As we passed into Veraguas, I noticed there was a ton of deforestation because of all of the cattle ranches. The mountains have all been harvested of their old growth forests. In my observation Panama has more of a deforestation problem than Costa Rica. Parts of Veraguas remind me more of the hills of Tennessee and less of the tropics. Some of these farms were so big I didn't see any structures on them just lots of land and cattle. As we started to move into Chiriqui province the Indian ancestry starts to become more apparent in the people.

Later that night it started storming really bad. It looked like hell was brewing outside my window. It was pouring rain and as we passed over the swollen rivers below I could see the reflection of the lightning over the water. Soon I could see the lights of David in the distance. David is really small and doesn´t seem like a city of 90,000. Getting out of the bus is a feeding frenzy of taxi drivers who all want your business. They will ignore the Panamanians and go straight for gringo gold. I hate that. I hopped in a cab and set off for the Pension Clark Hotel. I found out the next morning that it's just around the corner. It's a little house, but attached to it they have nice rooms primarily for backpackers. When I entered my new room I found two women named Justine and Isabelle. Justine, the petite blonde was brushing her teeth and the Isabelle was drawing. As soon as they spoke a few words I knew they were French Canadians (my people). They had the most amazing notebook containing scraps and journal entries from their travels. They will be traveling around Central America for 8 months. Hope they don't get sick of each other.

I was hungry from my travels so I left the friendly confines. As I walked through the streets of David at about 9 o'clock at night there all of these stray, mangy looking dogs that cruised around looking for scraps. I remember how dogs who roam in packs can be dangerous, so I clenched my fist and watched them very closely.

In the morning I walked over to the bus station which is a buzz with all types of activity. There were lots of Ngobe Bugle women with their colorful dresses, lotto ticket vendors, and hustlers of every kind hawking their wears. I found a little bus going to Frontera, a town on the Costa Rican border. Frontera is nutso! It's very haphazard with semi trucks parked everywhere and dirty upaved streets. The free for all atmosphere and dangerous energy in the air was probably how the wildwest was. Upon arrival at Frontera you first go to the Panamanian customs house where you get your stamp out of the country. With out signage it's super confusing. They have these kids that linger around the customs building who are on the look out for people who seem confused. They actually fight for your business! Of course they picked up on my confusion immediately and a guy came over and helped me through the process. I gave him a dollar because I didn't know what the hell I was doing.

Since this is a website devoted to Panama, I won't divulge my bus experiences in Costa Rica, but I will say that I like traveling by bus in Panama much better. Upon arriving from Costa Rica, I got lost again in process. One kid saw me walk into the wrong building and I was toast- he knew I was lost- so he came up to me. He walked with me to the Panamanian customs house where the agent told me I was supposed to have a return ticket out of Panama. I didn't have $25 dollars on me for a Tica Bus ticket, but the kid told me he knew where an ATM was. As little and unintimidating as he was, I was glad to have a local walking me around town at this hour. Instead of paying for a Tica Bus ticket which was $25, the kid said that I could pay the customs agent $20 which would be split two ways and get a stamp. He obviously was instructed by these agents to mention this and probably got a little kick back every week or something.

I gave the kid a buck and some change. His services were worth every penny. I waited for the David bus to roll into to town. It was the party bus man. They played every thing from Damian Marley's, “Welcome to Jamrock” to country music. I finally made it back to David where I stayed in a hotel right above the bus station. I don't understand why I see students walking all around the bus station at hours when they should be in school. When I got on the bus to Panama, there was a fight about who had the window seat a couple aisles in front of me between an old lady and a girl. It was very HILARIOUS. I also sat across the aisle from three hot backpackers in Santiago when we stopped for lunch but couldn't find anything to say. I guess I just could have just said, "where are you from?"

The ride from David to Panama City was another bus ride from hell because they showed no movies and it made frequent and long stops. In addition to this, it was my 7th bus in 6 days and I was flat out tired of buses. I got a massage with some of the money I saved and it was worth it! I was also sick of babies crying and people answering their phones and going, halo...halo...haalo.....halo, every hour. Words of wisdom: There are more thieves on buses than you think-so never let your bag out of your site. Also, bring your turismo card when you go traveling around in the country.

Panama Travel Blogs

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