Dave, Dave, Dave of the jungle. Strong as he can be. (Ahhhhhhhh) Watch out for that tree.
After a dip in the Pacific Ocean and watching the sun go down clutching a cold beer we wondered how so few food and accommodation places got it right. This one with location, location,,,,,,, is semi derelict, the woman is surly and the food marginal. Open sewers and rubbish don’t seem to discourage the locals though. But we are gone by 6 am and ding our last stretch of Pan Am highway turning off before “David” so our Dave doesn’t realise the town wasn’t named after him.
From 35 degrees to 25 in a short ride into the lush jungle clad hills and to a tourist spot, Boquete. we struggle to find a central place to stay with secure parking for the bikes, but eventually get lucky and settle in.
The Jungle Canope high wire tour is booked for early and it delivers. Edgy enough to make you feel nervous, the platforms suspended high up the trees don’t look compliant and we reach speed of up to 80km per hour. Your right hand in a leather glove extends behind your head and grips the wire,, and that is your brake. You squeeze to slow-down if you chicken out . Fantastic fun, we were the oldest of the group by many years.
Up through more banana plantations and lush jungle, bright birds and monkeys to the Carribean side of Panama. It get late so a dirty port town, with our bikes in a half constructed but secure restaurant we go for an evening stroll with ear deafening parrot noise, awful smelling drains and friendly folk. Smell has put me off dinner, just a beer will do me fine.
Jo
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