I think our fast and furious Panamanian bus driver might kill us! If not, the hangovers will. Isla Colón was good to us on our last night in Bocas.
We’re off to Tortuguero, Costa Rica, which means goodbye to Bocas Del Toro and Panama. It was a good run. I’ll miss it here.
It’s hard to re-live the last couple weeks in detail. We’ve only had internet access twice and I’m often too busy catching up with my family (and snapchatting/instagraming) to write much. I hope over the next two trimesters I can blog more. In the meantime, here’s a snapshot of my life on the road:
The sheer exhaustion on everyone’s face is a clear indication of how much we’ve packed into a mere two weeks.
We spent most of our Bocas time on Solarte Island. We slept in tents on the porch of Wilson’s home. Wilson is an elderly man, originally from Florida. He’s a Gator. We pooped in his outhouse, which I will tell you is ten times worse than pooping in the woods. It was, and will be, the only time I missed NOLS.
Our free time was spent on Isla Colón where all of the restaurants, bars, Wi-Fi, and relatively normal bathrooms are found (if you think I talk too much about poop and bathrooms I beg you to take a walk – or shit – in my shoes). I fell in love with the Selina hostile and only wish we had a bit more time there. Bocas is a quaint town that comes alive at night. People walk around barefoot. Everyone’s skin is sun kissed and salty. It is the epitome of island vibe.