On reaching the terminus at Sixaola, I’d fallen asleep and woke with a start to discover that I was the only one of our group still on board. My rucksack seems to be getting heavier and standing in line to get checked out of Costa Rica didn’t help a great deal. Eventually we made our way across the bridge over the River Sixaola and into Panama, where, contrary to expectations we were processed fairly rapidly.
From here a private bus took us to the port of Almirante and thence by boat to the Isla Bastimentos. En route we stopped at the sizeable town of Changuinola in order to visit the ATMs and stock up with cash. Panama uses the US dollar which will make many transactions much simpler. I’ve noted the preparations for Christmas which seem to be well under way throughout Central America but here I saw traditional Christmas trees presumably being transported to customers.
Given that Christmas is still some three weeks away I wonder what state these trees will be in by the big day. Our boat was a long, flat bottomed fibre class vessel and the sea was fairly choppy.
Our boatman drove us along like a demented charioteer, the boat crashing down with a spine shuddering thump every time we hit a larger than average wave. There seemed to be far too many of these. It came as a relief to arrive at the Hotel Caribbean View and been shown to rooms as comfortable as any we’ve had so far.
The village is very small with about 200 shacks of varying quality, many painted in bright colours and there is nothing to do here unless you take to the water. At seemingly regular intervals some of the houses have serious sound systems set up and the music pulsates its way into the surrounding area.
So this tropical paradise is not as quiet as you might imagine. The group decision was for a meal out and consequently a water taxi delivered the group back across the channel to enjoy a meal in Bocas del Toro. Then the group split up, the Americans to return to the hotel whilst the younger members with me in tow went to play pool. Somewhat bizarrely, the bar closed at ten so it was into another water taxi to visit a club, the Aqua Lounge, set out over the water and even had a pair of swings where the inebriated and even the sober could swing out over the water and jump off into it.
I asked the security man if he was worried about the mixture of drunken youngsters and so much water but he seemed unconcerned about the potential dangers. Anyway, this was clearly not my sort of place and I left the others to their pleasures and made my way home for a comparatively early night. By now the wind had dropped and the journey was much smoother than the earlier one.
The next day I woke feeling distinctly ‘out of sorts’; perhaps the various illnesses of others had finally caught up with me. I spent most of the day moping around but the sun arrived in the late afternoon and I resolved to walk across the island to Wizard Beach. Luis, the hotel owner advised me not to take anything with me and not to walk alone. Shortly after climbing out of the village I came to a sign which offered the same advice so I began to turn back, deciding that common sense should prevail.
At this point three young surfers arrived and invited me to walk with them so I reverted to plan A. The trouble was that the path was extremely muddy and staying upright was a genuine challenge (for me).
Being surfers, their sense of balance was clearly superior and soon I was wading the muddy path alone, having given up on my footwear. One wrong turning and a considerable amount of time later I reached my destination: Wizard Beach certainly lived up to its name.
The only problem was the failing light so, photos captured, I retraced my steps in time to arrive back at the hotel for a Caribbean sunset. So, not an entirely wasted day!
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