A Non-Hostel Environment

A group of Aussies who had started in Mexico a couple of months ago reserved the hostel next door to Suenos, and Sueno's duena, Itza, made a deal with that hostel's owner  to take the overflow, so I am kicked out for a couple of days.  "Kicked out" might be a wee bit harsh since Itza is offering up a room in her own home up in the hills above Boquete in a little town called Estrella.  Estrella has no internet connectivity, so my connection with the world outside of Panama will be limited for a couple of days.

I arose this morning, Monday, and decided to hike the famous Quetzal Trail, purported to be one of the more spectacular trails in the world, up onto the slopes of Volcan Baru from where one can see both oceans.    I enjoyed one of the funnier bus rides of my trip: first going around the block to return to our starting point just to play a joke on one of the riders, after which we stopped at every little super-mercado (each about the size of a corner convenience store) to yell out the window at the owner to see whether they had any gas (propane) on hand for sale.  The first four only had empty containers, but the 5th had what we needed and we continued on up to the top of the route where they let me out.

I hiked up the paved road awhile until I came to a sign that said "Sendero Culebra" (Snake Trail) above another sign that said "Waterfalls" in English.  Deciding to take a short side hike, I followed the trail down and across a small river.   Once across, I met four Brits on their way back down from the waterfall trail who told me that there was a $5 entrance fee to see the falls, so I decided to double back to a road that veered off to the left and upstream just across the bridge.  I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon exploring the various beautifully clear swimming holes that I encountered the rest of the way up to a little barbed-wire-gated driveway whose sign declared that it belonged to the Cabanas del Bajo Mono.

Undeterred by the barbed wire, I decided to see what the cabanas rented for, walking across a hand-made footbridge that led to a series of buildings surrounded by a well-kept lawn that also encompassed various flower and vegetable gardens.  I approached cautiously, yelling out "Buenas tardes!"  every 20 meters or so to give the owners warning that someone was around, but I needn't have bothered.  No one appeared the entire time that I was there, so I wandered back down the hill and out onto the road, where I happened to catch the same bus with the same bus driver.  This time, he drove down a side road to another small store where he dropped off a man who, I presume, was the store owner, since the bus assistant unloaded cartons of soda, sacks of potatoes and onions, and boxes of dry goods.  Then we stopped at a local warehouse to grab a couple of 100 lb. sacks of potatoes to take to Miguel someone or other and continued on our way back into Boquete.

Itza made dinner for four of us before taking me out to introduce me to her dogs, her husband, and her house.  When I awoke in the morning, there was a beautiful view to the mountains beyond, but the sound of the laughing river had been replaced during the night by dogs barking, so I was more than grateful for my morning cup of coffee.