Recommended Sites (advertise with us)
- Los Cuatro Tulipanes is Matt's apartment rentals in the historic district of Casco Viejo
- Las Clementinas is Matt's recommended 6-room boutique hotel in Panama City, Panama
- The Canal House is Matt's favorite restored guesthouse in the historic district of Panama City, Panama
- Panama Vacation Rentals is Matt's go-to place to find rentals in Panama
Bars
It's rare when a bar has the ability to transport you to another place and time. Certain spots in New York City have managed this disguise masterfully: a show that goes far further than importing furniture and recreating food, instead entering the deep and genetic-like bowels of environmental cloning: an exercise in which is seamlessly put together in Casco Viejo, Panama via a bar called Havana.
The best place in the world to retire, the number one investment hotspot in the hemisphere, the top banking and shipping center of the Americas, blah blah blah. As partly a result of claims such as these, residents of Panama City may soon realize that it's OK to be great, but you never want to be the Best.
This place, from the outside, looks like a small, crummy cigar bar. It’s situated directly across from The Marriot which means inevitably prices will be doubled. But when you go in, you just might be pleasantly surprised if you like women.
 My first visit to Zanzibar took the form of a big countdown to pending sobriety. I arrived on the Thursday of Holy Week, two hours before the planned 48-hour alcohol ban in honor of the holiday. When I entered the bar through the swinging doors framed by large elephant tusks, I was met with a Moroccan hookah bar feel. Couches line two walls with tables and chairs in front like fluffy arms stretching out from the big screen TV in the corner where the baseball championship game was on mute. In the opposite corner was a decent-sized bar lined with African artifacts and an international selection of alcohol.
My first visit to Zanzibar took the form of a big countdown to pending sobriety. I arrived on the Thursday of Holy Week, two hours before the planned 48-hour alcohol ban in honor of the holiday. When I entered the bar through the swinging doors framed by large elephant tusks, I was met with a Moroccan hookah bar feel. Couches line two walls with tables and chairs in front like fluffy arms stretching out from the big screen TV in the corner where the baseball championship game was on mute. In the opposite corner was a decent-sized bar lined with African artifacts and an international selection of alcohol.




