they are living in paradise, with its abundant fish and coconuts.

Tomorrow I am volunteering at the orphanage. Unfortunately I didn’t manage to get

the cookies baked, but  I brought with me a large bag clothes which no longer fit me

as I was told they can always use clothes. It was quite a struggle getting them here,

but it is a win-win situation. The children will get new clothes and I will free up some

much needed space on the boat.