Day 79 in the Big Brother House and Ricardo is in the Diary Room...
Big Brother: "Ricardo, this is Big Brother, if you continue to tease people at home about the weather being so hot, we will subject you and the other house mates to heavy rain. Is that understood?"
Ricardo: "You what? Bugger that, could you russell me up some more suncream? I'm really starting to bake here and I need to show everyone back home my awesome tan."
It seems the endless taunting of friends and family back home has caught up with me in Panama City and upon arrival the heavens open and stay open for the next week. Not an encouraging sign when I and the majority of the other travellers in my hostel are planning on taking yachts for 5 days from Northern Panama to Colombia. The incessant rain seems to be the first of many hints that our intended sailing plans are simply not going to happen and in a hostel full of housebound backpackers, the grapevine is gossiping at max speed.
First off there's the rumour that they've had to evacuate a few of the San Blas Islands. These are little islands off the Panamanian coast that the yachts stop off at and are supposed to be stunning. Secondly there's the rumour that they've closed the Panama Canal. This turns out to be true, and was the first time it's been closed in 21 years, when the US invaded. On top of this boats are being cancelled or redirected, rather stormy seas are forecast, tales of sea-sick ridden travellers and coked-up alcoholic captains are abound and unsurprisingly I'm starting to get slightly cold feet.
Thankfully not all of my time in Panama is spent fretting over weather forecasts and discussing flights and I do get out and about. Previously the only city I'd been to that was famous for having a canal was Basingstoke, so Panama City is faced with some stiff competition. It's by far the most developed city in Central America but the hostel is in the more deprived part of town (that is safe!). The influence of the canal is everywhere you look, from the wealth that has brought dozens of sky-scrappers, to the Chinese/Thai restaurants on every corner. Panama is a quite a mixing pot and I wonder what it would be like had the canal been built in Nicaragua which was apparently on the cards at one point (those crafty yanks!).
There are parks nearby and I'm keen to test out my David Attenborough skills and capture some wild life. It seems the only things I can get near to without running away are leaf cutter ants, I sussed out that they're the bailiffs of the forest, when you can't pay your mortgage, or you the rent on your tree, they systematically take your leaves apart and move it somewhere else. Apparently they do post up eviction notices, usually telling you, to leave immediately.
With a flight lined up (and cheaper than everyone else thanks to STA), I meet up with some Irishmen and an Auzzie and head out to the nightclubs of Calle Uruguay, which is apparently where it's at. After persuading the bouncer that he didn't actually need to charge us $20 a head entry (jedi mind tricks clearly still working) we got the rum out and showed the Panamanians how to dance. Despite getting out my revolutionary dance moves (the lasso, the meerkat and the dice all featured) the locals are not that impressed, clearly they're a bit behind the times!
With my name on the wanted-for-crimes-against-tasteful-dancing list I'm on the next flight out of Panama City, bound for the pirate ridden Caribbean city of Cartagena. Argggggh!
Photos in the usual place... http://www.flickr.com/photos/richsmith/sets/72157625648614840
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