Day 4—Really? Until 3 am! Really? Oh, and Happy Father’s Day

So last night sucked.  I don’t know where it was coming from, but there was live, LOUD music playing until about 3 am! Luckily I slept through most of it, but when I woke at 2, it was sooo loud that I couldn’t fall back asleep.  Really? I am now very grateful for some our over-legislated lives in the US, because that kind of shit doesn’t happen there (OK it does, but it doesn’t last as long without cops intervening)! But here, it’s a never ending fiesta! Geez…Despite that annoying interlude, I woke up early and made coffee.  There was a tiny bit of sun trying to squeeze through the clouds.  You could tell it was going to be a much nicer day.  I sat on the patio, and took in the beauty that is Panama.  The crashing sound of the waves, the different calls of birds, and the love and affection of the sweetest, ugliest, feral cat I have ever seen.  The land lord warned us not to feed this cat, but he is beginning to tug at the heartstrings.  He looks like a shaved, Paleo Fritz.  Emma has named him Meow Mix.

 Meow Mix has a wife it turns out.   Ok, she is even uglier!

I'm pretty sure cats are not supposed to have cheekbones

We named this one Cat Moss. We’ve been told that Meow Mix and Cat Moss have two offspring.  We have only caught the briefest glimpse of one of them. There is a little white one, with a few calico patches, that looks like a tiny little bunny rabbit.  (Never mind, I got a closer look, it looks like a monkey and a cat mated, so named it Cat Monkey). 

After coffee, I started to rouse the hubs and the girl to walk on the beach.  After A LOT of complaining from the girl, we walked the beach and it was lovely.  We checked out the fish co-op, which is apparently closed on Sundays (or Father’s Day, who knows), as was the rustic restaurant on the beach.  We definitely plan to go back when they are open.  The sand was wonderfully soft, and easy to walk on.  The ocean’s warm and calm.  The tide was out, and the break seemed a little dangerous, but there was one guy swimming in the ocean, so it was probably safe.  Everyone else (about 10 people on a Sunday morning) seemed to just be hanging out on the beach.  There were no towels or umbrellas or coolers.   Beach life seems very different here than on the east and west coasts, and Hawaii.  Cars can drive on the beach, which is little weird to me, but I suppose there are advantages.  After walking on the beach, we showered and headed to Coronado for a McDonald’s breakfast.  (OK, seriously, stop judging me Julie and Rick!) The funny thing is there were only a couple of people at McDonalds and it took us probably 20 minutes to get our breakfast.  They clearly do not have things worked out yet, but it tasted good, and cost about the same as in America.  We got a lot of looks from the locals.  I thought with all the expats down in Panama we would be invisible, but not so.  We are traveling with a lovely 13 year, who happens to have rubio (blond) hair, and I’m wondering if she isn’t the target of the stares.  At least they are not overtly rude or cat-calling her.  Also, she is with her parents, so maybe that is why they are leaving her alone.  

We decided to head up to El Valle.  Sean heard there was market there on Sunday mornings.  So off we went, winding, winding our way up the mountain.  When we finally got there, Emma was car sick, and I was wondering where all the expats were?  As far as I could tell, there were only Panamanians around going about their business.  I sort of felt like an intruder, and we really didn't know where to stop or park, and as there was tons of traffic, and pedestrians, and bicyclists, we couldn't find our way anywhere.  We stopped, and talked about going the “zoo”, but Emma was feeling too ill to do anything, so we turned around and headed back down the mountain.  El Valle is beautiful--very lush, and tropical, and much cooler than sea level.  I was still on the look-out for good coffee, so we stopped at a gourmet Coffee shop.  It turned out to be a Panamanian Starbucks of sorts.  There were no beans for sale, just super overpriced candy ($2.50 for a Hersey’s Bar).  Clearly this was a tourist stop. The grounds were quite serene and lovely, but all the seating was wet from the rain storm we encountered on our way up the slopes.  Sean ordered a coffee (which he ended up throwing away because it was so bad) and I got Emma a bottle of water.   We did pass by a spot that I think was the crafts market, but it looked too small.  Perhaps it went back a ways.  Anyway, I am not all that interested in buying brightly colored “crafts” from anywhere in the world.  I’m a taupe, black, and white kinda gal. 

When we got back to Coronado, I was determined to find the groceries we would need to cook at the condo for the next couple of days.  First we went the 99 store, which Sean had scoped out and declared to be more like an American Store.  So we went in and boy was it crowded. All the registers had lines going up the isles.  We started at the meat end.  Nothing was really prepackaged, and there were hoards of people with numbers waiting to get service. Mostly what they have is chicken, lots and lots of chicken parts. Then we went to the cheese section.  They really like “American” cheese products here.  Real cheeses, like cheddar and jack, etc. were really hard  to find.  There was also a whole freezer section of ready-made food (from America).   It just seems to me we are exporting all of our worst habits, and none of the really good food that is available in America.  Again I tried to find a familiar, decent wine, but wine just isn’t very big here. (The Argentinian wine was OK, not great).  Beer and Seco are, and they are cheap.  But I will continue on my quest for a good, cheap wine.  We did find some meat .  We got 3 steaks (I really couldn’t tell you the cut) but they looked good (for $5!) and a lb. of hamburger (for $2.98 lb.) But when I went to find produce, all of the produce was cellophane wrapped and looked positively anemic.  So I insisted we run over to the Rey to get some wine, and veggies.  They had a fairly nice selection.  I got a couple of decent tomatoes, some sad iceberg lettuce, and (I had to ask which it was) some Yucca.  We are planning on having hamburgers tonight.  All and all the shopping trip was successful.

The condo we are staying at, as I mentioned is lovely.  The owners had the interior custom finished when it was built so the floors are black slate.  The walls are white stucco, with amazing, custom hardwood doors throughout.  The kitchen has a cream colored marble counter, and there is a cooktop, a toaster oven, and a microwave.  The stainless steel fridge is small, but fits what we need.  In the bedroom there is a king sized comfortable bed, and a big screen T.V.  Both the bedroom and the living room have separate air conditioners.  They both work great, but we are trying to only run them at night to save on power. 

There are two terraces.  The one right off the living area has an amazing view of the ocean, and you can hear the waves crashing on the beach.  The other terrace has a table and chairs to eat at, and also has a view of the ocean.  There is even a little manicured lawn, and beautiful landscaping.

Paradise you say…yeah, but wait there’s more.  It turns out that this unit is but one of three that are crowded on the owners little plot, and the owner lives here.  Wow, not exactly what I was expecting.  I would call this place only semi-private.  Also, the owner sold the unit underneath his (which is right behind ours), to a person named David, who is subletting to Ernesto and Simone.  It’s like one big happy family.  Except, not exactly what I expected. 

We all met each other in the pool.  Ernesto is Panamanian.  Simone, his wife, is Romanian.  Ernesto is a chef on Norwegian Cruise Lines.  So I was asking how to cook a yucca, and Simone says, “I have a chef! He will tell you."  Later in the conversation Moti  mentioned that he had some really good sausage for them to try.  So Simone says (In her adorable Romanian accent, “You have the Sausage, you have the yucca, and we have the (something I could quite hear), we will get together and have dinner.  I honestly thought it was all talk, or if she meant it, she meant at a later date.  So we went about our business, grilling (well, the grill went out, so pan frying) hamburgers. We ate dinner, and were just relaxing in the bedroom, when Moti comes banging on the bedroom sliding glass door (ever hear of privacy buddy?). “Where’s the Yucca?”  Geez, they meant it! And they meant TONIGHT….awkward!  So I got them my pathetic little yucca (I only bought one because I wanted to make sure I could cook it before I bought more.) The landlord asks, “ You haven’t eaten yet have you ?” (Hello? Weren't you the guy who was was trying to help us fix the grill as we were making dinner a short time back? (weird).  We replied, “Why yes we have. Sorry, we didn’t know you meant tonight.”  He looked surprised, and then I said one of the dumber things I have ever said—because I am always embarrassed that we eat dinner at 5:30ish—I said, “Remember, we are on San Francisco time. “ (Really? Because that would mean you three losers ate dinner at 3:30 IN THE AFTERNOON!  That doesn’t even make sense!) But if he was able to do the math (which clearly I wasn’t) he didn’t let on, and just sort of joined Simone and Ernesto.  I was disappointed at our misunderstanding, because how cool to have a chef cook for you, and there was so much laughter and revelry coming from the next patio, that I was kicking myself for  missing the opportunity. 

Ah, but guess what made up for all of that...there are fireflies here! I am so excited.  Just like when I was 26 and saw them for the first time in Pennsylvania, I thought someone had a flashlight in the bushes, and then I realized: FIREFLIES! I LOVE FIREFLIES! When I was little, I thought they were just something Disney made up,  like Tinkerbell. You know like at the Pirates of the Caribbean restaurant.  But they are REAL!!! And here is the sentry who makes the pool his pond every night.