Palmar paradise
We were definitely going to miss our shuttle. It was too quick of a turn-around to make it from the first water taxi to the final one that would carry us to Red Frog Beach. Courtney was silent and expertly buckled into her lifevest, suffering ‘nam flashbacks to a near-death-experince from her last boat trip in Bocas. Just before this, I had spent 45 minutes on a dock with rural Panamanian cell service trying to locate a nonexistent confirmation email for our hostel.
Things could have started a little smoother.
But what kind of story would that have made?
Everything worked out in the end, of course. The hostel confirmed our reservation just as we boarded the first water taxi. Our boat did not sink. We found a nice man with a colorful rinky-dink boat to shuttle us across the turquoise water.
If getting to Palmar Beach Lodge had been a little bumpy, then our time on the island was smoother than the ice in our beachside margaritas.
A quality, eco-friendly resort and bar/ restaurant on a secluded, beautiful beach with backpacker prices and amenities? Enter Palmar.
Beach loungers! Morning yoga! Happy Hour cocktails! People cooking real food! Bonfires! This was a treat I couldn’t have imagined for myself, let alone for Courtney who has spent the past year volunteering with Peace Corps Panama (more to come on this later). We took the next few days to indulge, relax, play… and relax some more.
Every night of the week hosts a themed event: bonfire, salsa dancing, beer pong, etc. Get an assortment of travelers together from all over the globe and the entertainment— and conversation— is nearly endless. We talked and drank long after the stars began shining and got to know our fellow lodge-goers, as well as new friends from neighboring resorts.
I finished a whole book over those few days. Courtney and I settled into some great conversations, one being about what childhood cutoms we wanted to pass down to our kids— hers, reading and mine, summer camp. We got sunburt. Saw the Milky Way. Woke up slowly. Drank coffee, journaled, and moved to some yoga on the deck. Vacation mode was in full effect.
Breakfast, lunch, dinner, drinks, views.
View from the neighboring resort where we had a pizza for lunch.
Courtney and I checked out of Palmar and headed to another special haven high in the mountains of Chiriquí. On our way out, some bunkmates spotted a tiny red friend hardly any bigger than the tip of my thumb. There he was, the namesake of the beach we’d been occupying: a red frog. We’d been told that there were very few, if any, of these little guys left around during the dry season.
It never gets easier leaving paradise. Palmar was no exception. I’ll be taking a cue from the little red frog and reappearing under the Isla Bastimentos rainforest canopy when least expected.
xx Adventure Well
