Falling asleep and waking up to the sound of the cascading surf is good for my soul. It is good medicine, and if you are fortunate enough to have good health, I’m sure it is protective. There is a feeling of contentment and peacefulness with every deep breath of the breezy ocean air. I only came to Boca del Torres, or simply “Boca”, as the residents call it, because a cousin in Long Island was kind enough to refer me to some of her late husband’s family members who emigrated to Panama many years ago. Otherwise, this place was not at all on my radar. While researching, I formed the (mistaken) opinion that Boca would be your typical tourist spot, with high rise condominiums hogging the shoreline and cruise ships spotting the horizon like punctuation marks. I imagined that luxury shops and boutiques would line the elegant avenues, traveled by throngs of well healed shoppers in designer sportswear. For the record, Boca is nothing, nothing, nothing at all like that. I would describe it as no show, and except for the ride that delivered me here, all slow. Another reminder of just how often I can be absolutely wrong!
What I actually saw after about a half hour ride on a very fast and sea worthy little water taxi with a Yamaha outboard, was an island that flat out stole my heart. It is already my third day here, and I’m afraid that the two weeks I have allotted myself will be an inadequate amount of time to soak in all the loveliness of Boca. First off, there are tourists, but even though it is high season, they in no way overwhelm the residents. Tourists and residents alike ride bicycles, walk, or take the island cabs to their destinations. Sixty cent taxis will take you anywhere you want to go in town, but I find it much more pleasant to walk. Although there are cars here, there are relatively few. And unlike everyplace else I have traveled in Panama and Costa Rica, there are no noisy, city buses and huge tractor trucks belching black sooty exhaust to disturb the ambiance or sully the fresh sea air.
This time my “Lonely Planet” failed to guide me in finding a reasonably priced accommodation. Because it was the beginning of the weekend and high season as well, all the recommended hostels were full, but I was relieved to find a vacancy in a non-reviewed hostel called “Coconuts” right on the town plaza. It seemed unfortunate that all they had left were dorms, four people to a room with two bunk beds and a fan, period. Luggage (or in most cases, back packs) are placed at the head or foot of your bed. I had had only one other experience with a dorm early in my travels. It will do in a pinch, but for only a few dollars more it is so much nicer to have your own private room and bath. In this situation one bathroom with two unisex shower stalls served the whole floor of about 10 rooms. And when I say “shower”, think cold water. I have been really very lucky to find many hot showers in the places I’ve stayed, but in both Panamanian and Costa Rican hostels they are the exception rather than the norm.
This tiny dorm room was shared by me and two interesting women. Mandy, about 40 years, had just finished a job as a crew member on a charter boat that had been sailing from and around San Blas Island in Panama. Dutch, hailing from a town near Amsterdam, with a perfect golden tan and blond Nordic features, Mandy is beautiful and statuesque enough to be a model. She, like me, had to take what lodgings she could find, and also like me, was able to find a more suitable place after only one night at Coconuts.
Mandy had decided to leave the conventional life to do something she really loved to do, and she soon found that she really loved being around boats. She is tranquil and soft spoken, and as the saying goes, as beautiful on the inside as on the outside. It so happened that we met up again just one day after we both left Coconuts. Small Island! She is friends with Curtis, an artist who lives next door to where I am now staying. It was on his porch, overlooking the small “international” airport and a spot where the sun would have been setting had it been out that day, that we all three had a conversation where I was once more astounded in my great good luck at meeting these exceptional people!
While on a tour of Curtis’ very cool stilt house and studio, I was totally blown away by the beauty of two surfboards he had sculpted out of fine wood. My first thought was, I hope to God no one actually commits these museum quality pieces to the salt water! He later assured me that they were, indeed, made for surfing. Unbelievable.
The other woman who shared the room at Coconuts came from Colorado. Kim, around 25 years old, works six months out of the year in the States to fund her stay in Boca for the other six months. We both agreed that Boca is a truly special place. I had the impression that she had been traveling this way for a few years already. Her love is cooking and she is now waiting to go to work and cook in a local restaurant. When she has enough experience under her belt, she feels she will be able to work in any country, including the U.S., as a real chef. Judging from her passion, it is certain to happen. As I was leaving, she offered me a whiff of a proprietary blend of exotic spices that she carries so she can cook for her friends, which is easy to do in these hostels with shared kitchens and living spaces. Even though the dorm style rooms have some real drawbacks (unisex showers for one!), you can readily see that hostel living offers great opportunities to meet fascinating people of all stripes.
In my next post, more on Boca del Toros and the local lifestyle.
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