A bus trip to Panama
Monday, 2. June 2008, 07:55:42
While we waited at Colon for our transit through the “Big Ditch” we (Ngaire, Lloyd, James and I) took the bus to Panama city for the day. At the bus depot was an enormous shopping mall and before we knew it was time to make the two hour ride back. An enjoyable day outing like a bit of window shopping.
A couple of days later while up the Chagras River we set off extra early to repeat the trip. (A repaired camera needed collecting.) This time James elected to give the trip a miss and dinghies us to the fisherman’s dock at the top of the river. Walked up the thickly forested track to the main road then waited ages for a bus and catch one. Going left, unsure how this will get us to Colon across the locks and harbour.
The bus is jam packed not an inch to spare. This is one of the ex USA school busses now privately owned and graphically spray painted up using as many colours as possible. The cruisers refer to these as the “chicken bus”. All the lights on the dashboard are on, brake, seatbelt, oil, engine check, which is surprising as all the wires are hanging loosely out underneath. So dashboard lights on this bus work whether they should be relied on is probably another matter.
We make a sharp right into the high security area of the locks and I think we have hopped on the locks workforce bus. But we turn again with the tyres screeching against the concrete edges of the ramp and cross the lowest lock by way of a BBQ grid bridge.
In Colon we change busses for the air conditioned express for Panama about 60 miles away. We grind to a halt half way there because of strike action. Apparently the locals will strike for anything causing huge delays. We arrive in Panama in time to have a bite for lunch and to get the next bus back.
We have noted that we can hop off earlier than Colon at a supermarket complex and take a taxi for a shorter distance across the locks. Pop into the supermarket and stock up. By the time we arrive at the track we find the Nature Reserve gate across the track locked. It is now pitch dark and we have bags of shopping to carry down to the little wooden dock.
The past few nights we have been up and down the river in the dinghy with paddles and a torch trying to see the reflected red eyes of the crocs but have not seen any.
Now with the sound of the howler monkeys in the 50 meter high trees that close up overhead, things that go rustling in the undergrowth, twigs breaking on either side of the track and the glow of eyes all around we find ourselves up the track without a torch but with bags of heavy shopping.
Something follows us. We have no inclination to stop and think about what is behind us as we are way too concerned about the eyes around us. One hovers in front then circles around to the side. Another sort of scales a tree but in a very flighty way and I realise the glows must be fireflies. Whew! The thing behind us meows. Hopefully it is just a wild cat.
Make it down to the dock as James who has been radioed arrives with the dinghy.
The Camera was not ready last time and now our new one is playing up so we make another trip. This time Lloyd joins James in declining yet another shopping trip and Ngaire and I are cautioned by the men not to be late back.
We get both cameras sorted chop-chop faff around and are back at the bus depot in plenty of time. The woman officer at the gate tells us “no bus to Colon” We can’t believe it. What, when? She says “Maybe in an hour”. Outside the gate is a local bus with destination “Colon”. We decide to wait. A couple of minutes pass and we think maybe we should take the chicken bus. We try and get though the gate but the woman says “no” “no bus to Colon”. We point at the one right there and Ngaire says “this one goes to Colon, this chi…bus, we’ll take this one”. The officers eyes grow large and her eyebrows nearly go over the top of her head before she allows us through. We board and take two of the last few seats.
Look for the parcel shelf but there is none. No problem. My backpack will have to rest on my feet and the stack of hot pizzas for supper will have to rest on my lap. Ngaire a few rows back will have to do the same with her backpack and at least for her the box of donuts are only warm not hot. It is only a matter of seconds before the lack of air-con hits and I glance round. In the split second eye contact with Ngaire we communicate that we have made a big mistake and need to get off this bus. Chancing the track in the dark will be a better option. The inspector smiles as she allows us back in the gate.
Then at the taxi rank....Dracula awaited........to be continued.
A couple of days later while up the Chagras River we set off extra early to repeat the trip. (A repaired camera needed collecting.) This time James elected to give the trip a miss and dinghies us to the fisherman’s dock at the top of the river. Walked up the thickly forested track to the main road then waited ages for a bus and catch one. Going left, unsure how this will get us to Colon across the locks and harbour.
The bus is jam packed not an inch to spare. This is one of the ex USA school busses now privately owned and graphically spray painted up using as many colours as possible. The cruisers refer to these as the “chicken bus”. All the lights on the dashboard are on, brake, seatbelt, oil, engine check, which is surprising as all the wires are hanging loosely out underneath. So dashboard lights on this bus work whether they should be relied on is probably another matter.
We make a sharp right into the high security area of the locks and I think we have hopped on the locks workforce bus. But we turn again with the tyres screeching against the concrete edges of the ramp and cross the lowest lock by way of a BBQ grid bridge.
In Colon we change busses for the air conditioned express for Panama about 60 miles away. We grind to a halt half way there because of strike action. Apparently the locals will strike for anything causing huge delays. We arrive in Panama in time to have a bite for lunch and to get the next bus back.
We have noted that we can hop off earlier than Colon at a supermarket complex and take a taxi for a shorter distance across the locks. Pop into the supermarket and stock up. By the time we arrive at the track we find the Nature Reserve gate across the track locked. It is now pitch dark and we have bags of shopping to carry down to the little wooden dock.
The past few nights we have been up and down the river in the dinghy with paddles and a torch trying to see the reflected red eyes of the crocs but have not seen any.
Now with the sound of the howler monkeys in the 50 meter high trees that close up overhead, things that go rustling in the undergrowth, twigs breaking on either side of the track and the glow of eyes all around we find ourselves up the track without a torch but with bags of heavy shopping.
Something follows us. We have no inclination to stop and think about what is behind us as we are way too concerned about the eyes around us. One hovers in front then circles around to the side. Another sort of scales a tree but in a very flighty way and I realise the glows must be fireflies. Whew! The thing behind us meows. Hopefully it is just a wild cat.
Make it down to the dock as James who has been radioed arrives with the dinghy.
The Camera was not ready last time and now our new one is playing up so we make another trip. This time Lloyd joins James in declining yet another shopping trip and Ngaire and I are cautioned by the men not to be late back.
We get both cameras sorted chop-chop faff around and are back at the bus depot in plenty of time. The woman officer at the gate tells us “no bus to Colon” We can’t believe it. What, when? She says “Maybe in an hour”. Outside the gate is a local bus with destination “Colon”. We decide to wait. A couple of minutes pass and we think maybe we should take the chicken bus. We try and get though the gate but the woman says “no” “no bus to Colon”. We point at the one right there and Ngaire says “this one goes to Colon, this chi…bus, we’ll take this one”. The officers eyes grow large and her eyebrows nearly go over the top of her head before she allows us through. We board and take two of the last few seats.
Look for the parcel shelf but there is none. No problem. My backpack will have to rest on my feet and the stack of hot pizzas for supper will have to rest on my lap. Ngaire a few rows back will have to do the same with her backpack and at least for her the box of donuts are only warm not hot. It is only a matter of seconds before the lack of air-con hits and I glance round. In the split second eye contact with Ngaire we communicate that we have made a big mistake and need to get off this bus. Chancing the track in the dark will be a better option. The inspector smiles as she allows us back in the gate.
Then at the taxi rank....Dracula awaited........to be continued.
WIDGETIZE
David # 3. June 2008, 23:52