In the jungle, the mighty jungle...

After basking in the sun for 2 days, interrupted only by lazy dips in the ocean, I was fully relaxed and ready to explore the island. Rumor had it there was a chocolate farm on the other side of the island... what could be more heavenly! It was accessible one of two ways; walk the lovely, clearly marked path by which I arrived through the jungle and flag down a boat to take me to the dock on the other side of the island orrrrr I could try cutting across the island by hiking through the jungle that didn't exactly have a path. While I had read there had been frequent muggings around wizard beach which I would have to go through, I was not deterred. I'd been given the following directions, "walk as far as you can down the beach/ jungle, when you can't go any further, you'll see a blue hut on your left and that is where you'll find the path that leads across the island to the chocolate farm. Option two sounded way more fun, off I went. I reached the end of the beach but didn't see a blue hut or a path... must not have gone far enough because I definitely didn't miss anything blue. A couple kids with machetes, sure, but here I was covered in sweat without a purse or backpack, no one wanted to mess with me. I began to scale the cliffs that stood before me, tide must be in. Somehow I seem to end up scaling a cliff in every country I visit… The further I climbed, the larger the crabs grew and the longer the fall...  After 20 or so minutes of climbing, I could go no further by cliff, I grudgingly conceded. I retraced my steps thinking I must have passed the blue hut indicating the start of the trail, still nothing.

Mystified, I retreated to my peaceful oasis for another coconut in the hammock. I really don't even like chocolate I lied to myself... this is supposed to be a time of relaxation, not a reenactment of tarzan hacking through the jungle. 15 minutes later I could take it no more, I had to find that blue hut and the path I'd missed. I would take a boat to the chocolate and then hike the trail back so I could walk across the island at least one way. I flagged down a boat and ask him to take me to the other side of the island. As I get in, I realize,  I failed to get the name of  the chocolate farm and realized that I had no idea how to say chocolate in Spanish. What in the heck do I know how to say in Spanish? Seems like nothing practical, I add Spanish classes to my "when I returned home to do list". After some wandering, I did find the chocolate farm which by this point was closed with the exception of a small cafe. Who am I kidding, I didn't really want to go on a tour anyway, I just wanted the brownie and another cup of the rich Panamanian coffee I was developing an addiction to. A gently used lonely planet book beckoned me to give it a read while I ate and figure out how I was going to get to Costa Rica from here. Somehow, I ended up on the warning page about the muggings on Wizard beach again... maybe it's a sign I should take the boat back rather than hike through it?! The sun is starting to set... I ask the woman serving the brownies if the muggings were real. She said yes, but you don't have a bag, so I'm sure you'll be fine. "However," there it was, the dreaded however, "However" she cautioned, "it is a bit hard to find Red Frog beach because of the mud... you'd best get moving now before the sun goes down." She warned. "If you can't find your way, retrace your steps back to me." How sweet, if I get lost in the thick jungle filled with machete clad boys, I will try to remember which bamboo tree was west and which jaguar was east and I'll find my way right on back to you! I embarked upon what I was sure would be an easy hike. Look at that, clearly marked sign, clearly marked trail, no hay problemo! 

Whistling along I patted myself on the back for trying again, this would have driven me crazy years after I returned home. The jungle thickened, the sun lessened as did the path... Before long, there wasn't a path at all, just deep slippery mud, trees so thick I could barely continue to move forward, the sounds of large creatures coming to life and the occasional barefoot kid with a machete.... Don't panic, use your senses, listen for the ocean, try to find enough light to figure out what direction you're going. Wishing like I'd never before wished, my eagle scout husband was with me. This would be fun if I knew I wasn't going to get eaten by something twice my size for dinner or mugged by a kid half my size. Just when I started to let the panic set it, I heard the sound of distant crashing waves! YESSSS, Jason would be so proud of me I thought! I charged through the remaining trees that separated me from the ocean and ran straight into it, arms wide like I'd scored the winning touch down for the team. That was fun, I'm glad I did that, I thought. I'll have to find the guy that gave me the blue hut as a mile marker and let him know, that blue hut no longer exists. But yay me, I found my way home anyway! Skipping along, feeling as though I should probably be granted honorary eagle scout status myself, I began to notice the beach line was different than Red Frog Beach.... I didn't see any drift wood I recognized, or the look out point that should have been at the utmost tip of the beach. And the islands that I'd been staring at from my hammock contemplating trying to swim to, they were much further away now.... I'm at Wizard Beach I gasped out loud. There is was, now the panic had set it! The cliffs that had prevented me from getting from Red Frog to Wizard beach, once again presented themselves ominously before me. I had three options and had to think fast the sun was barely tucked above the horizon. #1, scale the cliffs, #2 swim far out around them. #3 go back into the jungle until I made it around the point. 

I knew from earlier in the day option #1 was wasn't going to work. Option #2 would have been great had I not brought my phone to take pictures. Ok so I didn't actually have three options, I had one. Option 3 it was... I dreadingly entered the dark jungle once more, trying to stay as close to the shore line as possible so I didn't loose sight of the ocean. As began to sink deeper and deeper into the mud, I was forced to go further and further inland towards drier ground. Slipping every step I took, clinging on to huge swinging vines to keep my balance, thanking God I wasn't on some reality TV show with a camera crew documenting my ridiculous moves. A left turn to get around a thick patch, a right turn to avoid a swamp and before I knew it, the ocean was in audible. I tried to move faster, wishing I had brought some chocolates for the road incase I ended up out here all night. Who am I kidding, I wouldn't survive a night in this jungle. Unless I made friends with a nice machete kid to help me fend off creatures and other machete kids .. where are those kids when I need them! Ayudame! Auydame! I'm pulling myself up hills and sliding down them, covered in mud trying to think happy thoughts. Just a word of wisdom if anyone is reading this, when you are alone and lost in the jungle and nightfall is moments away, do not think about anything except survival, there’s no time for happy thoughts! Before I knew it, I was sinking in mud. We used to play a game called quick mud as kids, what insensitive bastards we were! People like me could actually be drowning in quick mud in the jungle! I try to pull my feet out but the mud swallows my shoe. Nooooooo I scream, I can't make it through this without shoes! Frantically, I start to dig, panic laced sweat streaming down my cheeks as I notice there are other shoes around here. Oh no, what if the bodies got swallowed in the mud and their shoes floated back up... This can’t be happening to me! Obviously, since you’re reading this, I made it out alive, yay,  just “plain” mud. Whew, I've got my shoes and a vine to pull myself out.

Judging by what little light that remains, I’m certain I am still going northwest, I carry on unto I hear what is actually the most beautiful sound in the world; the waves of Red Frog Beach crashing on the shore. I shed a tear as I dive my mud covered body into the ocean steeling myself I wasn't actually lost in the jungle. As I skip down the beach to take my first shower in three days, I see nestled tightly into the jungle on my right, none other than the blue hut...

The path to the unknown- Panama

For the first time I can remember, I was heading to the airport scheming up a way to get out of my flight (without having to pay to change it.) I didn’t want to go. I had a million things going at home, I didn’t have time to go globe trotting. LA was cold and grey, but I wanted to be there. Jason had just given me a beach cruiser with gears so I could explore our new, very hilly neighbor, I’d just finished a 6 month stint of driving and working and working and driving.This was the first time in the 6 months we’d lived in this house, that I would actually be able to spend in it not hammering or staining or sanding and now I’m getting on a plane. Leaving my really nice husband, my new house, my 10,000 unfinished projects with a migraine the size of Russia... I was deep in the throws of post production when I booked this flight, wanting to get as far away from life for as long as possible. This is why I don't plan in advance! Now I'm driving to the airport at 5 am for a flight I could have sworn was at 6 PM, I would NEVER willingly book a 6am flight regardless of the pice. Bleary eyed, I’m apologizing profusely to my husband for jumping on a plane without him yet again, and missing valentines day; our first married Valentines day and I was missing it, I get the worst wife of the year award. And thanking him for the bike he gave me the day before that I hadn’t even ridden yet and back to apologizing to him for leaving him to water the plants and shipping the inventory I didn’t have time to send out. At the automated check in, up comes the question, “would you like to bump?” “HECK YES I WOULD LIKE TO BUMP!” Bump me to a week from today and re route me to Costa Rica where I'm meeting the girls for a 1/3 life crisis trip, I don’t even care about exploring Panama anymore. Thrilled to get out of this flight, I went to the gate to negotiate my voucher and was told they no longer needed volunteers to bump. So close I could almost feel my soft sheets welcoming me back! With a throbbing head ache, a sour attitude and no idea where I’m going once I land in Panama City, I board my flight. This migraine has killed my appetite for adventure. Altitude increases the pressure in my head until I’m convinced my brain will explode. Customs and immigration are horrendously slow, bright and loud. I finally make it into a cab, the only cabbie in Panama City that wants to chit chat in Spanish at 10pm. My spanish is horrible on a good day but on a day like today, I couldn't remember my own birthday, muchless the future tense. I'm cursing myself for not skipping the trip all together. 

The next morning I decide I’m going to fly to Bocas del Toro.

Bastimentos Island, Panama

Who cares if it’s touristy, it’s an island in the Caribbean for a fraction of the price! A stroke of good fortune, flights are almost the same price as buses and arrive 10 hours sooner, booked! I’m in desperate need of relaxation, the 4 day migraine leveled me. I’ll find somewhere off the beaten path. I hire a driver to take me to check out the canals and then to the airport. If you ever have a layover in Panama City, you have to check out the canals, they're ahhhmazing. Go to Mira Flores locks, you can watch ships pass there and it’s right by the domestic airport Albrook.


We land directly on the island of Bocas, OMG TOURISTY WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT! This is worse than Cancun. Tourist gift shops and women handing out fliers (in english) for night clubs saturate the streets. My hearts sinks, this is not what I was looking for. I wanted to swim through crystal clear waters without getting run over by a fishing boat and swing in a hammock to read my book. Determined to find somewhere less populated, I walked straight across the island and jump in the first boat I see. Bastimentos por favor? It’s another island I read about, 10 mins away and feels like another world! There is no town, just jungle and beach. According to Lonely planet there was an eco tent lodge on this Bastimentos island. I tried to reserve a tent online at the Albrook airport but it said it was full…. but it also said walk ins welcome… So I’m rolling the dice that maybe, just maybe they’re like a "hike and bike campground" where they reserve space for walk ins? It’s a stretch but I want it bad enough to wander through the thick jungle at dusk to ask. There’s a great path that I’m assuming must take me right to Palmar and sure enough, after about 15 minutes it does! Rehearsing my wording in Spanish, why don’t they teach phrases for these kinds of situations in spanish class?! “Hi, yes, I tried to reserve online but it said you didn’t have rooms available but I flew here anyway, took a boat over and now it’s getting dark so I sure hope you have a room so I don’t have to sleep in the jungle with the jaguars...” Fortunately for me, the owner happened to be there and happened to be American. Unfortunately for me, he informed me they were completely booked for the next three nights but if I followed a path further into the jungle, there was a hostel up there and they would probably have rooms. Totally crushed, this place was PARADISE. There were no buildings in sight, it was snuggly nestled between the jungle and the ocean, there was a thatched roof restaurant without walls that barefoot people lounged around in and sandy paths connecting all the tents to the beach where the water was pristine and hammocks proudly waited for weary travelers. 

Palmar tent lodge 

Disheartened, I began the trek to the hostel through the jungle. I’m 31, I’ve stayed in hundreds of hostels, no problem. However, I was recovering from serious physical, emotion and mental stresses and didn’t want to endure Panama, I wanted to relax and enjoy it... in a tent on the beach!!!! A concrete hostel in the jungle wasn’t going to provide that. Still in denial the tent lodge didn’t have room for me I decided to go back to Palmar and ask the great english speaking guy to help me flag down a boat to another island, then he’d have the opportunity to tell me they had a last minute cancelation and have a bed available for me! Palmar is the kind of place people spend their travels in search of. A laid back sort of commune in the jungle with tents that open to the beach and both fresh fish and yoga classes classes on the menu. It gets darker earlier in the jungle, the tree cover is so dense it blocks out the sun long before it actually goes down, I of course neglected to think of this minor detail before I set off through the jungle again. The buzz and rustle of jungle life swarming about me thickened with the onset of dusk. When I arrived back to Palmar, Aaron, the owner laughed and said exactly what I'd been hoping and praying he would say, "We’re so glad you came back! We might have a bed for you! We’re building a lodge in the back of the property, it’s not done yet, and we still need in during the day to work on it, but there is a bed in there you can sleep in if you don’t mind sleeping in a construction sight."

Mind sleeping in a construction site?! Puhhhlease, he should see the house we're living in while renovating! No I didn't mind! I knew I belonged here! My soul felt at ease here. Overjoyed to spend the next 3 days in paradise, I ditched my shoes, snagged a coconut and settled into a hammock to listen to the howler monkeys start their evening chant. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, thankful I got on the plane in spite of a migraine.

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Life's short, cram it

Life has been insanely hectic, (to put it mildly) hence my absence. Since I've last written, I rehabbed a house, took a 6 month producing gig that had me working all hours of the days and nights, designed a line of pillows with handwoven fabrics I discovered in Myanmar, started selling said pillows through my non profit organization One Life, made a trip back to Myanmar for more fabrics, took a ski trip to Telluride, got in two bike wrecks, got one concussion, landscaped the freshly rehabbed house, went to Costa Rica on a surfing/yoga trip with my college besties, slowly and steadily built my vintage wedding furniture rental business, celebrated the holidays with both sets of families and hiked through the jungles of Panama.  One of these days I'll finish writing about our honeymoon in Thailand, and our next stop, Myanmar (obsessed!) but I've noticed I'm not very good at the chronological thing. I've traveled a lot since my last post but haven't written about new adventures because I hadn't finished writing about the old ones. So from here forward, I'm going to post past, present and future trips as the memories and inspiration come to me. They'll all be mashed together, just like my life!:) Can't wait to tell you about paradise in Panama and my hunt for handwoven textiles in Myanmar.