Rain Dogs and Change Burgers

see all photos »

The air in Bocas is thick with Caribbean humidity, and when the sun is out, the heat is stifling.  The stray dogs that wander perpetually through the town take respite under benches, under tress and in the occasional establishment into which they wander and plop down in a cool corner unnoticed.  The afternoon rains that unfortunately don´t cool the town but rather just add to the humidity, have the same effects on the dogs´locales, however there are a few of the mutts that seem to enjoy the shower on their matted fur and stand in the middle of Bocas´one paved road to soak it in.  It is these dogs, the rain dogs, as Jon has named them, that I like to watch, and to study their every detail with the gross fascination that so often captures human attention.  The rain dogs, like other social outcasts, have a certain sadness to them, and attract a natural sympathy extended to those less fortunate.  But that´s why I like the rain dogs, because despite their matted, oily fur, and their calloused wounds, they take pleasure in the rains.

see all photos »

Bocas, aside from the rain dogs that often go unnoticed, is one of those places deemed perfect by stereotypical college crowds and surfers for that "spring break" lifestyle.  A tourist town in the most extreme way, Bocas thrives on the mid-twenties crowd that don their bikinis and spend the day in the sun to be sufficiently tan for the night´s parties.  Most hostels house and bar, and unlike the sleepy town of Boquete, Bocas is a stay-up-all-night-I´m-so-hungover-the-next-morning type place.

see all photos »

Don´t get me wrong though, our time in Bocas has been wonderful.  We´ve done (started, actually, not finishing) more crosswords and read more pages.  If it´s not raining, the head and humidity are usually sweltering enough to make any excursion longer than 30 minutes a sweaty, exhausting venture, so after short trips, we´re usually back at the hostel, lazing about one of the porches.

Jon and I had a couple of nice excursions here.  One day, we rented a couple of old cruiser bikes and took a sweltering hot yet beautiful ride 10 miles across the island to the beach.  The ride was up and down, very hilly, but gorgeous jungle territory.  Once we arrived at our destination, the beach of Bocas del Drago, we parked our towels down, read and played in the crystal clear waters.  Aside from a few sore spots from the bike seats or where sunscreen was missed, we had a wonderful day.

see all photos »

We also took a water taxi (which is just one of many guys with boats who stand in the street bargaining for your fare to take you to one of the many islands in the Bocas archipelago) to the neighboring Isla Bastimentos, and wandered around the drastically different yet similarly hot and muggy town.  It´s much less tourist infested, and has held onto its rustic Caribbean charm much more than the fraternity-soaked Bocas.

We also decided to "splurge" on our $30 per day budget by going for a snorkeling tour.  Piled on a boat with a number of tourists from all over the world, we spent the day at two different snorkeling spots, seeing the most beautiful coral colors and an amazing array of tropical fish.  The iridescent blues and purples of the fish among the oranges, yellows and fuscias of the coral made for a fascinating experience, even for someone who dislikes the water as much as I do.  We also got to spend a few hours at Red Frog Beach, which, although being a beautiful beach, is rampant with sand fleas, so we spent our two hours playing in the ocean.  We both decided it was a totally worthwhile splurge.

see all photos »

The food in Bocas, at restraunts, anyway, is much more expensive than the other places we have been in Panama, which means we have been cooking our own meals quite often.  The street food carts cater the late night drunken wanderers, so although they usually don´t open until after 9, we´ve tried a few of the island delicacies.

Last Saturday night, we spent the evening checking out the "Bocas" scene, bar hopping from various place to place until we´d had our fill of the rowdy 20-something crowd.  As we made our way back to the hostel, we noticed a cart we´d seen numerous times, only a block from where we´re staying, had opened its shutters in the late night hours.

Acknowledged in curt Caribbean Spanish by two women who obviously eat much of the fried food they serve, we ask for the "Caribbean Burger" which is so proudly painted on the outside of the cart in grammatically incorrect English.  Sifting through our pockets for a combination of Panamanian Balboas and American quarters, Jon and I, along with our Australian friend Kieran, rustle up enough change for a burger.

Wow.  That´s all I can say.  Despite the burger´s small presence on the dwarfingly large bun, it was the best burger to cross my palate in some time.  Granted, I am by no means a burger connoisseur.  But I do know a good when when it comes my way.  Although cooked well done, the combination of sauces spread on top could be described by a word my mom might say regarding amazingly good food from unsuspecting places - magic.

So our time in Bocas has certainly lived up to Caribbean lifestyle - slow, relaxed, with lots of sun, piñas, and hammocks.  After 6 days, though, we´ve had our fill, and are headed back up into the mountains of El Valle, as that seems to be more of Jon and my "scene".