Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Recovery session
Sleep is amazing. I’m glad I got 3 hours this morning. Big shoulders Lawrence got the ball rolling at 8am to go and do an island tour by boat. With varying levels of enthusiasm and a few swearwords, we were on the boat on setting of. Even though I was crazy tired from the 2 day fiesta, I’m glad I got out of our crack den of a room.
Checking out one of the reefs. Teeming with fish and crazy looking coral.
Red frog beach - rock jumps, burger huts by the beach and crystal clear water to recharge the batteries.
Tour de Bocas
I slept for no more than an hour before I had 6 bright eyed possums on my bed excited about the days developments. “We’re a bike gang, we just hired a heap of lowrider bikes” “We doing to Tour de Bocas!” Before setting off we needed our Bocas continental breakfast - Beers and Caprihenia’s, jammed packed with nutrients - perfect way to start the day. The locals say the best way to see the island is by bike, so instead of laying in bed with a hangover, we were loose by 8am and set off along to coastline to Bluff Beach.
Arriving at Bluff we spent the day chilling - swimming crystal Caribbean waters, sipping on Caribbean rum and navigating the ‘Survivor Panama’ gear they had erected for the new series. Next to were we had set up camp, these amazing looking ladies were outstretched taking in some rays. Looking definitely like latino girls (who go mad over an Aussie accent), I got over there to see how things would pan out. Turns out they’re Israeli girls - sure why not. They spoke okay english and we chatted for a good 20mins, pretty stoked on each other. Realising we hadn’t actually exchanged names we went ahead. “My name’s Jamil...” to which on of the girls replied “Thats an Arabic name yes?”. Turns out they’re all Hebrew. The mood suddenly went cold. Game over.
We spit into teams for the last leg home - England V Australia. Stopping at a bar overlooking one of the beaching, we topped off energy levels and strategised. At this point a few bit of trash talking was going on - led by Taylor, I’ve never heard someone talk up and be so confident about his riding. Such emotion. Such passion. Pity he had a chain blowout 1km into the race. Luckily the rasta dude we hired bikes off was worried about us, and rode around the island to make sure we hadn’t gotten lost/ kidnapped/ sold the bikes for beers. Eventually getting back to the hostel, it was time to prep up for fiesta and do it all over again.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Wednesday at Aqua Lounge
With the temperature almost pushing 35 degrees, our only refuge was the Hotel Heike treehouse roof to watch the sun go down and treat ourselves to a bunch of cervezas, couple litres of caribbean rum, a litre of vodka and the sounds of Soulwax. Being a Wednesday night, Aqua Lounge was the destination for party girls and party boys, with free drinks for ladies being a drawcard for both sexes.
Well under the influence, we rounded up a handful of pretty ladies to come and dazzle on the DF for a ‘so you think you can dance’ like show down of epic proportions. To cool off from all the twirling and fist pumping action, there was a 2 story driving platform into the water, right in the middle of the bar. Perfect to take that special girl for a middnight swim. The memory is a little sketchy on this night - after we dominated the 'VIP' service with a couple bottles of vodka things once again stepped up. There was a fight club, a few girls, the Santa Cruz incident, Michael Phelps and some kitchen acrobatics. In the end, I’d score our efforts an 8/10 for this night.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Torrential travel
We’ve done well picking the days to travel. As we were busing to David, again the rain was having its way with Panama. Getting into David we stayed the night at The Purple House - recommended by Lonely Planet, but not me. The chick who runs this place is a full on nutter, has a fetish with the colour purple and her shit dog “Cutsie”. Every inch of the place had a sign on it outlining what you can’t do, it felt like I was intruding in a special learning classroom, not a backpackers hostel. I was scared for Taylor - he was wearing a purple hat. I could picture him waking up in the morning in shackles, with this chick throwing a bucket of water on his face. All in all, stay somewhere else.
Rising early we hopped on a 4 hour bus to Almirante, then a water taxi to Bocas for what would be a unique visit to the island...
Monday, August 2, 2010
Santa Catalina Surfpoint
Our whole crew were pretty stoked on this place. An awesome find and a place I’ll definitely stay at when I’m back in Santa Catalina. The surfcamp has only been open for business for a couple of months, but they do have things sorted and big plans for the future. Right on the beach at Estero, 10 min walk from La Punta, 15min walk to Punta Brava, a cool restaurant overlooking the beach, and space to throw up hammoks or a tent if you want to do it cheaply. $13 a night locked you into a room with aircon and breakie, but the thing that set this place apart was the hospitality. The whole family went out of their way to make our stay awesome. From giving us lifts to town, letting us party hard (and joining in) to giving us solid intel on Panama. Big thanks to the crew at Surfpoint and we’ll see you next year.
Check out their Facebook page and go and stay if you head to Panama. Email for reservations: santacatalinasurfpoint@gmail.com
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Aussie rescue
We’d just got back from a surf at La Punta in the morning and it started the bucket down. Eating a few chocolate crepes for breakie, we watched over the beach spotted a brand new Nissan Ute fast approaching the creek on out going tide. Although the creek may seem quite shallow, until dead low tide there is still a heap of water in it. Like a skater attacking a half pipe, the Nissan dropped in on the creek wall, coming to full stop. Everyone eating breakie lost their shit with laughter. Things got worse for the family in the Nissan, as the truck acted at wall in the creek creating a stationary wave which began breaking over it. Aussies to the rescue! Packing a scrum behind Nissan, we pushing as a 4x4 on the beach tried to winch it out. About 10 mins in the truck was finally out, but totally waterlogged. Chips and cans of drink floating around in the cabin.
The next day, the dad turned up to our hostel in a new hire car and 6 cases of beer for our efforts. Right on.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Jammin pizza and the World Champs of Insulin (WCI)
A full on Catalina establishment, Jammin Pizza worked hard for its money. Epic wood fired pizzas, couple magnums of Chilean red wine and we were good to settle in.
But it seems its pretty tough to have a good wholesome fun these days, without things escalating. We got back to the surf camp, had a few beers and Taylor posed to question to Ricky, “what would happen if we had some of your insulin” to which Ricky replied, “my mates always ask me, but no-ones ever tried. Welcome to the 2010 World Championships of Insulin in Santa Catalina. We went straight to the final to see Taylor from Australia battle it out with John from Canada, who could get to 105 units first (the normal dosage for a diabetic is 12 units). During the heated contest, blood sugar levels were monitored closely, oranges, ice-cream and coconuts were on hand regulate blood sugar. With injections ranging from 15-30 units, I posed the question “Guys, this may or may not be safe”. But in the spirit of patriotism, the contest went on. Both contestants dropped below 4 on their blood sugar level (not at all stable) before the final round. With a big effort by Taylor, taking in a massive 50 units at once, it was all over and Australia has won the world championship. The customary feast of oranges, bread and ice-cream proceeded the final ward off any chance of a hypo. The contestants shook hands. And we went to bed. Taylor had a hypo anyway. What did we learn out of this little experiment? If non-diabetics take more that 10 times the normal dosage of insulin in a short space of time, they’ll find their way to the freezer looking for ice-cream.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Fingers in Santa Catalina
So Raf got his ear pierced. It wasn’t totally a spur of the moment decision. Even though he exceeded his RDI of cervezas, a major driver of the stud in his right lobe was the fact that his bloodline can be tracked back to pirates.
Things began in the afternoon when Captain Rack Sparrow and his first mate Big Shoulders Lawrence ducked into town to collect 1 red emperor, 12 red snappers, a array of vegies, a wheel barrow of cervezas and a couple bottles of rum. A feast was about to be prepared. A few lads got on the grill, a few lads prepared the salad, the girls... didn’t do anything, but dinner was served.
Post feast and knee deep in beers, the finger game was introduced. Its an extremely social game, getting players and the crowd amped up and super hammered. It also has the potential to get out of hand - something I learned at my last job at TBWA...
As things were heading like they were about to get out of hand, Raf had come to the realisation that he needed to follow the footsteps of his ancestors. Calling on Qualified Keil to perform to operation, the surgical team prepped:
1 safety pin for piercing
1 lighter for sterilisation
Ice to numb the lobe
1 mango to sit behind the ear as support
We soon realised that Qualified Keil did not possess what was needed for the procedure. So Unqualified Keil was fired. In comes Sterile Scotty who in a frenzy raised the pin high into the air, charging it through Raf’s ear lobe, into the mango. Raf calmly requested the earring, and before you know it Captain Rack Sparrow was on his feet drinking rum from the bottle.
Up early down late
With limited sleep and a sore head, I was damn impressed by the way we collected ourselves at 6am to get waves at La Punta. Scored it glassy, uncrowded and 3-4ft - well worth the effort. As initial hype began to wear off after 2 hours, the thought of Yann’s chocolate breakfast crepes made their way into my head and it was time to bail.
Post breakie, we went in search of Punta Brava - apparently a pretty rad right reef over the next headland. With vague instructions on how to get there from a few different people, of us mobilised on foot east. Upon arriving all we saw was a mess breaking on a rock platform, but potential around the next corner... maybe Punta Brava was around there. With the sand disappearing and only the sharpest rocks of all time to walk on (and no shoes) the was a surprising amount of enthusiasm from the lads to keep trucking and find the wave. 40 mins later, 4 more next corners and super sore feet, we realised we messed up bigtime - Punta Brava was the first reef. Shit. Massive deflated walk home. The consolation prize was a mushy 3ft El Estero out the front of our place. By that point we just needed to get into the water before heat exhaustion set in.
The afternoon activities were split, half the crew went to a local bar in town to get loose, and a few of us joined Yann at La Punta - great sacrifice for not drinking, 4ft glassy walls for about an hour. Then the afternoon storm set in which rivaled a cyclone, tearing Santa Catalina apart for 3 hours. Battling the storm, the rest of the crew arrives back to th e surf camp looking like wet dogs carrying 150 Balboa cervezas, prepping for the nights events.
A few solid drinking games then Julio got up for a DJ session. By this point there was about 20 of us - our crew, a bunch of Americans and there owners family. Then out of nowhere Yann brought out about 10 masks and things really stepped up. Notable mention goes to Keil and his girl for the night Jenny. Deciding they would get to know each other on the top bunk above where Jonny was passed out didn’t go down too well. The supports collapsed and Jonny woke to 2 adults, a mattress and a heap of wood crashing down on top of him.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Getting busy
Waking up pretty ordinary, a surf at Playa El Estero was on the cards. Raf had dumped about 6 red Berocca’s into a litre bottle of water which was perfect for my headspace. I went off to grab some boardies, and came back with a craving for Berocca. The bottle seemed to have been moved to next to a water cooler so I took hold and had another massive drink. Shock fucking horror. Turned out to be a different water bottle filled with a red cleaning agent - too late for me I’d swallowed it all. Feeling dazed I drank a heap of water to try dilute it, but felt okay to walk to the surf. 15 minutes though the walk with Dan, Ricky and Jimmy, I started loosing my shit, violent throw ups, spinning head... Thought I was going to die, I was pretty cut. Nearly at El Estero, we looked behind and Ricky was having hypo, ready to kiel over to - needing sugar bigtime! We made it to Surfpoint Surf Camp, where French owner Yann rounded up oranges and water for us dead men walking. After a bit of rest, we got our bundles together and got out for waves. Stoked on the coolest French guy ever, and the awesome set up of the surf camp, we came back and sorted enough room for 11 of us to stay for 5 days.
Surfed a sweet session at La Punta (Catalina Point) about 4ft in the arv, then back to Surfpoint for a family dinner - guests included Tony Montana the 8kg Red Emperor and another 121 beers.
Hauling 10 to Santa Catalina
Getting 10 of us to Santa Catalina was a solid mission, but with the cyclonic conditions, it was by far the best day to travel. From Panama you need to get the bus from the Albrook terminal to Sona, then Sona to Sta Catalina. All up the trip is about 7 hours.
The aircon was cold as hell on the bus, so our Mageiver influence had us remove the curtains for warmth as make shift blankets. Getting to Sona we, ran into another Aussie Dan, who jumped on board the crew Sta Catalina. Apart from a connecting bus and a corner store, there isn’t anything in Sona.
We bunked down at local surfer Rollo’s cabins for $10 each, which was a cool little place. A few seppo girls at Rollo’s were keen for a bit of a party, so who were we to deny. Feeling as through the massive bus trip was an accomplishment, we treated ourselves to whole fried fish and chips for $3 each and 121 $0.70 beers.
By day by night
Panama City by day (took this pic the morning we left Panama City - not the most appealing shot in the torrential rain)
Panama City by night
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
It’s best if I never leave room 7 - Ricky Geltch
Luna’s Castle is a full on maddhouse. Making our way to Casca Veijo, we arrived hearing and reading stories about the place, but had no idea until we set in. For $13 a night we were presented with: Free breakie, a movie theater, $1 beers upstairs, free wi fi, beer garden connected to the Relic Bar (public bar that serves 50c beers and $1 spirits in happy hour) and keys to our beds in Room 7...
We joined forces with a pretty solid Aussie crew, where we turned Luna’s Castle into Luna’s Circus for about 3 days. Thursday, Friday, Saturday we turned things up, enforcing an Aussie influence on the rest of the Hostel.
Things really escalated up on Saturday. Hitting the beers most of the day, we rounded up the troops to Room 7 late in the afternoon to get right down to business. A few hours of getting full on, and a session of beer bongs at happy hour, about 10 of us followed a few local girls lead to a local club ‘The Loft’. Definitely out of place, but too loose to care, we hit the DF hard, using smooth Spanish compliments and ripping dance moves to try our hand at possies of local chickas.
Panama Canal
A trip to the Canal is a must for any trip to Panama City. Its a textbook tourist mission, but once there, you’re amazed by the scale of this engineering structure. We took a $6 cab ride from Luna’s Castle to the the Midaflores locks, and $8 for the full tour. We got there just in time for a massive oil tanker the ‘Asopos’ to pass through the locks.
The tanker enters the lock, pulled by 4 guides on a track. Once gate 1 is closed, water fills the lower chamber making the tanker rise. The ship continues to rise until the water level in the upper and lower chambers are at the same level, which at the point gate 2 to opens.
Once open the tanker passes through into the upper chamber, this process happens again - however the upper chamber water level must now rise to the same level as the rest of the Canal. The tanker passes through gate 3 then progresses on north through the Canal. The whole process takes about 30mins. Chatting to a local lad who priced this tankers movement through the Midaflores locks at $300k. The locks operate 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Generating around $4 million a day at Midaflores alone, you begin to realise the massive potential of this developing nation.
An expansion project of Midaflores locks has recently begun west of the current locks. The focus is to ease pressure on the current locks, get bigger ships through and in turn more money for Panama. The project is costed at $5 billion over 7 years.