Panaboom City

je termine donc ce voyage (quel mot grossier: cette quete, ce periple, ces aventures) en beaute: en francais, la langue de mon pays, de mon chez moi, de mes idees (mais toutefois pas celle des voyages), la langue de Beaudelaire... je ne me contenterai que de le nommer (et non de le citer ou encore pire, de l immiter, faute d opium). terminer en francais fait parti du processus de retour a la maison - vous voyez.

il y a qque chose d errone dans le nom de cette ville qu est "Panama City". "city", traduit en francais, equivaut a "ville", n est-ce pas ? Or, panama city n est pas une ville. c est une citee. c est une lignee de grattes-ciels a perte de vue, a faire rougir les quelques toures du "centre-ville" de montreal. ne vous demandez donc plus "ou sont les grues", elles sont ici (et a beijing... et a dubai). mais bien que panama citee impressionne par avec sa lignee d edifices a pertes de vue, aucune photo ne saurait saisir l esprit de cette mini-megapole (apres tout il n y a que 1.5 M d habitants). car son esprit est invisible. son esprit est sonore. son esprit est rythme, musique ou tout autres sons sachant attrapper votre attention. chaque commerce dispose de son boombox, crachant tous plus fort les uns que les autres salsa, merengue ou bachacha moderne ou retro. cela ne s arrete pas aux rues commercantes. le soir venu, la musique jailli des fenetres de chacun des appartements de la vielle ville.
Parlons en de la vielle ville. panama city, citee de contradictions, avec, d un cote, une vision des plus fututistiques qu une ville americaine pourrait aspirer a ressembler, et de l autre, casco viejo, site du patrimoine mondial depuis 1997, protege par l unesco. la vielle ville est splendide en soit, avec ses maisons colorees, son architecture colonial recemment revitalise, ses petites rues de pierres et ses parcs. mais casco viejo, ou san felipe, offre tout de panama city, car c est egalement d ici qu on apprecie la vue de la nouvelle ville.

mon hotel, dans ce quartier historique situe legerement en hauteur, au bout d une petite peninsule, offre un panorama parfait sur l ensemble de la ville. parlant d hotel, je me dois de parler de Luna's Castle. quoi que j ai toujours eprouve une relation amour-haine avec les societes artificielles remplies de backpackers que ce genre d hotel tend a creer, la recette, ici, a atteint la perfection. le matin, les crepes, sirop d erable, cafe ou the et bananes sont gratuites, oui, gratuites. les ordinateurs et l indispensable internet ? gratuit. les dortoirs petits et non surpeuples. la biere est toujours accessible dans un frigo non barre a clef, et le systeme de paiment fonctionne sur l honneur: on la paye qd bon nous semble. l hotel est situe dans un quartier de reve et offre une vue de reve. les employes ont concocte des guides pour visiter la ville efficacement (ou aller et surtout ou ne pas aller), les restos sympas, les clubs etc. de grandes pieces ouvertes et leurs hammacs invitent a la relaxation et au flanage. j ai succombe a mon premier episode de ce genre cet apres midi, alors que je revenais du canal de panama, une averse, la premiere pluie de mes yeux vus en 31 jours de voyage, m a force a la biere et au hammac, ou, a mon insu, j ai du m assoupir qques instants. j ai du dormir, car lorsque j ai ouvert les yeux, ma bouche etait ouverte (et je respire normalement par le nez durant la journee - vous voyez). bref, chapeau pour l hotel. ils ont meme omi de me charger une nuitee, ce qui m'est arrive pour une deuxieme fois dans ce type d auberge gere par des jeunes trop cool pour etre structure.

parlons du canal. il est gros. il est interressant - sur papier du moins et selon le musee que j ai visite - mais des circonstances personnelles ont fait en sorte que lorsque j y suis arrive, "bof" j ai fait. c est que chez moi, de la rive-sud, d ou je suis natif, nous avons non seulement une ecluse, mais nous avons, en plus, un pont-ecluse. bien plus ingenieux, a mon avis. selon le cite internet de la voie maritime, nos reseaux d ecluses constituent "le système de levage le plus spectaculaire au monde" ! Et vlan le canal de panama. faits anecdotiques au sujet du canal, le prix du passage fluctue en fonction du poid de l embarcation. la somme la plus imposante versee a ce titre est detenue par un certain bateau scandinave, 300 000 $us. la somme la plus infime ? 0.36 sous, paye pour les 150 livres de chaires et d os de Richard Halliburton pour avoir fait la traverse a la nage ( 9 jours d un ocean a l autre), en 1928.

de retour en ville, j ai visite un centre commercial enorme, non, gigantesque, dont les citadins sont si friands. le centre en question n avait rien a envier au carrefour laval - je suspect meme qu il etait plus grand ! on peut y marcher pendant plus d une heure sans voir les memes magasins tout en profitantde la clim :-)

a mon retour, petite pluie et... vous savez la suite.

bref retour en arriere, ou hier soir, louis et moi avons partage un dernier souper. ce joyeux compagnon de voyage m aura suivit pendant presque 2 semaines. il disait que j apportais de la chance... et c est vrai ! j ai pas voulu en parler (pour pas le jinxer), mais tout au long de mon voyage j ai ete chanceux: dans mes transferts de bus, dans mes rencontres avec les gens, dans les hotels etc.). remarquez que je pourrais encore rater mon transfert de vol demain ! (delais tres serre). donc pour notre souper, on s est paye une traite. un resto semi chic super style super gastronomie et sans menu. certes, on s informe sur les grandes lignes : etes vous vegetariens ? aimez vous les poissons ? les fruits de mer ? avez vous des allergies ? Mais c est tout. apres, les assiettes (pas moins de 12, oui douze) arrivent selon l humeur du chef. et ce fut delicieux. accompagne d un superbe vin blanc espagnol de la region de leon, ce fut, vraiment, un vrai regal :-p

j oublie pleins de trucs... mais c est tout le temps que j ai pour l instant.
demain matin, un taxi vient me chercher a 5am (moi et 2 autres jeunes, histoire de couper les frais en 3, le tout booker par le fantastique hotel). j arrive dans moins de 16 heures. et j ai hate de voir mon cafe, mes amis... et surtout... mp.
honey... i'm coming home !
;-)

Panama

we ended up our journey early evening in Boquette, a small but lovely town in the midst of a nice valley. the town is picturesque, calm and quiet, except for the smooth music from the 2 rivers that runs by each side of the village. that calming sound of running water only made the zzzzz time more pleasent, as the hostel was right next to the river. but before going to bed, we had a yummy authentic meal at a local comedor. the plate consisted in 2 simple things: one part was meat in a bbq-gravy style, the other part, more intriguing but deliscious, would have to be described as follow: a mixture between a queue-de-castor and a naan bread.

on our way back to the hostel, we bumped on Zanzibar, a sweet african-influence slash jazz bar that was playing a fine mix of world music. a couple of whiskey on the rock later, i had the pleasure to find my dorm bed overbooked, which gave me the key to an almost presidential suite all for myself.

Boquette is one of the best coffee growing area in panama, so the coffee tour wasn t optional for me. this tour was perhaps the most complete and informative tour so far. it was really inspiring and gave me a lot to think about and to bring back home.

as m-p knows (she suffer from the same illness as i do), sleeping in buses seems unavoidable for us. the ride from David to Bocas del Toro was the single exception. not once i could shut an eye. the views were scenic for the full 4 hour ride, probably the nicest, richest vegetation i had seen so far (one could argue that i was sleeping in prior bus rides :-).

on the next day, we finally got to bocas del toro after a nice 30 min boat ride. bocas del toro is a small archipelago stolen from heaven. it looks a lot like the carrbbeans, only better. virgin islands, prestine and unspoiled beaches, and of course one little party and exuberrant little sea-side city.

on our first day, we went straight for playa de las estrellas (stars), so called for, well, obviously, their numerous bright red and orange star fish that occupy the shallow and hot beaches. the beaches can be found on a remote area of the main island, a full hour away from the town on a bumpy road (nothing new here). the beaches were amazing. we litterally walked 25 meters into the sea and yet the water was not higher then our waste. the water was cristal clear or light blue, which made it very easy to observe the starfishes. yet again, very few tourists were here, so each of the fw of us had a big chunk of perfect white, fine sand. at night, we went for a drink (or two), but as i m officially turning old in this trip, i went to bed kind of early and let my young follower party. we did have a big and complete program for the next day.

i had booked a full tour of the archipelago, so i got up a bit earlier to make sure to benefit from the free coffee and pancakes offered at the hostel. it was a self service self madem, i was quite hungry and made two fat-tick pancake, alla american: with its unseparable but fake maple sirup.

the small motor boat started the tour with the dolphin bay. even if this wasn t my first experience with dolphins, they never stop to amaze me with their playfull, unscared attitude. clearly it wasnt the first time they were dealing with our kind of visitors, as they were showing off all over the place and jumping through the waves.

next stop was through some very shallow and clear waters. as much as i am not a fan of scuba diving, i must admit that this time around, it was fun. the corrals were colorfull, with vivid colors and bright fishes here and there. the water was perfectly refreshing and balancing out the heat from the sun (although my back will seriously pay for this). i surprised myself having fun scuba diving, touching the plants and trying to catch fishes. after we stopped to a small restaurant that was floating above the sea, we got a full 2 hours to play on the nicest beach i have stuck my feet it: boca del drago. the sand was perfectly white, just enough trees to take a nap, shallow and hot water for several meters, just enough waves to have fun, blue to turquoise water. this, is heaven. one last scuba diving session before heading to town let us discovered a different environment with cliffs and benches of fishes, hugh "oursins" and other marine marvels. by now, my back is seriously burned and hurting.

tomorrow, i m catching a small charter to panama city. this 45 minutes flight will save me 12 hours of boat and buses and will therefore give me all the time i need for this skyscrapers-city and its unfamous canal, before i finally fiond myself at home...

the bus was leaving monteverde at 6h30 am, which made it possible to reach San Jose early afternoon. i walked through the city, snaped som pics and droped my luggage at a cheerful youth hostel. i then took a local bus to a smaller town and from then on, another bus to an even smaller town. i was once more looking for a coffee farm, in San Rafael. although i couldn t find the farm itself, i did end up meeting the owner of the farm, which, for a first on my trip, happened to be a total old gerk. i went to a local coffee-coop and met a much more welcoming crew.

one advantage of being in a major city is that you finally get some variety, food-wise at least. san jose was by far the most city-like of the capital i had visited in central america. i could have been, actually, in any other south-u.s. major city. louis and i hited a fine indian restaurant that evening, which was quite refreshing (inspite of the spicyness !). we had a cool white wine (italian pinot griggio) to wash the meal down, and a surprisingly authentic masala chai tea.
it was only fair that we treated ourselves with some exotic food, as we were preparing for a full day of commuting to get into panama, early morning on the next day.

costa RICA

arriving in costa rica from el salvador, honduras and nicaragua is like a slap on the face. it is no coincidence that in the country name "costa rica", there is to be found the one word "rica".
the differences, in terms of richness, are obvious from the minute you cross the border. the road is paved. not only it is paved, but it also have those nice colored reflectors on the side of the road, for easier night drive. the deli, at the border, was now charging double what i could have on the nicaragua s side. the buses were not the caracterial colorful chicken buses but rather spacious, cushion seated pulman - and their price boosted accordingly. when we took off (louis decided to follow) i saw freshly cutted grass on each side of the road. even the cow seemed healthier, fatter. there were more cars on the streets. the differences are abundant, but in short, what was making it a bargain to travel so far was suddenly not so the case here in this rica costa. i had been warned by previous travelers litterally fleeing the country up to the rest of central america. it is, after all, even when warned, shocking to be paying more then at home for the same goods.

thus, i didn t lose much time and went straight for the adventure. in a single day (today), i had booked 3 excursions. the first one consisted in "eXtreme canopy" (zip-line). the company had just finished intalling the longest zip-line accross the the cloud-forest of Monteverde, which made it appealing. that one metal cable went on for more then a kilometer over this virgin jungle. it s the closest thing to spider man you can get. one surprise over the run: the tour included a tarzan jump, which, i had to admit, was more scary then i d thought. up there, the guy told me to count untill "4". at "2" i had a kick in the butt and off i went "aaaaaa-ia-ia-ia" little tarzan did.
the region has the perfect climate for coffee, so i booked a comprehensive coffee tour with a local coop of small farmers. it was nice and instructive.
late after noon, i escalated a hughe tree, over about 25 meters. this weird natural phenomenon, in short, makes the trunk of the tree empty, making it possible to climb it from inside the trunk all the way to the top. i watch the sunset from up there and my day was off (main pic).

expectations & eggspectations.

when you hear too much good about something - a movie, a restaurant, a touristic landmark - chances are that bringing high those expectations will only let you down, disappointed.
isla ometepe has always been on top of the to-do list in nicaragua as far as tourism goes back in this turbulent slash passionate political country. hence my suspicion of finding a spoiled paradise. au contraire. the island is anormally quiet. the picture on the right was taken from finca magdalena, were i crashed for 2 nights. the finca, at the foot of one of the 2 volcanoes that have created the island, serve mainly as an organic coffee farm but has also dorms and a small restaurant-like place where one* can enjoy some grilled fish, a fresh juice and a beer while watching the opposite twin volcano. to get there in the first place was an adventure in itself. it implies going through the roughest dirt road ever, making it even harder to believe that this island has anything to do with tourism. it s then walking uphill for some time untill you reach the farm.

as the farm was at the bottom of a volcano, it seemed futile to try not to go up it s crater. a small group ( 4 of us, maud, molly and louis) went up for it. what was believed as to be a walk in the parc quickly turned out to be a stiff, narrow, rocky little path. and as we gained in altitude, the ground became more and more humid and then clearly wet. soon, we had red-clay mud up to the ankles. and as we kept moving up in a hike that never seemed to end (it took a good 6h30 all together) what was then steep became closer to rock climbing. the heights brang wind. maud was starting to feel week (my lower legs still hurts 2 days after). we new, after 3h30 minutes up-hill, that we were getting coser to our objective only when, at the very top, we started going downhill. that meant that we were now inside the crater, the fact that there was no more wind confirmed this. out of the thick green-jungle-cloud-forest-like came an oasis: a little beach with the blue-green crater lake. we ate our sandwiches, we took it easy, enjoying the sun, little bath. we had the crater lake for ourselves and i really wondered, at that precise moment, if nicaragua had any tourism at all. after all, we were, the 4 of us, alone in what is suppose to be nic first attraction.

mini-van, boat, taxi, chicken-bus and a pullman. these are what is needed in order to get out from omatepe and into costa rica. before i start a new post for costa rica, i d have to say at least a word about what has now been the strangest cross-border i have been through so far. priorly, borders have been shared between guatemala, el salvador and nicaragua in good faith and in common sense, making the crossing efficient, practical, easy and fast.
now why the border between nicaragua and costa rica is seperated by a full one kilometer corridor, a no-mans-land kinda experience, is beyond understanding. people are walking frenetically in all directions. you need a first stamp. you need to pay to leave the local community. another desk, somewehere, elsewhere, needed to pay out of nicaragua. then walking and walking. people have luggages over their heads, as if they would be fleeing some sort of heavy warzone. then you get into costa rica and you need to find where about to get their stamp in your already much shaken passport. i m telling ya, this, in itself, was something of an experience out of the ordinary.

N.B.: as a big breakfast fan, those eggs, rice, bean and cheeze that we get pretty much every morning have never been dispointing. sometimes it s just nice to know what to eggspect.

* "one" would be me.

Nicaragua, part 1

From tegucigalpa, honduras, i had baught a direct ticket to managua, nicaragua. plans are as good as long as they can be bent. truth is, i did end up in managua, five days later. what happen between then is the fruit of spontaneity and urges for adventure. in the bus, i open my guidebook. it might be gods act, the page open to a specific page, mentioning a special activity: ash'surfing on a volcano. turned out this was close to Leon, a revolutionary city, where, 30 years ago, a poet, disguised in a vulguar waiter, killed a dictator that was well installed for some 40 years. that was the start of a long and bloody revolution for nicaragua. Leon, therefore, was halfway through where i was suppose to get out. but there i went. and ash-surfing i did. the surf take place on Cerro Negro, one of the most active volano in nicaragua. uppon the seismic activity and it s regular erruption -every 8 years- cerro negro will errupt again this very year. this only adds to the thrill of this extreme sport. extreme because a) we have no protection. b) we take uncontrollable speed along the slope c) they say 'ash' but it's rather 'little sharpy edgy black rocks' and finally because d) 3 people out of our group of 8 ended up bleeding. extreme sport, in this case, might also be a synonimous for 'idiot', 'irresponsable' or, more plainly, 'stupid'. yet it was thrilling. yet it was challenging. yet it was fun. yet, if i'd be a robot and calculate all the pronostic of what to be done in order to maximize my health, i'd still probably be in my room, in montreal - and i couldn t get out of it, for maximized health concern. i'm no robot and i intend to live fully, with all the contradictions that make us what we are: humans.

the hotel were i crashed for 2 nights, in leon, was named lazybones. lazybones, as much as i hate to admit that i did love it, is a backpackers paradise. there are hammocks all over, free internet, free coffee and tea, a nice pool, the vibe is cool and relax and so are the people droping by. on my first evening, i got cought in a restaurant where the special of the day was rose-beef with mash potatoes. i simply couldn t resist to this hommy meal and it was so yummy indeed. inside the restaurant, i noticed a hockey jersey on the wall, only to learn later that the place was owned by a canadian. on my second night, i stopped, with the ash-surfing gang, to a local comedor. the place consist of a tiny room, which is open on the chef s living room. basically, we're sitting in someone's house, and while the big lady is serving us, we can enjoy the baseball game - national sport here- along with her husband which is sitting on the sofa, by the tv. talking baseball, nicaraguans refer to 'el presidente' as to Dennis Martínez, the first Nicaraguan baseball player to play in Major League Baseball, with Montreal' Expo !

on the next, i took off for estelli, the main coffee region in the country. i was sort of lucky, as one of the brother of the farm passed by the coop where i was heading to get more info. he drove me to the family's house, where i got to spend the night. i was super well fed with excellent local homa made food. on the next morning, we visited the premisses of this fantastic organic coffee farm with senor canales and his older son, milton. we went back to the house only to eat a gigantic traditional breakfast with rice and beans, eggs, cheese, orange juice, and, is it necessary to mention it, coffee. i then bus-ed around untill matagalpa, another major coffee region where the museum of coffee stand - nothing less then a joke - a few pictures here and there, some documentation, that s it, really. still i managed to visit a coop nearby and chat with them about what is known as 'fair trade' coffee. i got really late in granada, nicaragua's first colonial city, where a comfy dorm bed was waiting for me in a replica hostel of lazybones, hospedaje oasis. i woke up early to stroll around and soke in the atmosphere of this vibrant and colorful city. the city is pleasant, well maintained, the architecture is beautyful, the markets are full and loud, the parque central and its cathedral, majestic.

when the mayan civilization was crumbling apart in mexico, a prophecy came to the hears of the most wise and sacred man. the prophecy mentioned that the mayans would have to flee south from mexico, in search of a perfect land, a land made with 2 volcanoes that would be surrounded by wather. this land is today known as isla ometepql. straight out from a fairy tale, this island could have been drawn from any little 4 year old princess: a big lake, with, at its center, 2 volcanoes that connect through a thin layer of earth. this, is where i am. after a smooth 3 hours boat ride from granada, i am officially in heaven, where there is nothing to do but relax, hike, horseride around and beach buming. an excursion is planed for tomorrow.

you gotta fight. for your right. to...

now i know that i m a gringo. and that for this same reason, i m suppose to have loads of money. and suppose this is true. would that mean that i would have to pay more then the double of what is due ? would that mean that i should get rape by every taxi in town ? would that mean that i d bend uppon stupid rules elaborate tu suck up more from gringo s pocket ? hell no. whatever the taxi says you fight and don t let go untill the final price has been divided by 2. on a boat to a fantazy island, they tried to make me pay extra for a hand luggage. good luck with that. in my guide book, it says that my room is 3 bucks. not for, not five, not six, 3 damn bucks. i ended, after much debate over which yesr my book was published - he argued it was 2 years ago, and he was right - paying 4 bucks, BUT, i ve manage to to pull in a full hour of internet - worth one dollar - of which i am planning to use fully and wisely to WARN future gringos to fight for your right ! we might be gringos, but we re no less dumbsuckers, entiendes ?