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Central America, another trip.

ground again, this time in Central. View a road after so many days of longing borders on exciting. In Miramar, where he had fallen King Emmanuel, charge a few dollars of gasoline and start with the idea of \u200b\u200bstaying the night in Portobelo. Sincerely not much to see there, except an old fort and the historic building customs, place left for Europe where much of the looted gold and silver to the American continent for centuries and that the incidentally was the place to assemble the tent and saved me a night in a thunderstorm as rarely vi.

Puerto Obaldía had failed to make the customs process for the Rojita so I'd have to do in Puerto Colon. Thither I went, I met one of the ports and free zone world's largest, really big. Among many containers, tanks and trucks of all sizes and colors with small di customs office where I should arrange to enter the country on the bike, paperwork every time I find most unnecessary, because in truth could enter and exit countries without anyone being aware of my presence (or rather of the presence of the Rojita) and not because I strive Hide, comes from me just because I have always to go looking for the place I which serve the papers (to quit) and actually step itself is virtually free , ie, I can spend without anyone noticing that he never joined cast even a eye to the vehicle at the time record and other data. In short, in any manner and for save me trouble with the law, do all the rigmarole, fortunately quite fast, I around the city and went to your tent. I stayed in one of the fire stations in Columbus. Not much to tell of it. The next day I left very early to Panama City without even having a clue what he would do in the city, ie almost no money left to me, just some material to be whether or produce and begin to overcome this issue.

Panama City

say that tell the little Miami, label as wrong as any city moldable with a few buildings tower and a handful of gringo aspirations. The fact is that growth has had and the Panamanian capital the last ten years, as excessive as messy and full of multimillion-dollar investments hands of people like Donald Trump , with the channel and its extension (now) in domestic hands form the perfect cocktail to generate a big bubble of happiness and colored birds. Barrios as Chorrillos, Caledonia Curundú and ask to be invited screams with something other than leftovers and crumbs.

is complicated to talk about the Panamanian society, at least in the capital city, as infected until the foundation of culture Yankee worst of gringo culture. I recommend watching the documentary "The Panama Deception", is just one example of how information was manipulated and the media for a long time the world and people corduroy (which does not mean they do not keep doing it.) Any resemblance to current conflicts and wars is not coincidental.

become artisan

back to what we compete, my arrival in the Panamanian capital a couple of days after landing , he is surrounded by pure uncertainty, only about 50 dollars wallet, some materials in the bag, some skill with my hands and no experience as a craftsman. All this had to leave the mode of travel for the coming months, or rather, until my return home, God knows when.

The first few days I stay home thanks to Gabriel on a fellow traveler of him after that and not knowing it was going to do was to sound out a little old town atmosphere. Right there I met several guys Argentine artisans, two of them, Pipo and Ceci (link hitchhiking to Mexico) spend my birthday, weird birthday by the way, bringing you a very fresh Balboa the hotel terrace where they were staying . The band was completed with Gustavo, Eli, Laura , Yankel and later, Andrew and Tabata.

obligate decided to wear my jersey craftsman, started patching with the very little that had done so far. The patch was held at the Paseo de la Plaza Francia, in front of the embassy of that country and place where it pays tribute to the Gauls to be first to try to build the notorious canal. At times be under the scorching sun and the countless daily showers are to little less than crooked. Banque me like a duke, was to grow cloth to bit and giving me material.

Sometimes I think this of crafts will not work, not going to take me too far , think that if there is no other way to generate income or later earlier this is going quite complicated. Sin embargo always flows, just a matter of being in the moment and place (as if this were not enough and easy.) Among

flat knots, seeds and some other stone, I spent a month in Panama City, doing accounts, taking numbers, was quite positive, I served for many things, adapt to the new pace of travel, a bad digest news, reflect, produce and learn a lot of things about the craft, I could buy materials, I met interesting people and but left the city just as economically as bare when it comes, the balance is very positive.

That month I stayed more exactly the firefighters Arraijan, about 12 kms from the city across the bridge of the Americas. Garnish wrists and necks of almost all the firemen's headquarters, very grateful for their hospitality during the nearly 30 days.

The strange thing is that first impressions to take me the "Panas" was shocking, I had the feeling all the time to be badly treated, ie nothing personal, but simply gestures and modes that are obviously very different. One of these tics, hard to describe in words is a combination hand and face, in that both seem to be saying (at least for the custom Argentina) "with you?", ie eyebrows that rise along with the chin while the hand makes a slight turn on itself, with fingers pointing gun position to the side. I know, hard to explain, a small gesture that made me take a few bad moments early days.

Encounter with the devil

one afternoon, one of many in which the square parchábamos France and while we debated a bit about politics and other herbs, we ended up talking about is not because of Argentina of 90 's, the disastrous neoliberal Menem era and the consequences to this day suffer the Argentines and in some ways, the same fate befell the rest of Latin America. On the highest point of the talk, in the most heated and as we finished the round with some ideas, we fell into a moment of silence, normal after reaching some conclusions. Just seconds later, I look one side of the ride and I come to two seniors, of which one of the two seemed familiar. I look at more carefully when I make eye contact with this person, then I felt a chill throughout the body while I felt like the hairs stand on end. The only thing I managed to tell the boys was "look, talking about Argentina in the 90's." I think the feeling I flooded my was the same as the rest of the group, a deathly silence took hold of the patch. The air was cut with scissors, the nefarious character seemed to notice and certainly accelerated the pace as he liked a drop of perspiration under the weight of knowing they have observed and guilty conscience. Hard Silence a moment longer while Domingo Cavallo moved away and we are left with the bitter taste of having a face to face with the devil, or at least one of his henchmen.

And where is the season?

season, that (at least for me for now) give me the myth that always promises some things at least on economic issues. never stop me yet. In October, promised me by mid November, averaging this month, secured for me in December, reaching new year distrusted and insisted that I was almost starting.

Amid the promise of better times ahead, I left Panama City to El Valle de Anton, a village inside the crater of a volcano, of course, extinct. A super-quiet, cool weather, stop a few days with Andrew and Tabata (link the journey of Andrew). I full production and when he was almost to continue heading north were forced to reschedule last minute and went back to the city. He was a good time to make me some materials and if possible go with some more money. To all this the band was already moving to Bocas del Toro.

I spent another month in Panama City, not bad, in fact, talking productively was perhaps better than the previous month. The last two weekends of the patch growth was clearly reflected in the sale.

Nacho, a Bolivian resident in Panama gave me a great giving me hand in her house there near from the central avenue, near the old town .

Finally, after me materials, some days before Christmas, I was definitely in the City. In Currency, a town halfway stop at customs to arrange permit the extension of the Rojita and found the news that after the third month out of the country would return to receive the mented scrap of paper that says I can be with the bike in the territory corduroy, which I needed.

The next day, after crossing the central mountain range, reaching admiral, port on the Caribbean side from where the ferry to Isla Colon (Bocas del Toro) spent the night in fire, leave the bike there it to return after the weekend and see how do to go to the border, handling the start and after the entry . I had to improvise a little and lying on a tile to solve this whole mess bureaucratic. Sali border unscathed from this mess, and only then with another month of leave, I Rojita to cross the island.

I spent twenty days in mouths and I think the best was be with the mandolin, so much feasting, music and games of volleyball in the sand. I will not say much about the soccer game with the mandolin we did the team that ended the island and overwhelmed with a result that indeed, after the fifth or sixth goal that made us prefer to lose count. Among us in the post-party talks we chose to blame the rain, no grasp of our shoes as well as on the island that the ball does not bend.

course beaches Bocas del Toro just leave you with my mouth open, perfect for snorkeling, see corals, starfish and the occasional manta ray.

All very nice until it rotted all the municipalities, without thinking a lot about the subject and almost no explanation, did not allow us to patch. And without much more to do, we went whistling softly the boys to Puerto Viejo and I, back to the Pacific side, although I had better follow the path of the Caribbean, had a hunch that across mountain good thing I expected.

With no certainty about where exactly was going, I'm out on the road. At the junction of the Pan American in Chiriqui, I decided to implement the ever fruitful technical of "sit-to-side-of-way-to-see-you-me-holds-the-destiny." Parked at a gas station map in hand and see what comes out. After a while, someone comes up to me, about 65 years, a chat, he invited me a bottle of mineral water, I told a bit of travel and other, what I recommended it would be nice to go to Boquete, just that day was starting the Festival of Flowers and Coffee, apparently a very important festival. Got the message that I was throwing the route, I went there.

Making magic

Boquete is a town among the hills, in a beautiful valley on the central ridge at the foot of the extinct volcano Baru. They say and you can actually seen mainly in the environment and architecture, a community of Europeans and some Americans settled here a long time ago now. Today is essentially a tourist site, I really liked, with a pleasant climate, something fresh, with a daub (accompanied by slight wind a very fine drizzle) night almost daily. So with all my energy put into the patch, without thinking too fits me in front of City Hall Park, with the bike and cloth.

A short week I spent there, a week of pure magic, I bought the handlebar, front fender (which broke in the crash in Colombia), the clutch handle and pass, change oil. Also buy some of Tagua (the, by now, famous seed) an Ecuadorian who happened I was there in Boquete.

After the show, I went to another village where I had heard and would be starting in a few days parties do not know what a virgin. There

fell, Bugaba reminded me somewhat to some villages in Colombia, most people. The fire station with all the familiar friendly Pana, again I would stay.

When I say doing the magic, if it were necessary to clarify, I mean those things, or moments that just happen to form, commonly call, magic. I went to the land where the fair would be held the Virgen de la Candelaria stone face and send me to the office of an organization that was boiling at that time were the final preparations and from what I could see, was all pretty far from being ready to boot. Among all the chaos, back and forth with the manager gave the organization, I told him that I wanted to see the possibility of setting up my craft table inside the premises, by myself and I figured the "no" was going to receive to my surprise, I replied "mmm and what kind of crafts do you do?" he told a bit and asked me Please wait. The thing was moving. After a while of waiting me into his office and told me that she liked the crafts, I knew that probably was not in my ability to pay which corresponded to patch and I knew we did to travel and learn. Thus allowed me to enter my cloth every day, only to change that gave him a brace woven into a butterfly. What is said, a lucky guy.

I fell short of saying that the following week was extremely positive. I think it was the best in recent months, sold well, was in a super quiet town, had breakfast every day in a beautiful park in the shade of trees surrounded by squirrels, some birds and also that the goal of joining the money to buy a camera and save something to move the first days in the last Costa Rican economy was more than accomplished. But such as are questions of the next entry.