The Steel Rat

August 24th to 28th

The road ends in Panama. Literally! There is no way to ride through the Darien Gap to Colombia in South America so we investigate options. There used to be a regular ferry service running between the two, but for reasons shrouded in mystery it no longer runs. This has lead to a thriving industry for privateers making the run on small boats ranging from oversize motor boats right up to large sail boats. Some have a nasty reputation - tales of drunken captains sleeping off hangovers through the voyage or worse still drug runners masquerading as tourist transport abound. If caught with drugs, all are assumed to be guilty and innocent fare paying tourists get to see the inside of Panamanian prisons along with the guilty crew. It pays to do research and unfortunately, this is not our strong suit!

Fortunately we do know other people who take the time to find out all the best information and so, we have heard of "The Stahlratte" which by sheer fluke is sailing just when we need it. It's one of the bigger vessels making the run and has an excellent reputation. It is also the boat taken by Anna and Ali and also Danny who I rode with in Bolivia so we relax and look forward to a safe passage.

It's a 4am start for a 5am pick up. The grumpiest man in the universe arrives at our hostel and his mood nose dives even further when he realises we have bikes. He had not been told. We had not been told that he has another five travelers to collect, plus all their gear. It's an extremely tight squeeze in a 4x4 pick up, along some immensely 3 dimensional roads.

We enter Kuna territory.

The Kuna are an indigenous tribe who are fiercely independent. They have remained separate from the rest of Panama maintaining their own lands, laws and culture. Passage is strictly controlled and passports must be shown and an entry fee paid to the official in a small hut at the roadside. To get to Stahlratte we take small Kuna piloted canoes through their river system and out to the open sea where we get our first glimpse of "Stahlratte" - The Steel Rat!

She's a 100 foot steel hulled, twin masted sail boat with an interesting history. Once a floating commune with a loose mission to sail round the world, once a sister ship to "Rainbow Warrior" and part of Greenpeace she is now captained by Ludwig a German who has been with her for 17 years. There are 20 passengers including us and the table is already set for a feast when we arrive!

We get the run down of the boat from Ludwig, a list of do's and don'ts, sign up for the roster to help out in the galley and the ship gets under way past tiny Kuna islands and their fishing canoes....

We are escorted through Kuna waters by a flotilla of bottle nosed dolphin - 'gay sharks' or 'pigs of the sea' according to Ludwig....

It's about a three hour trip under The Steel Rats chugging diesel engine to paradise.

We anchor up, pinch ourselves and gaze, open jawed at our new surroundings....

It's a bounty advert! Like stepping into one of those impossibly perfect holiday brochure pictures!

That island over there is our own personal little playground for the next day and a half! Just when you think life can't get any better, the bar full of ice cold cans floats out to meet us....

We snorkel amongst huge schools of iridescent fish and there are colourful parrot and angel fish. The coral is close to the surface and is a stark, vivid red. Someone spots a whale shark, we see an octopus maybe a metre long, all liquid limbs as it flees and hides in the dark places.

There are hundreds of these islands all dotted along the Caribbean Coast of Panama and it's easy to see why the Kuna seek to keep them private. Some are tiny - just golden mounds of sand, some have a single or maybe a pair of palm trees. Others are larger and have villages of densely packed palm thatched houses. There are schools and workshops where traditional clothes are weaved by hand. The villagers are really friendly, rowing out to our island to greet us and to invite us to visit their island village....

We see a canoe leave a neighboring island and I am amazed when they drop a line and instantly pull out a five pound fish! But that's nothing - for a minute later there is a struggle - one man in the water, one on the boat and suddenly they land what must be a 50 pound red snapper. Horns blare and a cheer goes up as the islanders celebrate their catch. We dispatch a dingy, negotiations take place and suddenly the fish is ours in exchange for $30 and a dozen cold beers. Ludwig sets about filleting the monster and it doesn't get any fresher than this....

The evening is spent on OUR island with a BBQ whilst the crew get to know each other....

Paradise Island by moonlight....

We spend the next day just hanging out with new friends - snorkeling, swinging on the boat's rope swing and swimming to other near-by islands. It's a pretty mixed bunch from Ireland, Sweden, The States, England, Switzerland and Canada; a couple travelling overland by car, three on motorbikes, us on bikes and the rest by bus. I had some reservations about being trapped on a small boat with a bunch of boring strangers, but everyone gets along amazingly well and it's a real laugh!

I'm on galley duty and learn how to crack open lobster. They are done in a delicious sweet papaya sauce, plus there is the fresh snapper! There are no complaints about the food!

Next morning we wake to the rhythmic sound of the engine and we are under way. It's sad to leave this gorgeous place behind, and it's a completely different atmosphere on the boat as we head out into the open seas. Crossings can be rough! The boat starts to rock and roll and we're glad to be on one of the biggest boats plying this route. It's much rougher on a smaller vessel and much more claustrophobic to boot. Sue takes a sickness tablet and disappears below deck for the rest of the day. I'm feeling fine until I try and use my laptop. 30 seconds later I'm feeding the fish over the side. I put the laptop away....

The crew prepare a stew, some eat... some just avoid the sight and smell of food at all costs. By all accounts it's a pretty calm crossing, but most of us landlubbers would disagree. The wind picks up a bit and the crew hoist the mainsail. It's a fine sight, but unfortunately the engine stays on as it's only a light breeze....

Going to sleep that night is a strange experience. The sound of the waves, the rhythmic swaying of the boat and the reassuring heart beat of the engine gently lull you down, down into deep slumber.

Interrupted when the engine suddenly stops!

It's 6am and people start to emerge from below decks into the sunlight. It slowly dawns on me that Central America is no more.... and that the coastline I am now looking at is South America! It's an odd way for us to cross a border; by ocean, and still thick with sleep it takes a moment for it all to sink in.

The harbour, the boats and then, beyond that - the skyline of the next leg of the tour! This is where we begin our adventure in South America - with the old city of Cartegena....

Thanks to Rachel Pook for the Kuna women and group photos and to Valerie for Stahratte's sails. Thanks to the rest of the crew for making it such a great voyage - good times!

The Panama Canal

August 18th

When in Panama you obviously have to visit “The Canal”, but first we head to The Canal Museum off Plaza de la Independencia to get some background info. We're a bit geeky like that.

It starts right back at the beginning showing the routes that sturdy mules overloaded with silver would have taken before the canal was even built. The 50 mile over land route took 4 day by fast horse – used for messages and important passengers, cargo took longer - 7 to 14 days which considering the heat, insects and dense jungle was tough going. In the 1850's the Americans built a railroad to help prospectors get from the East to the West coast of America during the gold rush. When it was opened it was the most expensive railway in the world: $25 for a first class ticket and $10 for second class, but many speculators happily paid given the vast wealth they thought was waiting for them in San Francisco. Ironically the railroad “paved” the way for a canal, showing both a viable route and also providing the logistics to bring in supplies and remove excavated earth.

Interestingly several routes were proposed for a canal; several in Panama and some through Nicaragua where a simpler route might have taken a canal through the San Juan River on to Lake Cocibolca where a small excavation to Lake Managua would have left just 15 miles to cut through to the Pacific. The final decision was largely political and some portions of Nicaragua were actually bought up to prevent a French Canal Company using that easier route.

The French engineer Ferdinand de Lesseps who had just completed the Suez Canal was contracted to construct the Panama Canal, a company was duly formed and a team of engineers recruited. After de Lesseps's success at Suez, obtaining funding was no problem. A map at the museum shows the size of the prize, displaying some of the trade routes that benefit from the canal, rather than taking the extra 8,000 mile voyage around South America....

The French started building in 1881 and it was a disaster, Following the Suez model they planned to build at sea level, arrogantly smashing their way through anything and everything in their path. Unlike Suez the rainy season in Panama is savage and heavy rainfall simply filled the excavations as quickly as the steam shovels could make them. Landfalls were a daily occurrence and 22 000 people died from accidents, yellow fever and malaria. De Lesseps hid the bulk of the problems from investors whilst continually returning to them for more money. Engineers begged him to reconsider building a lock system and finally walked off the project when he obstinately refused to consider anything other than the sea level canal.

Finally the project went bankrupt in 1889 causing stock markets to crash around the world. De Lesseps died not long after, a broken man.

Nothing else happened until the Americans bought the concession from the French in 1903, however Columbia objected (Panama was part of Columbia at the time) so Panama declared independence backed by US money and a couple of US battleships. A treaty was signed that gave Panama it's independence and the US sovereign rights over the canal and land 8km either side of it – effectively splitting Panama in two!

The Americans more sensibly decided to put in a series of locks rather than making the canal all one level so they didn't have to excavate so deeply. Also medical advances had now discovered how malaria and yellow fever were spread so they took 4,000 men off the project to improve sanitation and help wipe out the breeding zones of the mosquitos. They successfully eradicated Yellow Fever from the whole of Panama – a legacy that remains to this day!

Still 6 000 people died during the construction, 80% of whom were Afro-Caribbean as they were housed in worse conditions than the white labourers from Europe who in turn were housed in worse conditions than the American engineers! The canal was finally completed in 1914. The first boat to sail through was a lowly tug-boat on August 15th 1914.

OK, long winded introduction over....

Armed with a bit of history we take a mad dash through Panama City traffic on the bikes for the 10 miles or so to the “Miraflores Locks” passing the old railway station on route....

As luck would have it there is a giant “Pana-Max” size car carrier lumbering up the canal and we manage to overtake it before it gets to the locks. Pana-Max is a specification for the largest ship that can fit through the locks and has become an international standard for ship builders wanting to use the canal.

We head out on to the viewing gallery to get a sight of the massive lock gates holding back tons of fresh water used to raise ships 54 feet to the level of Gatun Lake. Two workers stand by these giant gates to provide scale across from the control building....

I won't bore you with any more details except that in a space of around 15 minutes this enormous ship is raised upwards and passes through the 66 feet high gates which open to lie flush against the canal edge. The ship powers forward, guided by eight “mules” that run on rails and keep the ship safe from collision using huge steel chains before being raised again in the second lock....

You can see just how much the ship rises by looking at the name “Wallenius Wilhelmsen” painted on the side. A massive crane “Titan” looks on as the ship passes. This mighty lifter floats on a pontoon and can be used to raise the lock gates in and out for maintenance....

We decide to race the Wilhelmsen up canal to the next set of locks at Pedro Miguel and on to the famous Gaillard Cut where engineers channelled this waterway through a massive slice in the hillside.

Pedro Miguel locks are less impressive and hard to see from the road so we carry on to “Centenario Bridge” built over the canal at Gaillard.

The bridge itself is impressive, but unfortunately there are “No Stopping” signs along it's length. I decide that they can't possibly apply to bikes so I can get some photos of the monumental effort involved to move a mountain at “The Gaillard Cut”. It is an awesome sight looking down on a man made canyon 1800 feet wide at the top and 155 feet deep. Huge excavators look like tiny dots on the valley floor....

I just manage to spot our boat the Wilhelmsen dawdling towards us as we return along the other side of the bridge when the police politely ask me to “shift it” and I am forced to leave the bridge....

The scale of the project is immense and we haven't even seen the largest of the three locks that lie 35 miles away on the Caribbean side, nor the giant Gatun Lake that was created by damming and flooding a 164 square mile area of land. At the time it was by far the largest man-made lake and it still provides all the water supply not just for the canal, but for drinking water and hydro power as well. It is just a stunning achievement when you consider Panama was effectively sliced in two and flooded to allow these mighty ships to pass across a country. It's even more impressive when you think it was all done with steam and muscle power.

In stark contrast we head further into the canal zone to the Summit Botanical Garden and Zoo. Summit was established to help introduce new tropical plants and animals to Panama, but also to help The US military to identify species they would encounter here in the field.

A beautiful King Vulture....

A Keel Billed Toucan.....

Whilst most of the animals look in good condition, their behaviour suggests their boredom, caged as they are in too small enclosures....

This magnificent (unnamed) cat is wildly aggressive, charging the confines of it's area and snarling at passers by....

We have seen plenty of spider monkeys at play in their natural habitat and they are an energetic and social animal. It's just too depressing to see this kind of graphic display of hopelessness so we leave and head back to the city....

The Many Faces of Panama City

August 14th to 18th

We pause after crossing the Bridge of the Americas to calm ourselves – it's was a pretty hairy ride....

We want to stay in the old town and the road to Casco Viejo takes us through an overpopulated slum area and the locals tell us to “ride fast, don't stop”; excellent advice.

Panama City has a long history, and over time, has evolved into a real mixture. In the 16^th Century, it was a massively important port where Spanish silver plundered in the high Andes of Peru was off-loaded before the arduous 50 mile trek overland to Portobello. From here ships could make their way over the Atlantic and back to Spain with their treasure. This route saved thousands of dangerous miles navigating Cape Horn around the Southern tip of Argentina and formed the route map for the famous Panama Canal that was to come 400 years later.

Originally Panama was located 5 miles East of the present centre and was relocated when it was sacked by Henry Morgan, a swashbuckling Welsh privateer tempted by all that Andean silver in 1671. The city was rebuilt within strong defensive walls to dissuade Henry and his marauding mates from returning – hence the name “Casco Viejo” which means “Old Compound”.

As a consequence of all the trade passing through, beautiful colonial style buildings were constructed and the town gained a certain grandeur reflected in the water front housing....

And also the incredible plazas with ornate statuary and the grand 'Hotel Colonial'...

This statue in 'Plaza de la Independencia' represents the signing of the treaty allowing Panama it's independence after separating from Colombia in 1903.

These are the grand bits. Much of the rest of Casco Viejo is a dilapidated collection of disused relics that are slowing turning to rubble under the destructive attention of weeds and tree roots.

Squatters openly occupy many of the buildings and you can see bare wires spliced into the street lamps that illegally power flickering TV's that illuminate the gloom of derelict buildings at night....

It's a slightly surreal vision; some kind of dystopian future where a great wrong has come to pass and a lone face stares from a tattered upstairs windows. He surveys the scene like a Charlton Heston figure in the Omega Man - “The last man”. Maybe that's going a bit far, but walking through this rotting capital city does conjure up that illusion.

Today many of the buildings are undergoing redevelopment or are about to as money floods back into this quarter of the city. Others sadly will just rot into dust and crumble leaving toothless gaps between the newly renovated bars and restaurants.

Across the bay you can see where the money and the developers are coming from. After gaining full control of the Panama Canal from the US in 2000, Panama has been booming and both local and foreign money has poured in.

Like a mirage rising across the bay to taunt the dregs that scratch a living over here, a new city has risen – newer and more sparkly than could ever have been imagined 20 years ago....

Boats in the harbour at low tide look as if they attempted an impossible voyage to this gleaming new world; but were stranded in futility....

Whilst a machine operator seems to stop and survey the transformation he has wrought....

Running between the old and new cities is Avenida Central, a pedestrianised shopping district that does more than just connect these two locations geographically. It seems to connect them in time, having a distinctly modern Central American feel that allows you to transition from a Colonial era of conquistadors and galleons of plundered silver to the space age of towering glass and steel....

It's typically bustling, chaotic, raucous and energetic. Music assaults the ears from wide open shop fronts. Street vendors distract to attract your attention. The sweet smell of the juice blenders mixes with the meaty aroma of the hot dog carts. A blast of cold air freezes you as you pass an upmarket clothes shop, then the warm wet tropical air envelops you once more as you move on.

Locals huddle in corners around squares of cardboards – arenas for dice and cards. Friendly, they call you over and encourage you to lose a dollar or two. More serious are the homemade boards of chess or checkers with coloured pieces taken from different soda bottle tops....

Roads seem to have just been laid down on top of each other - anyplace there was room and traffic is 'entertaining'....

Then, suddenly you are in Miami!

Dropping down to the newly formed boulevard you could be forgiven for thinking that a short walk had taken you across a continent. When was the last time I saw a roller blader in Central America, or a cycle path back-dropped by a glass skyline....

The new city is distinctly aspirational, with upmarket car dealerships and million dollar penthouses.

Entry level apartments with low level city views still command $200,000 price tags – an astronomical sum for Panamanians and quite a bit for ex-pats too. I can't help feeling that there is a bit too much optimism crackling in the air and that a developer somewhere is going to take a haircut now that the spray of foreign money has dried up a bit.

But then, what do I know. The building continues apace. Another 3,000 dreams of fine living reach for the skies....

Across the bay, far out to sea, the great Pana-Max cargo ships stack up in a queue all waiting to push through “The Canal” - the engineering marvel that is the lifeblood of this hungry city. Like a slow motion parody of airliners circling a busy airport they wait for their call....

Each will pay on average a quarter of a million dollars to pass through to the Caribbean and on to the Atlantic and I can see maybe 30 of them. Queues are long as that $250,000 is cheap compared to the 3 weeks of ship time saved by rounding Cape Horn; so the canal runs at breaking capacity. A national referendum gave an almost unanimous backing to ambitious expansion plans that allow this waterway to take ever more gargantuan ships. Building work is already underway to update this 100 year old superstructure and this important revenue stream should increase if all goes to plan.

Maybe, just maybe the property developers here have got it right and each of those new homes in the sky will find a deep-pocketed buyer. There is a contagious confidence in the air and this is definitely a place to return to in a few years to see how the story unfolds....

The Pan American Highway

August 4th to 14th

We make full use of the hotel facilities before heading out. Normally we have to carry the bikes and kit down flights of stairs....

With some trepidation, we leave David; Panama's second city. The next 450kms (280 miles) of our journey will take us along the notorious Pan-American highway – there are simply no other roads across Panama. Reports from previous cyclists talk of the dizzying heat, the noisy monotonous traffic, narrow sections of nasty pot-holed road surface and above all, the chaotic driving - all horn's blaring as you are physically driven off the road.

Sounds like fun....

We head out past rows of depressingly Americanised strip malls and burger joints - “where convenience meets global blandness”. Once past the city limits though, things become authentically Central American once more.... except maybe, for the baseball cap and Wellington boots that is....

The Pacific coast has a reputation for being hotter than the Caribbean side and I can vouch for that. It's an airless and boiling heat that bounces like an invisible force from the black Tarmac. It rolls in torrid waves from the overheated engines that often pass too close to us. Ironically, only the biggest lorries give us space to breathe as we cross one of a hundred similar river bridges....

This is the kind of riding we try to avoid when we can by taking the more scenic, less trafficked back roads. This is hamster-wheel cycle-touring - just turning the pedals and getting the job done. In addition to the heat and traffic, the land refuses to lie flat and it's a never ending sequence of short frustrating ups and downs that drain energy and rhythm. We overnight in San Felix that provides a cheaper alternative to the tourist beaches of Las Lucas.
It's raining anyway.

Next morning we rise at 5am to do battle once more and slip into the routine we repeat for the next few days. Dawn start, hamster wheel dash, traffic, heat, rolling terrain and endless blaring horns. Towards the end of the day, skies darken and the heat of the day is beaten back by an avalanche of rain that often arrives, then stops as if by the flick of a switch.

Looking back as the clouds recede like a drawn curtain of black velvet, or a stage prop on wheels being removed....

Incredibly there are no hotels on the Pan-am highway outside of major towns. We cover 125kms from San Felix to Santiago and feel char-broiled by the time we arrive after 10 hours in the saddle.

Fortunately, as we get nearer Panama City there are more and more towns and we are able to drop short in Aguadulce the next day rather than tackle another 125kms to Penonome in the heat. The short day gives us time feed and water ourselves and to give the bikes some much needed attention.

Sue is becoming an ace mechanic....

After another hot, uneventful day we reach Penonome and Sue is not feeling too well. Lukily I manage to strike a fantastic deal in a hotel that looks way too good for us – they even have an aquarium in the lobby. We get a huge air conditioned room for $25 which is a steal at around half normal price and we hole up for three days of groaning at the luxurious Hotel Guacamaya....

We had planned to climb into the mountains to El Valle which is described as a quaint little mountain getaway with serene walks and fine views. We're a bit surprised when we start seeing giant billboards advertising the place every mile or so for 20 miles before the turn off. Me thinks it is not so undiscovered and pristine as they had lead us to believe. Prices are also rising fast as we get closer as we find out at a small dingy hotel above a petrol station asking $33 for a room nothing like Guacamaya. Rooms 2kms off the highway by the surf beaches are going for $65 – we paid less than that is San Francisco, California!

Camping sounds like a better option at $10 until we learn we can't pitch the tent until 6pm and must pay a $15 day entry fee. It is starting to look like El Valle was once a quiet little mountain town, but the whole area is now big business - an impression that is not dissuaded by the huge billboards offering credit at the road junction....

We ride on looking for better deals, when we hit the biggest storm so far!

It's torrential! Massive raindrop sting the face and eyes and we are struggling to see anything through a wall of water. Within minutes our front tyres are pushing a bow wave before us and the roads are 6 inches deep and flowing fast. Even car drivers are starting to pull over as water logged windscreens cannot be cleared fast enough. Obstacles and pot holes are invisible beneath the moving liquid surface; a point I prove in spectacular fashion, by pulling off the road and hitting a submerged kerbstone. The bike and I land in a river of water a foot deep and my bags fly off the bike and float away. Skin is removed from knees and elbows and worst of all my handlebar bag flies open and scoops us a giant gob of water. Luckily my passport and maps also float! My camera, Mp3 player and wallet do not.

The storm is in for the day and we get a very large slice of luck on hearing there is a hotel just 200m up the road. We trudge up to the gate and our hearts sink as it's an amazing old house, lovingly renovated; obviously by a ex-pat. This is going to cost us but we have no choice as the roads are chaos and it's waaaaay too dangerous to carry on.

The drunken owner staggers to the gate and drags us in offering us a beer. She's a smiling Canadian, obviously amused at our bedraggled state and happy to have new drinking buddies. The place is amazing with gardens, a restaurant and bar area, views of the mountains from our balcony and a (quite unnecessary) swimming pool. The owner 'Lily' normally charges $45 but she takes pity on us and charges just $35. We're really grateful as she could have said $70 and we'd have had to pay it. Thanks Lily....

Apparently we've passed some invisible line in Panama where it all becomes retirement places and condos by the sea and it costs serious money! We inspect the damage left by the river in my handlebar bag and somehow the camera and MP3 player have survived. My passport looks a little more colourful now where all the inks have run but it's still intact.

Finally we climb over the last set of hills past 'Capira' and reach the outskirts of Panama City.

Amazing steel statues welded from scrap at a roadside artisan's workshop....

It's the final mad dash as traffic reaches attack speed down the hill as it filters towards the 'Bridge of the Americas' over the Pacific entrance to the Panama Canal. Officially we are not allowed to cycle on the bridge, so we run the gauntlet of traffic fully expecting to be stopped by the police. What happens after that we don't know, but as it turns out, we never find out.

For once I can understand why cyclists are discouraged from crossing. The bridge is narrow, there is nowhere to go to get away from traffic, the edge of the road is strewn with debris, traffic moves at blistering speed and the whole thing shakes under the weight of it all.

We get our first glimpse of the dazzling sky-scrapers of the new city of Panama that is springing up around the bay. Panama is a city of contrasts – old colonialism rubbing shoulders with modern glass and steel and entering by bicycle over the famous canal is a major landmark for this tour....