As we passed one particular aggressive group, they started moving out into the street towards us Gil started to cry and went to hide in the bathroom. I was frantically checking the map to get us into another neighborhood. The next intersection was a main street, we turned on to it. We were now heading towards downtown PC. There were newer and more modern buildings mixed with the older ones. We passed several monuments and Plazas.
Still with time to waste we drove out to the Canal Zone. After driving around a traffic circle we saw a post office, bank, restaurant, theater and drug store. All carried signs stating that only authorized persons would be served. We continued on, driving around the green residential areas and the beachside picnic grounds. Saw several cars with military police - they too were watching us. There is no camping allowed in the Canal Zone.
Time to go back and pick up our papers. We managed to get back there without getting lost. Bill stopped and I ran in to pick them up. Mr. Osorio handed them to me with a smile and wished us “Buen viaje.”
Back to La Siesta with a stop at the supermarket for produce and milk. I like going to the produce section, everything smells so good. Then we picked up dinner to go at McDonalds. We were continually surprised at how expensive things were in Panama. Our KFC dinner for seven cost $9.75,
Bill had arranged to go with Maynard tomorrow to the shipping agent.
Just a few more comments on how expensive Panama was (all prices in US 1978 dollars): Gasoline - 1.14 per gallon, small box of Coco Puffs 1.09, dill pickles 1.30 per jar (this was the first time we found pickles since leaving Calif.), Viva paper towels one roll 1.25. A grocery checker made 60cents per hour and the butcher 80cents. No wonder they didn’t like us.
All the guys got together in the evening and planned out how everything would get done. Maynard had done this before so everyone kind of looked towards him for advice. He and Bill would look into getting a ship and Bruce volunteered to check out air fares.
Monday morning the 13th of March Maynard, Frenchie and Bill left in the Volvo to find a boat that could take the motorhome and that wouldn’t cost an arm and a leg. First they went to the agent Maynard had used the last time he took a car to Bolivia. His office was in the harbor area. When they arrived at he building where his offices were, they weren’t - it was boarded up. Maynard went next door to ask the people there if they knew if he had moved his office. No, they didn’t know but they knew of someone else. Just down the street a ways. Following the directions given them they ended up in a gloomy narrow dead end street. Outside of the only office that showed signs of occupancy was a sign saying Intermediario so they parked and went in. The windowless room was lit by a single light that was hanging from the cracking ceiling by a wire. It’s meager light illuminating the desk and a small area around it. Behind the desk sat a husky black man dressed in work clothes. He stood as they entered and extended his working man’s hand. In American English (he was from Minneapolis) he asked how he could help them. Bill explained about the motorhome, how big it was and about the other vans and cars that needed shipping. Oh, no he couldn’t help with something that big but he knew of a company that would. Right down on the docks. After they were back in the car Maynard said he probably just didn’t have any ships available in the near future. Sometimes it took over a month to get things shipped.
So off they went again. This was a regular shipping company with big offices. They were escorted to the Intermediario’s office, a large sunny room. They gave the gentleman all the information for the motorhome, vans and cars. After much figuring he gave them a price of $2500 for the motorhome, $500 for the vans and $400 for the cars. All prices were calculated by the cubic foot. Maynard thought this seemed very expensive. He said that the last time he made the trip it was only $200 for a car. The Intermediario shrugged. That was the best he could do.
A very pretty girl who appeared to be the man’s secretary was helping with the figuring. She and Maynard had been smiling at each other off and on. As Bill and Frenchie started out the door, Maynard stopped to talk to the girl. When he got to the car he was smiling.
“What’s up?” asked Bill.
“Well I found us another place to go, all it cost me is a date tonight. One that I don’t plan on keeping,” was the reply.
The next company was the right one. They had a ship coming in from Colon within a week and the price was right - $1700 for the motorhome, $300 for the vans and $200 for the cars. Again all prices by the cubic foot. Because of the number of vehicles (5) the price had been discounted. The boat would be loaded in Panama City and unload in Buenaventura, Colombia. Only a couple days voyage.
The only problem was they had never shipped anything as big and bulky as the 24” motorhome. Bill asked how it would be put on the ship. Well that was a problem he wasn’t sure there was a way to put it in the ship. It was too big for the usual slings, but he would talk to the loaders to see how to do it. If Bill would call him in three days he would be able to tell him and he would also be able to give him a definite date for the arrival of the boat. So tentatively arrangements were made. Then Bill thought to ask what if the motorhome was damaged, who would be responsible? Insurance against this was very cheap - only about $30 more and it would cover everything.
We wanted to know exactly when the vehicles needed to be on the boat because all of us people involved needed to arrange transportation by air from Panama City to Cali, Colombia. Then transportation of some sort would have to be arranged from Cali to Buenaventura.
Three days later Bill called. Everything was going to be okay he was told. The loaders would use very strong nets; they could take more weight than the motorhome. No problem. The motorhome would be driven on the nets, front wheels on one back wheels on another, and then they would lift it and lower it into the hold of the ship. It would be secured there. The boat would be arriving from Colon on Saturday and would be ready for loading on Monday the 20th as on the weekend the loaders did not work.
Now with a definite schedule there was more paper work to be done. The owner of each vehicle had to visit the port authority for the proper permits and then present his paper work in person to the Aduanas.
In passing I will mention that to save money because of the cubic foot price we would put everything inside the motorhome. By everything I mean all the trunks that were on the roof, the trailer and everything that was on it including the Honda motorcycle. Klaus would put his BMW inside one of the vans. But that is another story.
We still needed to book the plane. Bruce had checked with a couple of airlines but the prices were too high or they were not available when we needed them. We finally found what we needed, the price was right and the plane would leave soon after the vehicles were loaded on the boat.
All of this being done we had a few days to just enjoy Panama City and do the tourist thing.
Sandwiched between the last of the running around preparing for the shipping and flying we went to Old Panama and of course the Locks.
Before we started Randy and John Mc took all the trunks, chairs and the rest of the stuff off of the top of the motorhome. The only things left on top were the air conditioner and the roof rack. Every inch off was money saved.
That done, we all piled in the motorhome and headed for Old Panama to explore. When we were talking about going there and visiting the ruins Gil wanted to know if we would see any “Aunt Jemimas.”
“See any whats?” I asked him.
“You know - aunt jemimas - stuff that is really really old like we saw in Mexico.”
Paul had been listening to the conversation. Pulling at my sleeve he said, “I think he means ancient Mayan ruins Mom.
“Yah that’s right aunt jemimas. You know where we were climbing and got into trouble,” clarified Gil.
Of course the rest of the trip we saw all the “aunt jemimas” we could.
We found the old city with no problem. Old Panama was founded in 1519 and the name Panama was derived from an Indian term meaning “abundance of fish.” It was destroyed in 1671 by the pirate Henry Morgan who raided the city and set it on fire.
Some walls and towers of the original church and several other buildings are still standing. We could still see the black from the flames on the stone walls of the church. For any part of the city to be still standing after more than 400 years was very impressive to me. There weren’t many people at the site so it was very quiet. Standing by the alter area of the church it seemed like we could feel and hear whispers of the people that had lived and died there. Either that or we had taken too many trips to Disneyland’s Pirates of the Caribbean.
The plants growing everywhere amazed us. They were just beautiful and so big, towering over all of us. Flowers of every color seemed to be everywhere, climbing up the old stones and growing in the trees. Some Birds of Paradise were at least eight feet tall. Bill was talking to a grounds man and he said keeping the jungle at bay was a full time job. We went back to the campground refreshed and ready to pack.
Panama the next few days
We were in Panama City for nine days. We were lucky to find a ship so quickly.
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By Monday morning Maynard and Frenchie had arrived. They of course were staying in the hotel. While eating breakfast in the coffee shop they ran into another man, Juan who was on his way to Bolivia. He was driving an old yellow and black Pontiac with a new full transmission and several other car parts in the trunk. Now we were 17.
Maynard and Juan had made the trip before so they were a great source of information about what had to be done.
After breakfast we dutifully piled in the motorhome and headed into town to the Aduana where we had to extend our paper work. It was located in an older part of the city, down very narrow streets. We had a hard time finding a place to park the motorhome. The building was pretty old too, it was three stories, the bottom one covered in wood siding the upper two coated with cracked tan stucco. All the windows had bars over them. We all filed inside to stand in front of a small wooden barrier that separated the waiting room from the desks. One metal desk was empty, behind the other sat a bureaucrat. He had lots of wavy black hair, an olive complexion and dark brown eyes behind wire rimmed glasses. He was sharply dressed in a white suit and shirt with a gray tie. As we walked in he glanced up then went back to the paper work in front of him. When he finished reading it he carefully put it into a folder and into a desk drawer it went. He looked at Bill and smiled.
“Yes, may I help you?” he said in very good English.
Maynard and Juan had made the trip before so they were a great source of information about what had to be done.
After breakfast we dutifully piled in the motorhome and headed into town to the Aduana where we had to extend our paper work. It was located in an older part of the city, down very narrow streets. We had a hard time finding a place to park the motorhome. The building was pretty old too, it was three stories, the bottom one covered in wood siding the upper two coated with cracked tan stucco. All the windows had bars over them. We all filed inside to stand in front of a small wooden barrier that separated the waiting room from the desks. One metal desk was empty, behind the other sat a bureaucrat. He had lots of wavy black hair, an olive complexion and dark brown eyes behind wire rimmed glasses. He was sharply dressed in a white suit and shirt with a gray tie. As we walked in he glanced up then went back to the paper work in front of him. When he finished reading it he carefully put it into a folder and into a desk drawer it went. He looked at Bill and smiled.
“Yes, may I help you?” he said in very good English.
Bill explained we were on our way to South America driving a motorhome, that we were all American citizens. We needed our paper work extended because it would take longer than a couple of days to arrange for transporting the motorhome.
He nodded and held out his hand for the paperwork. After sorting through everything he filled out a couple of new papers, stamped them and handed them to Bill saying these were for the motorhome and motorcycle, but there was a problem with the people. We would need new pictures. Before we left home we had made copies of all the information for the motorhome and motorcycle and several copies of our passport photos. We had been using them when necessary for visas etc. For some reason they were not acceptable here. Bill said we had the photos and pointed to the stack sitting on his desk. Oh, no, they wouldn’t do we needed new ones and they could be taken right next door and if we did it right now they would be ready by afternoon. We could come back after 3:00 and he would have everything ready for us.
No amount of discussion (now in Spanish) would change his mind. So next door we went and had our pictures taken again. They would be delivered to Mr. Osorio next door as soon as they were developed, we did not have to wait.
Now we were in Panama City with a couple of hours to waste. So we piled back into our red, white and blue motorhome with the stripes and stars painted on it and the blue California plates to drive around the town. It was a very interesting experience. The part of town we were driving through had one-way streets lined with two-story wooden buildings. They were brightly painted in pinks, blues, yellows and whites. Small shops of every type occupied the ground floor. The second floors all had balconies most with ornate iron railings. Some had laundry drying over the railings.
The sidewalks were busy, women carrying shopping bags, mothers with children in their school uniforms and young men congregated on the corners. Everyone turned to watch us go by. As we continued on we heard shouts of “Yankee, go home!” and saw raised fists and middle fingers.