Shopping and waiting
Author: Shirlz
I spent a few more weeks in San Blas, reluctant to leave the lovely, thinly populated cruising grounds.
During my stay in the Naguargandap Cays I met Joyce and Lorenzo on their big blue shrimp boat, the ‘Eileen Farrell’. They were planning one of their regular shopping trips to Panama City and agreed to let me join them. I had read about the possibility of taking a jeep trip from Cartí through the jungle and was keen to experience it.
Speedwell was safely anchored in a sheltered spot near the small island of Saludupored and as we had weathered two strong (35-40 knot) blows, I felt that the anchor must be well and truly dug in. Joyce had arranged for a water taxi to pick us up at 6:30 am for the roughly 20 mile trip to Carti on the mainland. The weather was good and we got there in 2 hours making one or two stops along the way to pick up more passengers from the scattering of tiny islands.
The jetty at Carti was quite busy with backpacker tourists arriving by road to be taken out by taxi boat to spend a few days in paradise. This is the only road connecting Guna Yala to Panama City and ‘civilization’. Cartí is not really a village, just a drop-off and pick-uo point for tourists and traders. There is a good place to have a bite to eat and I sampled my first ‘patecone’ which is a delicious fried plantain snack.
Soon our ‘jeep’ arrived and I was a little disappointed to find that it was not the rattly, open sort of vehicle that I had expected, but a luxurious, air-conditioned SUV. Well, it made for a comfortable ride for the long trip through the truly magnificent jungle along a roller-coaster winding road. Again, slight disappointment that it was not the rutted, muddy track described in my obviously out-of-date guide book, but a newly tarred road in good condition. We shared the vehicle with two well-travelled Canadian girls. The jeep drivers offer a great service and we were dropped off right at the entrance to our hotel in the city.
Four days of shopping and sightseeing ensued. I took a day off from the malls and supermarkets to walk around Casco Viejo which is the old part of the city that had been ruined by pirate raids hundreds of years ago. It was a rainy day so the photo-opportunities were limited but the Panama Canal museum provided an interesting place to shelter for a few hours.
Back on Speedwell it was a good feeling to be properly stocked up again with all my food lockers filled to the brim. The fairly regular visits from the ‘veggie boat’ would keep me supplied with fresh stuff. I felt I could stay indefinitely. But back to reality…
I planned to visit my son, Pete, and his family during December and for this I, as a lowly South African passport holder, needed a visa. So back we sailed to Puerto Lindo on a moonlit night, narrowly missing the spooky black conical silhouette of the enormous Open Blue fish farm along the way. I needed to get to a place with more reliable internet access to complete the online visa application form. Once this had been painstakingly achieved, a quick bus trip to the city to have my fingerprints taken and the whole lot, including my precious passport, sent off to Bogotá where the there is an embassy that actually processes visa applications. Now I resignedly await the outcome and hopeful return of my documents.
Puerto Lindo is a relaxed little place to be waiting. Just a very small village (actually called Garrote) with one or two tiny ‘tiendas’ selling the barest basics. A happy pig keeps cool by wallowing in one of the small streams that run down from the hillside. Blissfully unaware of his ultimate destiny. Chickens range freely. A veggie truck comes by most days and announces it’s arrival over a megaphone which I, of course, never actually hear. So if I need stuff I row ashore to Casa X, a popular yottie hangout, and nurse a fruit juice until it appears. If I have already missed it it can usually be found further along the way.
It’s Saturday today and usually a good day for the truck but Puerto Lindo, 25km down the only access road, is celebrating the annual ‘Black Christ‘ pilgrimage. Folk walk or sometimes crawl on all fours from Sabanitas, a distance of 22 miles, hoping for whatever miracle their particular circumstances require. Criminals traditionally take part hoping to atone for their misbehaviour. The town assumes a festive air with many food stalls springing up to feed the masses. It all seems suggestive of the sort of thing that might happen on Discworld.
Well, anyway the upshot was that Puerto Lindo was totally cut off for two days. So no veggie truck or buses and a peaceful day-tripper-free weekend.