I arrived at the Panama border and there were no border guards. However, I had been told the Panama Police stop people often on the roads so I wanted all my paperwork in order.
I paid $25 for bike insurance and $1 fumigation spray for the motorbike, got my TIP (temporary import permit) and an entry stamp in my passport. Whilst finding each office and navigating the process was complicated it was the quickest border crossing in Central America.
I left the border and headed for the nearest town to find a hotel. I wasn’t enjoying the ride, it was bland, no motorbikes, no horse-drawn carts or volcanoes. There were Lorries and toxic fumes – and then I wondered if… yes, I found myself on the bloody ‘Pan American Highway’ again!
I stayed in the town of David that night, not a tourist in sight! Hardly any scooters but more taxis than anywhere else, and they have an annoying habit of honking their horns wherever they drive, I assume to let people know they are there. This is a ridiculous practice because there are so many taxis everywhere, all of the time!
For the first time since Mexico I decided to get the miles done and ride to Panama City (just under 300 miles). The idea being that I could possibly get my Honduras visa there, new tyres for the bike and some repairs. Which means when I leave Panama City I turn-around and head back through Central America to Mexico. The problem is there’s only one road running the length of Panama, and it’s the Pan American Highway!
I left at 7.15am and the noticeable things were the lack of cars and the disproportionate number of traffic police on the side of road with speed cameras! I have never been anywhere where there were so many. I must have passed 20 that day.
At about 1pm having been on the road for about 6 hours I got to the top of a hill and Panama City was stretched out I front of me. Wow! So many high rise buildings, wow. The ride into the city, including crossing the Panama Canal was impressive.
Virtually nobody who I dealt with over the following days spoke English, so the majority of conversations were via Google Translate.
Wednesday:
I rode straight to the Honduras Embassy (1.58pm) and showed the receptionist my prepared ‘reason for being there’ (in Spanish). She smiled and via Google Translate asked if I had seen the ‘Requirements for Visa form?’ – I’ve been here before I thought! Rather than sink into a world of self-pity, I smiled and asked if I could have a copy (EVEN THOUGH I KNEW EVERY BLODDY REQUIREMENT)… she gave me the form and I translated it to English and asked if I could sit down and read it. She wanted everything the embassy wanted in San Salvador with the addition of a ‘medical certificate’. I returned to her desk and said I could prepare everything except the ‘medical certificate’ and ‘International Criminal Record Certificate’. This could break me I thought, please don’t make me ride all over the city as I had to in San Salvador. I also asked how long the visa takes to prepare and she said if you come back at 9am tomorrow morning (Thursday) I can collect it that afternoon – wonderful I thought. I had a couple of hours to get two certificates, it felt an impossible task!
Luckily I kept all of the paperwork from every border I crossed on this adventure as well as the Interpol Police Report from San Salvador. I produced it from my folder and said that the Honduras Embassy in San Salvador accepted this certificate only 2 weeks ago, would you accept it? She went off to ask the woman in the big office with glass wall & door. She studied the document, glanced up at me and said “ok”.
I asked about the ‘Medical Certificate’ and she said “you have to have one”. She pinned the location on my Google Maps and told me to go there right now. So, down the stairs, across the 4 lane road to my motorbike, I rode as fast as could in heavy traffic across the city to ‘MiniMed’ what seemed to be a private health company. It’s now 2.50pm and the receptionist said it takes 24 hours to get one as you have to give a stool, urine & blood sample! I paused, smiled and explained that the embassy closes Friday, Saturday & Sunday and if I don’t get the report to them 9am tomorrow morning I will have to wait until next week (it’s Wednesday). She said ‘computer says NO’. I paused and smiled and said ‘what would you do if you were me?’ – this simple and beautiful question has been so valuable to me over the years! She thought and then said I should go to a different medical centre where they can do it in an hour. She pinned the location on my Google Maps.
So, back on my motorbike, across the city, stationary in the heavy traffic and somehow survived riding like a lunatic as time was running out!
At 3.15pm I arrived at the health centre and explained everything again to the equally lovely receptionist. After an exchange of Google translate conversations she asked if I brought a stool & urine sample. I explained that I had been riding my motorbike nearly 500km to get here… She said ‘computer says no!’ I’ve been here before I thought! I paused, smiled and said I’ll do the sample here, right now. She went off to talk to someone.
At 3.40pm I was called over and told to pay £23 this was massive progress! Let’s not think about the bank statements, letters, passport photo and everything else! One step at a time.
Was I going to get the Medical Report today 🤔
I sat and waited… 4pm came and went and I hadn’t thought about where to sleep or where to get everything printed! It seemed as though it would be a miracle if I got everything prepared by 9am the following day.
And then it dawned on me ‘what are they going to test me for’ 🤔 At 4.10 the nurse called me into the consultation room, this is progress I thought. She gave me the containers for the samples and took my blood. At 4.20 the nurse had all 3
Samples and said she gets the results at 11pm and I have to return after 7am in the morning to collect the certificate. I head off to find a hotel with a smile on my face. However, I feel there are many more hurdles to jump before I have the visa.
I found an old, small hotel close to the embassy on Google Maps, it was cheap and had good reviews. As I rode there I found I was right in the middle of the high-rise offices and business, it reminded me of Penang; I love the juxtaposition of the small old buildings next to the modern skyscrapers!
My room was £25 and wonderful.
At 5.25 I started working on collating all of the documents.
- Proof of address – British Gas & Vodafone bills.
- Application letter.
- Proof of Job
- Bank Statements
- Medical Certificate
- International Criminal Record Certificate
- Copy passport
- Passport photo
By 6.15 I had all of the documents prepared and emailed to myself so I could get them printed.
I really need a beer, but first I needed to put my bike inside the hotel for safety. Then I walked out to find a beer and I stumbled across a print shop. 40 or so copies later and I had a smile on my face.
If the stars are aligned and I get my medical certificate tomorrow (detailing my good health 🙂) I’m all prepared for the embassy, although after my experience in San Salvador I’m slightly anxious!
I’ve been in the hotel for a few hours ‘on & off’ now and there is no doubt that it’s full of crazy Americans. No doubt at all 😂 I’m wondering if after a ‘crazy diagnosis’ in USA, one gets an option of being sectioned to an asylum or this hotel in Panama City 🤔 It’s great entertainment, I thought, ‘I can talk rubbish for an evening or two’ 🙂 In addition to the crazies there were 2 ladyboys who walked around the hotel as though practicing for a catwalk!
At 8pm I decided to make a plan for the morning. I needed to be prepared and present at the Honduras Embassy at 9am! Easy, I collect the ‘Medical Report’ and ride straight to the embassy. I went onto Google Maps to see how far away it was and I hadn’t saved it!!! I’ve been here before I thought! Easy, I thought, I’lll Google it. Would you believe how many ‘MiniMed’ centres there are in Panama City! 🤦♂️
Then I looked at the crazies and felt I fitted in well…
There are about half million people living in downtown Panama City, with 14 MiniMed medical centres! As you maybe aware ChatGPT had let me down on numerous occasions on this adventure, so I had deleted the app! I wondered if it was up for this challenge – I remembered there was a Metro Station outside the MiniMed Centre. I installed the ChatGPT app again and ask it which MiniMed was near a Metro Station? Boom, there was only one and after looking at google it was the right one. 9pm and I’m back on track!
I had been on the go for 15 hours, rode 300 miles, had a medical, an embassy visit and prepared much paperwork. I slept well.
Thursday:
The following morning I’m up early and whilst grabbing a quick coffee before I head back to the Medical Centre, 2 Americans sit next to me and add further weight to my feeling that I’ve booked into a hotel full of ‘crazies’. They have been cycling from USA here and haven’t enjoyed it, although keep telling me how much more enjoyable it is that riding a motorbike 🤔 I think their Psychiatrist must have prescribed the cycling adventure to avoid upsetting everyone on the airplane down here!
Im back on the bike battling with the rush-hour traffic across the city. I arrive at the medical centre at 7.30am. I take a ticket and wait with many people. At 7.45 I’m told I will be called to see a doctor shortly. Why do they need to see me, all I want is the bloody certificate. What do the results show!!!
It’s 8.24 and I’m still waiting. My anxiety levels have been rising. Firstly, I need to be at the Honduras Embassy by 9am and secondly, what horrible disease might I have 🤷♂️
8.30am and I’m called into see the Dr. she took my blood pressure and a few other tests and said I was healthy 🥳🥳🥳 my blood pressure was 120/80 – whilst felling stressed – whatever that means.
I got back on the bike, through the rush-hour traffic to the embassy. A kind carpark attendant opened a secure gate and let me park in an office block car park.
At 8.50am I arrived at the embassy. Whilst the rest of Central America starts work early, the Honduras Embassy staff obviously don’t! As I wait outside I feel an enormous sense of accomplishment. Whilst there are many choppy waters left to navigate, I have since 2pm yesterday (with nobody speaking English and all I can say “una cerveza por favor”) had a medical and got a doctors certificate to prove I’m healthy, written a letter in Spanish, detailing why I want to visit Honduras, my employment status, how much money I have, proof of address, proof I’m not a criminal, and more.
It’s bloody hot and at 9.01am the embassy still isn’t open and I’m sweating like a pig!
At 9.08 two very friendly and welcoming men arrive, shortly after the woman I spoke to yesterday. I sit in reception on a comfy leather sofa, with white walls and black polished floor tiles around me. There are two pictures on the wall, one of what seems like the president, a very smiley woman, and a map of Honduras (I love maps). However, I think I have map and picture ‘hanging level’ OCD! The map would have hung proudly, showing the country off to all who visit the Embassy, but it was wonky! The left side (as you look at the map) was hanging lower than the right! This ‘sloppy workmanship’ is evident in many parts of the world and ‘as an Englishman’ I just don’t get it. If you’re going to take the time to drill 4 holes and screw it to the wall in a permanent position, why wouldn’t you ensure it’s level! (yes, the map hadn’t just dropped on one side, it had 4 screws ensuring it wouldn’t move even in the event of an earthquake). Even if they don’t have a spirit-level, it was being positioned so close to a further wall even a child could have done a better job!
So the wonky map consumed me for 20 minutes and then the receptions / admin woman called me over (in Spanish) and asked if I had the documents. I proudly said “I have the medical certificate”, assuming she would realise the effort it would take an Englishman to accomplish getting one! She smiled and then over the next 10 minutes I passed her the many documents and she scrutinised them one by one. I asked her if everything was correct and she said yes with a big smile. Wow, I’ve done it I thought. I’ll have the visa stamped in my passport this afternoon 🙂
And then everything changed.
As with all of our communication, she tapped away on her keyboard and Google Translate did its magic! I leaned forward to read the translation, I read ‘the visa woman isn’t working today, you can collect the visa on Monday’ (remember, it’s Thursday today). She knew what was coming; as I looked up her expression had changed, her radiant smile had disappeared, she had lowered her head and looked sorry for me. I couldn’t believe what I just read! The lovely receptionist had walked in and confirmed everything with the visa woman yesterday, I was there when we all agreed I would return today at 9am and collect my visa this afternoon. I was confused, angry and I couldn’t hide it. I didn’t need to say anything, I’m sure my feelings were as clear as crystal. I asked her why she told me to come it this morning, that I had spent hours yesterday afternoon, evening and this morning collating all of the documents. She looked genuinely sorry for me. She then tapped away on her keyboard “I’m just the assistant, the visa woman messaged just now informing me she would do the visa Monday”.
I have a propensity to be very emotional and at times I find it difficult to control them. However, whist it was evident how I was feeling, I stayed in control. The assistant and I knew exactly what was occurring and we both knew it was awful, really poor behaviour from the visa woman.
By now all of my documents were piled on her desk and I was just staring, with no purpose, lost. She shuffled papers and I made a very conscious decision regarding my next move. Let’s remember the situation; they have something I desperately need (if I don’t get the visa I have to fly myself and the motorbike over Honduras) and they want nothing from me – that means they hold all the cards. It was a very risky strategy as at this moment I didn’t know if the visa woman was also the manager or boss of the embassy! The consequences of getting this wrong could be disastrous. I wrote into Google Translate ‘is the visa woman the manager too?’ and passed my mobile to her.
My anxiety levels are sky high now!
I just stood still, she picked my passport off her desk and walked towards the back of the office where one of the friendly and welcoming men I met earlier was. His door was open and whilst I couldn’t see in, she popped her head around the corner. A minute or so later she returned to her desk. Again, she said I should return Monday.
At this point I had played my hand and like a loser, I would have to stay 4 nights here and return Monday. I asked her if she was able to confirm all of my documents were acceptable as I didn’t want to return Monday and have further problems. She said the documents were all correct and that I now needed to complete the application form. I was just about to walk over to the leather sofa and fill in the form, when her phone pinged. She read what I assumed was a text and started tapping away on her keyboard again. I looked down and she said the visa woman was coming in and I could collect the visa this afternoon.
I gave her the biggest kiss – of course I didn’t!
I completed the application form and went to the bank to pay the £23 for the visa.
At 10.13am I was back at the embassy and told to return at 1pm for the visa.
Whilst my anxiety had diminished I was wasn’t over the line just yet! 🙂
I went to BMW and realised Panama has a car culture and I knew more about bikes than they did 🤦♂️
I returned at 1.20pm to the embassy. The receptionist – admin lady gave me my passport open at the page with the visa in. I thanked her many times and made a quick exit.
- So why did the visa woman decided to take the day off after agreeing to see me?
- Why did she change her mind and come into work after deciding to take the day off?
- And how can my blood pressure be 120/80
There’s no stopping to congratulate myself, I went riding around the city looking for new tyres and some repairs. I was unsuccessful at that so I got the bike cleaned by an amazing Colombian guy who earned every cent of the $10 he wanted.
3.45 I arrived back at the hotel, passed the first American crazy who gave me a weird look and then a further crazy wanted to do ‘high 5’s’, and another who was sort of skipping along the hall, I think he missed his 3pm blue pill!
While everything else was going on today I had been trying to get a new back tyre. At 4pm I got a phone call from a guy I spoke to earlier saying he had one for me, so off into the rush-hour traffic to get it fitted!
Whilst Panama is way off being the busiest traffic city I’ve experienced, you have to be fully alert at all times as they switch lane and pull out of junctions without any concern for knocking you off the motorbike. They push out and it leaves no choice but to abruptly stop and let them through!
Back at the hotel at 6, shower, pop next door to the local shop and buy a beer. Back in the hotel and I said hello to a new face, a guy from Czech Republic, absolute loon, been living in the hotel a year 🤷♂️ I asked him why he didn’t get an apartment and he looked at me like I was the loon! ‘I’ll pop back to the shop next door for more beer in a while’, I thought! I sat down by the pool and one of the US Army vets came over and continued talking to me as he did last night, something about younger people have no future and something about awakening… ‘Maybe I should buy vodka at the shop instead of beer’, I thought!
All I could think over the last hour, was that I need a few rest days. But an hour back in the hotel and I was sure riding about Panama City with my own thoughts was preferable to the noise here! Maybe I wouldn’t rest, maybe I would ride, and ride and ride some more – I like that! I had spent too much time with messed up people over recent years. I choose my own company right now!
One good thing came out of the visa debacle (in addition to getting the visa) and that’s for £23 I found out I’m healthy 🙂 BLODDY amazing as my dad would’ve said!
The following morning I was the first down for breakfast and Roy, the least crazy American guy choose to sit with me at a very small table rather than one of the many empty ones. Whilst crazy he was very friendly and when I mentioned I might visit the old city today, he immediately offered to show me around. Roy was an ex-US army marine who had lived in Panama City for about 30 years, he walked everywhere and was as fit as a fiddle. And what a lovely old-town Panama has and full of traditional Spanish architecture. Roy walked and told me all about the history and architecture and was a wonderful friend and tour guide for the day. I was absolutely knackered by the time we got back to the hotel, I think Roy could have walked and walked some more!
And then on Saturday 29th November at 7.40am, after riding 7,072 miles, having crossed 8 countries, I turned around and started riding Northwest, back to the USA. This time following the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico Coasts.
As I left Panama City I stopped at the Panama Canal before heading to the Pan American Highway. A sea adventure I thought, maybe a sea adventure one day 🤔
After a couple of hours riding I saw black clouds ahead of me hovering over the mountains. There was nowhere to stop and shelter so I ploughed on. As I got nearer to the clouds they appeared blacker and blacker, then a few drops of rain hit my helmet visor and the next second I was riding into a ‘tropical storm’, and within a few seconds I saw a sign for a Texaco Petrol Station & restaurant 1 KM ahead! The rain that came down on that 1 KM ride!
I sat in the restaurant and had coffee & banana cake and after 15 minutes the black clouds & rain had passed. However, the smug feeling didn’t last as after 10 minutes riding the heavens opened and for the next 20 minutes it poured down. I only had a rain jacket so was drenched through from the waist down! But I was in a rainforest and after a further 40 minutes I was dry again!
The following day was an important day as I would cross the Reserva Forestal de Fortuna mountain range and be on the Caribbean Coast for the first time on this adventure. For 2 months I had been following the Pacific Ocean south and southeast but now I would be following the Caribbean Coast north and northwest, as I tracked back up through Central America.
Riding in Panama hadn’t been that exciting as other than in the towns & cities I had been on The Pan American Highway. So when I made a right turn and saw the Reserva Forestal de Fortuna mountains ahead of me I had a good feeling. Sublime riding up in the jungle clad mountains, passing through Maleku Tribe villages, wooden huts and mud everywhere.
I eventually arrived at the Caribbean Sea and spent time exploring this very remote area. Oh, I saw the most beautiful butterfly ever, a Blue Morpho which can grow to a wingspan size of 12cm. Another wow moment on this adventure.
At 3pm I arrived in the small town of Almirante, I checked into a hotel and chilled out.
I left early the following morning to ride 40 miles to the border and as always I’m reflecting on my recent experiences as I ride. Panama feels like the wealthiest country I’ve passed through riding down through Central America, but as with every country in the world the distribution is far from even. There were places in Panama City that felt as wealthy as any other city in the world, but as I rode up and down the Pan American Highway it cut a very different picture, poor (or want looked like poor) communities, sometimes in very basic housing. And then yesterday I crossed to the northern (Caribbean) side of Panama, over the mountain, where there are no signs of wealth. Everyone outside of the small towns living in wooden huts, with corrugated steel or palm tree fronds roofs. I like this side of Panama, where people make an effort to look and smile, where a really good cup of coffee costs 40p.
It’s 9.30am I’m 15 minutes off the border and I’m drinking my last cup of coffee in Panama. The lady who served me in the restaurant has just lit the BBQ and 3 or 4 women are in the kitchen, preparing, chatting, smiling & laughing. I would love to stay for lunch, but I have a second date with Costa Rica…
30 minutes and out of Panama. Interestingly, whilst many people are crossing the border, they were all ‘on foot’. My bike was the only vehicle leaving Panama.
As I looked over the bridge into Costa Rica I saw black clouds…
So what have I learned about Panama?
- It’s very expensive.
- There aren’t many motorbikes.
- Traffic police everywhere.
- Panama City has a mix of old and new high-rise.
- The mountains in the north are wonderful.