Panama: 02. – 16.01.10

Oops, we almost drove past the immigration office of Costa Rica. Well, that can happen if you got used to masses of people running towards you trying to get you past the border with their ‘help’.

They just did not exist here, unlike all the previous borders. Also this border, like all the others we also managed to pass in less than two hours. Even though here they tried to throw us rocks on the way, we were supposed to show a continuing flight or ticket. Hey, we wouldn’t be the N-Team if we couldn’t manage that. We just printed an e-mail with an offer to ship our Nisto with lots of numbers and all in English and that was all to satisfy our border control agent.

After a further wonderful sunset at a place right at the beach we reached Panama City on January 4th, where we met the Spanish couple Ana and Josu with whom we had contact before about a shipment together to Argentina. Unfortunately for us they decided to go to Cartagena, nevertheless we spent a great evening at the Yacht Club and went together to the Barwil Agency. While they had to wait for an American couple that also wanted to ship to Columbia, we got released after a bit of paperwork to do our homework.

First it meant to wash Nisto. But as always in such situations, if you look for something specific, it just isn’t around. After a lengthy drive around we finally found a wall with the writing “Lava Coche”, driving on there an elderly person wanted to inflate our tires. “No, no car wash!” “Ahh, Ok.” And with slow movements he started to fill a bucket with water and disappeared, most probably on the search of a sponge. While waiting for his return a young man approached us and asked in English where we’re from and what we’re doing. After explaining so, he shuck his head “No, not here around the corner is a professional place to wash cars.” So we went there and indeed there was an “Auto Lavanderia” with a pressure hose. Just what we have been looking for and nobody else around, so it would be a quick thing. Well one would think, but the boys “working” there barely noticed us and just said “to big.” Hmm, that is normal that we pay a bit more because of Nisto’s dimensions, but they just refused any further conversation. Speechless we asked at the neighboring gas station if there is another car wash in the area. Of course they just pointed to the one we just left. An elderly man who overheard our explanation didn’t hesitate, filled a bucked took a sponge and started to give our Nisto a real treat by hand. An hour later he just shone like new and the man just wanted $4 the same what the place with the pressure hose wanted. Of course he got some more.

Now it meant to visit the federal police, to inspect Nisto for the export. There we met Ana and Josu again with their American companions from New Jersey. Fortunately, because without them it would have been over for us on that day, since the inspection time was, against our information from Maria, from 10 am till 11am and it was just past 11. With his Spanish origin Josu managed miraculously to talk them into making an exception just for the three vehicles of us. Then it meant to wait again, between 2:30pm and 3pm we should be at the police ministry just across the street to get the necessary papers for the export.  

So we went to eat something quick to arrive overly accurate at the entrance to get permission for admission. Here was the next block; we cannot enter, why long pants or skirt is required. And we specially asked at Barwil if there is a dress code mandatory. We looked down at us; Elizabeth and Braden from New Jersey have heard about it and wore Jeans. But the rest of us just wore short pants. And now, giving up was not an option, the only car that was still here was Elizabeth and Braden’s Golf, the rest of us returned from lunch by taxi. Elizabeth went to grab a pair of Jeans, a Skirt and Leggings. That where quickly provided to the girls, Josu and Markus where to wait outside. New try; but again we couldn’t pass, Sonja shirt was shoulder free. Not many options left, Markus had to give up his T-Shirt. On the shocked denial of the bouncer that Markus couldn’t sit here without shirt, Ana countered if Sonja should undress to give Markus her shirt? “No, no, of course not, but hurry!” This whish was not fulfilled by his colleagues inside. Over 1 ½ hours we had to wait till slowly something went. We could fill in a paper, not an all too difficult task, but these papers had to be signed by the owner of the vehicle and they were outside half naked. We reported the lady behind the counter about our situation, who just shuck her head since tourist could normally pass because they are unaware of the dress code. Nevertheless the owners had to be in the office. Another change orgy begun, Markus got his shirt back and squeezed into the Leggings while Josu just ‘perfectly’ fit into Elizabeth jeans. And since dress code goes over dignity the two remaining owners were granted access to the ministry. While well amusing other customer we had to wait some other 45 minutes till we finally got the Ok from the ministry to export all our vehicles.

Whereas the other four already on the next day had to leave, we had two whole days we could spend with our Nisto. We organized a private hostel room for the first night, explored Panama City, looted our fridge and packed our back bags, till it meant to say goodbye on Thursday. Unfortunately only Markus was allowed onto the port area in Colon. While Sonja stud behind in the main building, Markus spent most of the time waiting. Once for the anti-narcotic-dog, then again for the matching person to attend the dog, again for another stamp or a signature, but after about 6 hours Nisto was tied in the container and we in a bus back to Panama City to our Hostel.

Our last week in Panama we spent on Isla Bastimentos in the Caribbean Sea. Although it was dry season it was raining for three whole days. What for once also had its advantages: we didn’t have to be ashamed that we left our home only for food. We fully enjoyed the ‘sweet nothing to do’ in the presence of the many red frogs in the garden of the Beverly’s Hill Guesthouse. Before we took the night bus back to Panama City with a following Chicken Bus (colorful painted old American School Busses, normally completely stuffed but really cheap) to the airport. Where we spent the day just to take a night flight to Buenos Aires, there we arrived on January 17th completely overtired but anxious what this big city holds for us.

What we’ve done here without our Nisto, you can read soon in the next report.

Hasta luego.

The N-Team still without N

Suplement: For all of you who ask themselves why we just didn’t drive to Columbia? That is because at the time there still is no road connecting Panama and Columbia. Small trails do lead through the still virgin jungle, but even Nisto would have no chance of passing them. That is why every car going from Central- to South America (or the other way) has to go on a boat. If you want to know more, just follow the link about this so called Darien Gap.

Here it goes to the pictures…