NOTE: SADLY, FOR SOME UNKNOWN REASON, BLOGGER DELETED ALL THE PICTURES ON THIS POST.

Villa Palma Boutique Hotel
No other trip in our time as nomads has taken us to such highs and lows as Panama.
We began the journey in Panama City, staying in a darling hotel in Casco Viejo, the old quarter built in 1673 after the original city was burnt to the ground. The Governor had it set on fire when he got word pirates were coming to attack and loot it. That's one way to spite your enemies.

Casco Viejo
We visited the remains of the original city, now a World Heritage Site, with Carlos, our guide. He was the first of many amazing people we'd meet in Panama, a highlight of our time there.

Carlos & me
Originally from Venezuela, Carlos is a single dad to two teens boys. I was amazed by his resourcefulness. During the pandemic his tour guide business tanked so he started cooking and selling food to neighbors. He did some legal consulting work, and he recently became a day stock trader. He pulls together all of this employment to support his family and so that his kids can go to a private school and play club-level soccer.

Screw Tower
His knowledge of the city was mind-boggling. When we drove around, he pointed out the wacky design of one high rise called Screw Tower, which he joked houses lawyers. We also saw the financial district, toured the high-end Jewish area that housed descendants of many who escaped the horrors of Europe, and crossed the Bridge of the Americas for lunch on the peninsula. Later, at the Panama Canal, we watched the technological marvel of a ship coming through the locks.

the canal
Carlos pointed to a statue depicting Panamanian students who pulled down an American flag and put up a Panamanian flag in protest of the occupation. One was shot and killed, and that sparked deeper sentiment to oust the U.S. military. It took another forty years, but the U.S. finally ceded its massive landholds that had excluded Panamanians, including high-end properties and even the first McDonald's that allowed only U.S. citizens.

Lots of murals everywhere
I asked Carlos how the U.S. could have done better, and he said investing in the Panamanian economy and integrating into its society over their 80 years in the country. I hadn't realized that part of the U.S. military agreement to exit included dismantling the Panamanian military. So everyone we saw in a uniform was some version of police, not military...even those guarding the President who lived down the street from our hotel. In return, the U.S. agreed to have Panama's back in any conflict. Let's hope that is lived up to if, god forbid, it is ever needed.

Panama City skyline from Casco Viejo
I love meeting world citizens and learning about their lives...and soon had another opportunity. At a restaurant eating breakfast, we chatted with the only other guests, two women with an adorable toddler.
The mother is a 32-year-old German who has lived most of her life in the U.S. In her early twenties she worked as a cocktail waitress to save up money to travel the world for four months before entering medical school. Now she was a traveling M.D. who went all over the world to practice. Two years earlier, she got medically inseminated and became pregnant on her first try.
The other young woman was her au pair from South Africa. She does MMA (mixed martial arts), bakes wedding cakes, models part time, draws animation, has exquisite tats, and has volunteered as a teacher for street kids. She loves traveling so this was the perfect job for her.

about to land at Bocas del Toro
Soon it was time to head to our first housesit, so we boarded a small plane that took us on the one-hour flight to Bocas del Toro, an island archipelago on the Caribbean. While we waited for our luggage at the tiny airport, a local guy played the guitar and sang "Don't Worry, Be Happy" and other island-inspired songs.
The homeowner, Carmen, gave us the biggest heart-hug I've even gotten from someone I'd met only by text. We followed her through the dusty streets of Colon, the central of nine main islands that make up Bocas del Toro. Most of the islands are car-free. I liked the feeling that I was plopped down into a completely new world, where people speaking a melodic Patois sold fried chicken and empanadas and meandered around on bikes and by foot.

You can see the house we stayed in nearly hidden in the palms.
Carmen, who is Dutch, led us to a dock, where we boarded a boat for the 15-minute ride to Bastimentos Island, our home for the next month, caring for two loveable dogs, Stormy and Thunder.

Stormy on the dock
Carmen and Marcel's place is a BnB with several rooms and their own open-air home with a big kitchen where Carmen whipped up delicious food. Her culinary skills were the highlight of the five-star TripAdvisor reviews I'd read. Usually we secure sits through a website, but in this case I'd posted about us on a Facebook page featuring Bocas del Toro housesits...and a few days later a Carmen had contacted me.

exploring Colon

Renting power-assist bikes made for a fun day.
We'd been excited about the idea of living on an island--and indeed, the place had warm turquoise waters, palms trees, the works. However, challenges immediately became apparent. That night we found it hard to sleep in the humid heat with no A/C or a circulating fan, unsupportable in this off-grid place run on solar. While I worried about my ability to adapt, I tried to focus on the adventure of it all. Sitting in their home overlooking the dock and watching a spectacular sunset, my inner kid got a little giddy at the notion of living in the Swiss Family Robinson treehouse with a dock where we could jump in the kayak and go snorkeling at nearby reefs.

Unreal colors
I admired Carmen and Marcel's ability to relax into island life as lived by the locals. They were around our age but totally adapted to things that were a steep learning curve for us, such as walking the dogs on narrow, steep and often slippery pathways; handling all the house systems and their backups; and making meals from limited available foods. We also soon learn we'd have to try to sleep with late-night night party music blasting from the other side of the island.

Swiss Family Robinson-esque
In our few days together, the hosts generously fed us, showed us all the important details (such as propping up a flag at the end of the dock to signal a water taxi to come get us) and took us out to dinner one night on Colon with ten of their good friends. There we met the owners of the Floating Bar, and another couple who picked us up every Monday in their boat to take us there for live music.

Laura, the Floating Bar owner, jumping into the Caribbean Sea.
What a cool scene, to be dancing with a crew of Panamanians, expats and travelers then, hot and sweaty, jumping into the sea. I also attended a few morning yoga sessions at the Floating Bar.

Floating Bar band
Because Bocas del Toro was a happening tourist spot, there were many kinds of restaurants on Colon, including a delicious Chinese place run by Chinese immigrants, as were the grocery stores. Hearing them speak Mandarin flooded me with memories of our time in Nanning, and I greeted the cashiers with a smiling nihao.
We also found several places that served delectable whole fried fish. However, prices weren't what I'd call low...and getting to these places required paying a water taxi $5 per person each way.
Through our online groups, we discovered another nomadic couple from the U.S. housesitting the next island over. We ended up spending some wonderful days with Sarah and Jimmy, going out on boats to explore Red Frog Beach and the remote Zapatilla Islands, the definition of paradise with pure white sand and swimmable turquoise waters.

On one of our adventures.

On the way to Zapatilla, a glimpse of which is in the distance.

Sloth!
We loved the Bocas boating life, the people we met, our time in the water, the creatures we saw. We agreed we would return if we had a place where we could retreat from the elements. The off-grid rain forest island life was sublime yet physically demanding and could be mitigated with a sealed, cool room to retreat and rest.
For our next sit we headed to Playa Morrillo, on the Pacific side of the country, taking a four-hour bus ride from Panama City to Santiago and were picked up by Gisela, the Swiss homeowner--and once again I was struck by how cool it is to meet a virtual stranger whose life we'd be living.

kale and lettuce, freshly picked
She took us grocery shopping in the city, encouraging us to stock up because we'd be spending six weeks at their home in Punta Duarte, nearly two hours away on mostly bumpy dirt roads, and food acquisition would be limited with two small grocery stores and a produce stand. There were a few restaurants, mostly small local places called fondas, which served meat or fish, rice, beans and plantains. We also met a guy who cut greens directly out of his garden to sell. What a character. He toured us around his property and chatted for so long that a trip to get veggies took nearly two hours.

View from patio off living room.
The house was a stunner. It had a huge kitchen and living room with plate glass windows that overlooked the yard and pool--and, thank god, fans and AC. In fact, our hosts insisted we run the AC in the main house and the three casitas for several hours most days to keep the mold away.
Most days we hiked to the beach with the dogs and trudged back up steep and slippery terrain, stripping off our clothes and diving in the pool. Cheers to no visible neighbors! The gardener who came every week didn't touch the pool or mow, so pool and lawn maintenance were left up to Dave. Similar to the Bocas couple, this couple was about our age and hearty as hell. In spite of the AC, living there and taking care of our tasks was like pounding out hours at the gym every day.

Loved this daily beach walk with the dogs.
Dave and I talked about how every time we do a housesit there's an adjustment to the pets, neighborhood, house, location--which can be fun and stimulating, but also demanding. Both of our housesits in Panama turned out to require significant adjustments and more work and discomfort than we'd been prepared for due to their off-grid natures in humid environments. Living off-grid in Central America is peaceful yet it's not for wimps.
In the thick atmosphere and howler monkeys eerily baying in the trees, it felt like being on another planet. At times I'd be walking alone through the jungle then emerge at a secluded beach and feel like I was the only person left in the world.

One of the many creature sightings.
Twice a week Dave got up at 6:30 a.m. to pick up the house cleaner and then return her a few hours later, a 45-minute ride down rutted roads each way. The homeowners left the money for her pay and gas, and we appreciated having a clean home. Also, she was a lovely woman, and I liked speaking Spanish to her because she'd correct me when I said things wrong.

howler monkey
But the first day Dave got in the car to pick her up, it wouldn't start. The truth about living in the rain forest: the climate breaks things. Fortunately, we were able to borrow a car from Roger, the neighbor who, with his pack of dogs, was often the only other one at the beach. While we were grateful to have a vehicle, this was his beater car, an SUV with mold-eaten interior. It was like sitting inside rotting walnut.

jungle walk
Once we were driving with Beto, the gardener, in a downpour and the windshield wipers stopped, blinding us to the road. Beto told us to stop at a road crew construction site where he spoke rapidly in Spanish to a guy who dismounted from a tractor. It took him five minutes to fix our wipers, and he wouldn't take the money we offered. Later when we passed another road crew, I asked Beto if those guys were also his friends. He laughed and said, yes, they all were!

Parrots hung out near the house.
And then guess what happened? We caught Covid. Ironic that we'd contract it in one of the most isolated places we'd ever been. Must have happened at the tiny grocery store with dusty shelves. While we miserably nestled in bed, the dogs had to walk themselves (owner-approved) and returned looking like mud mummies. Had I mentioned it was the rainy season?

With Roger, may he rest in peace.
Fortunately, a week later we were back to our chores, sweaty walks, and heavenly pool swims. But then the unthinkable happened. We went to return Roger's car, only to discover he'd died the day before after having had back surgery in Panama City. Stunned, we thought about how life can change dramatically in one breath.
I thought about all the people we'd met in Panama, and all across the globe on our journeys. Even though he left this plane, Roger would always be part of our web of connection.
***
Have a look at the video interview we did with Travel Live Learn:
House sitting in retirement – 9 years of freedom! - YouTube
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PS: Books make great holiday gifts!
Call it Wonder: An Odyssey of Love, Sex, Spirit & Travel (award-winning memoir)
For the May Queen (coming of age in the dorms in 1980, with lots of sex, drugs & rock n roll)
Complementary Colors (what happens when a straight woman falls in love with a lesbian)
Revolutionary Kiss, co-authored with Mary Janelle Melvin under the name Mary Kate Summers (love story set during the French Revolution)
