A man, a plan, a canal, Panama!

Panama. In the Netherlands it’s really only known for the canal, bananas, the palindrome above and its role as a tax haven. So what should you actually picture?

Arnold already got a first impression in Dec 2020, when he suddenly found himself spending 3 days in a “5-star” hotel in Panama City, with a very busy but not particularly orderly world outside. The city is full of huge skyscrapers, quite a few of which look very impressive. But at street level it’s a typical second-world jumble.

After almost 3 weeks I can confirm that. Everything here has two sides. Let’s start with the people: most of them speak only Spanish and are basically relaxed and friendly. The climate encourages taking it easy too: hot, or humid and hot. There isn’t much tourism, so if you stop for a drink somewhere inland you’re the only tourist. Even at a tourist magnet like the Panama Canal visitor centre, the three of us were the only ones watching the English-language film, while there were easily 200 people there.

The landscape is (especially in this “wet” season) very attractive. Green everywhere, mountains, volcanoes, views, two oceans. And in many places human settlement, but plenty of real jungle too.

Unfortunately all those people do put a heavy burden on nature. Litter is everywhere, and the poorer the people, the more of it there is. Houses aren’t always maintained, and as everywhere in this kind of climate it’s tricky: black mould quickly takes hold on the outside, so things soon look a bit neglected. Ultra-modern petrol stations right next to some ramshackle hut where a guy also does something with cars. Beautiful supermarkets, even malls that could have stood anywhere in the USA or EU. And then the car park is immediately “typical” again. Bad asphalt, odd markings, hardly any signs.

And then the two most striking things: the “motorways” and the toilets. The roads have potholes so big you’re amazed there isn’t a car stranded with a flat tyre every kilometre. Everyone swerves around them, even if it means ending up half a metre into the other lane. And in three weeks I’ve seen exactly 1 decent loo. The rest ranged from bad to atrocious. In Aruba they’d have a heart attack, and even in Suriname it was usually better.

We had all this time because a new engine had to be ordered, preferably by return. Given the supply problems everywhere, even worse in the marine world because everyone wanted a boat during Covid, I wasn’t optimistic. But it turned out the American distributor of Beta Marine had exactly one perfect engine left, a 38 hp. Unfortunately without a gearbox, but a quick round of phone calls revealed that in Europe this was a fairly standard item. Factory delivery to the Dutch importer expected in March! Yet the firm Drinkwaard in Sliedrecht, about three kilometres from my mother’s, simply had one sitting on the shelf. So the engine was ordered post-haste; hopefully it’ll arrive here within 2 weeks. Damaris quickly flew to the Netherlands to pick up the gearbox and some other boat bits. That way she could also surprise her mother, who turned 75 today!

Rudolf and I are having a quiet weekend. I tried to fly back with Damaris on Friday, but KLM knows very well when customers are keen to fly and wanted top dollar for it. Tomorrow then, that’s fine too. So within 24 hours this adventure comes to an end, having turned out rather differently than expected!