Before we go further we want to be clear that this isn't intended to be a "how you can still travel during a pandemic if you ignore public health warnings" post any more than our posts about sheltering in place in Panama were intended to be about "how you can arrange to hide from the plague on a Caribbean island". This blog is about our nomadic life choice -- what we experience and observe. And this pandemic has been part of that. Currently travel is not recommended by anyone, including us.
Next picture -- it's been a long time since we have been in California.
Jungle Lodge 1 To The Crowne Plaza, PTY - Day 1 (Oct. 29)
We arranged a private water taxi ride from the Red Frog Resort on Basti to Bocas Town for the crew of Abracadabra and our neighbor (and weekly pizza purveyor) Tatiana.
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| Taxi! |
We weren't surprised that our "private" taxi's first stop was the nearby Ngobe-Bugle village at Bahia Roja. Even before the tourist economy crashed, water taxis operated more like water buses -- anyone and any thing who could fit was welcomed by the driver. In a pandemic economy we just couldn't say no to either the driver or the Ngobe woman he took on board. Though we would have been more comfortable if she had worn a mask . . .
The water taxi ride was uneventful as the bay is usually quite smooth on "winter" mornings.
The Ngobe woman passenger masked up when we arrived in Bocas Town, apparently more concerned about the possible fine than the plague.
On the main street of Bocas Town we were approached by the attendant for a colectivo (a small passenger van operating as a private bus) who agreed to operate the van as a private taxi. A plastic sheet was draped between the passenger seats and the driver, the driver and attendant (the fee collector / ride negotiator) wore masks and it was one of the cleanest colectivos we have ever been in. Hopefully the town's public health campaign will have some lasting effects.
At the little airport's terminal a woman asked us questions and took our temperatures. We were required to use hand sanitizer. Everyone was compliantly standing on decals of feet placed 2 meters apart and sitting in the seats that weren't wrapped in caution tape. Masks everywhere. And then we got on a very full turboprop airplane.
The seat assignments on our tickets were apparently meant to provide comfort that we would have a seat rather than a particular seat.
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| Bryce Forward, To Port Molly Aft, To Starboard |
The theme of "one bonus stop" also applied to the flight. As we were taxiing out of Bocas Town it was announced that our next stop would be Changuinola, the commercial town on the mainland - a destination we swear was not part of our original routing. Air Panama seems to have taken a lesson from the Bocas water taxi drivers.
About half of the passengers disembarked at Changuinola and another crowd came aboard. We took the opportunity to move and sit together. A nearby couple seemed to be either very relaxed or completely exhausted - but just watching them made Molly's back hurt.
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| Oh, My Achin' . . . |
We arrived at the small domestic airport at the Albrook area of Panama City an hour later, flying over the Bridge of the Americas at the southern entrance to the Canal.
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| Bridge, Landing Gear |
We entered the airport, dutifully landing on the feet decals and passing some sort of automatic temperature taking machine that kept announcing "temperature normal! temperature normal!".
This is our last picture for awhile - unknown to us it is prohibido! to take pictures in the luggage claim area of the Albrook airport. Lo siento, señor!
After we claimed our luggage we had to wait for it to be scanned. We wondered whether scanning at our destination meant that no one cares if passengers are blown up on their way into Panama City from Bocas . . . ? That said, the dog let loose amongst our luggage suggested the real purpose of this post-flight search was to search for drugs. Bocas is a well-known party town.
Whatever the searchers were looking for they didn't find it in our luggage, so we exited and met Ricardo. If you want marine paint, a Canal line handler or a taxi ride -- Ricardo is your guy in Panama City. We asked for an extra stop (in keeping with the day's theme) for our neighbor Tatiana. Like us, Tatiana had to leave the country and was returning to her passport country, Colombia. She needed to get a quick-turnaround Covid test before she could enter Colombia. Google maps found the clinic and we dropped her off -- thanking her for the weekly pizzas and empanadas she had sold us during our stay at Jungle Lodge 1.
The Crowne Plaza near Tocumen Airport (PTY) is fully Covid-equipped with plexiglass protectors at the front desk, no-touch check-in procedures and elevators with three sets of feet decals - facing the elevator wall. Everyone we saw was masked.
The restaurant was open and offered a limited menu for travelers with limited options. Hint: Don't listen to your spouse when she or he asks that you leave your cell phone in the room to encourage dinner conversation - you will need it to bring up the restaurant's no-share menu.
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| Scan and Download The Menu Here |
We ordered okay dinners and two glasses of perfectly awful Chardonnay to celebrate the completion of Day One.
PTY To The El Segundo DoubleTree - Day 2 (October 30)
As we left the Crowne Plaza for the airport, one of the wheels on Bryce's brand new cheap suitcase broke off. The fact that he had purchased the second-most expensive suitcase in the whole of Bocas del Toro ($59 plus tax) made this a disappointing experience for him. We crab-walked/rolled into the airport terminal wondering how long the $89 suitcase would have lived . . .
The check-in scrum at PTY was somewhat controlled by feet decals. We began to sense a lost investment opportunity . . . were these little feet decals used everywhere in the world or only in Panama? Is the feet decal boom over - are they stuck on everywhere? Are the makers of feet decals conflicted about the development of a vaccine?
Out of the crowd trying to check in to the flight to LAX we were spotted by Tatiana! The rapid-return test clinic she had put her faith in had let her down. She had not gotten her test results as promised and was at the airport trying to rearrange her trip back to Colombia. The universe was reminding us not to complain. It actually could be worse and for someone we knew, was.
Note: We often spring for Business Class when flying to and from Abracadabra because we haul a lot of heavy baggage to and from our boat home ("we don't travel - we move"). Between Central America and the U.S. an Economy flight + heavy baggage is only marginally less expensive than Business Class. On this trip we didn't haul the usual boat parts and household goods but we figured that if there was ever a time to pay extra for even a small amount of extra distance from fellow travelers, this was it.
The usual practice for flights to the U.S. from Panama is a double security check. The airport performs the usual check of carryon luggage, shoes, belt buckles and metal orthopedic parts near the departure gate. An additional check is then performed by the airline at the gate. No idea why - it just is. This has not changed in these "no touch times".
Everyone was masked although we were asked to take off our masks occasionally by people checking to see that we were ourselves. Molly kept expecting to be challenged - her hair had become quite wild over the eight-ish months of hair salon closures.
The plane boarded back to front. We were served a boxed dinner (lots of hygienic and ecologically unsound plastic wrap). The only beverage on board was (ecologically unsound) bottled water. No alcohol and worse, no coffee.
Oddly we were given plastic-wrapped "travel comfort bags" with socks and eye masks. We haven't seen those for a decade or more!
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| Worth Paying For Business Class! (No, Not Really) |
At LAX we expected some sort of Covid procedure but the only concession to the pandemic was a lack of customs check. No questions, no temperatures, no tracking. We don't know what procedures were applied to those who weren't entering as U.S. citizens or permanent residents.
LAX has a new taxi procedure involving a crowded bus to a distant taxi stand. This may be an efficiency measure rather than a Covid-era change.
Night 2 was spent at the El Segundo DoubleTree, chosen for its proximity to an Enterprise car rental lot. Plastic shields, no-touch check in, feet decals in the elevators (one can put four in an elevator in the U.S.) and very reassuring little stickers about deep cleaning connecting the door jam and the door (See! No one has been in this room since it was cleaned!). Remember when motels used to put that paper band around toilet seats?
The DoubleTree introduced us to a Covid protection practice that we actually like. Rather than the usual scrum around the "included breakfast" buffet we were directed to a line (more feet decals) where we ordered our plastic-encased breakfast items to take to our room; no crying children, no fellow travelers still in their pajamas. Not tasty mind you, but much calmer.
El Segundo to Sacramento - Days 3 - 5 (Oct. 31 - Nov. 2)
We had planned our commute to Sacramento as a three day drive up Highway 1 and then up Highway 33 in an attempt to make this potentially awful trip more of a vacation. Anyone who has ever driven I-5 between Sacramento and Los Angeles (only about 8 hours if you concentrate and don't need coffee as often a we do) will know why we try to avoid that route like - well, the plague.
The first stop along Highway 1 was to purchase items for a beach picnic at a Bristol Farms grocery store. Here we insert the requisite "we're back in the land of amaaaazing grocery stores" picture for any of our readers still in Central America. Lisa and Michael - we see your Whole Foods picture and raise you one!
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| Produce! Piles and Piles of Produce! |
Next picture -- it's been a long time since we have been in California.
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| CBD At The Grocery Store . . . Is It Everywhere Now? |
We picnicked at Santa Monica until the fog rolled in; it seemed really crowded to those of us used to having the Red Frog Beaches to ourselves.
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| Lunch |
From Santa Monica through Malibu, Highway 1 offers some spectacular views of beach-dwellers' garage doors - but once we reached Oxnard we had great views of the Pacific. We made a coffee and boat-peeping stop at Ventura.
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| Look: Tourists! |
We observed two Trump Caravans along Highway 1; very high school football rally-like.
Our motel that night was - fine. Bryce was very proud of the fact that it was paid for with points. Dinner was take-out from a nearby Mexican restaurant. Ah, the taste of home.
In the morning we checked the latest CalFire map and confirmed our plan to find Highway 33 - a route we had never taken before. After an outdoor patio breakfast at Bonnie Lu's in Ojai we walked through the town's little (but beautiful) farmer's market.
We picked up Highway 33 and started up into the Los Padres National Forest. There are better sites on the Internet to see pictures of the route, but we offer this one to (a) prove we were there and (b) entice readers to search out this drive.
After the beautiful hills Highway 33 descends into Oil Country - miles of sad, dry land, Mexican restaurants (thank heavens!), rusty trailers and pump jacks. As we passed signs for the Petroleum Club in Taft, Ca., Bryce suggested we see if they offered some sort of reciprocal membership. Molly's grandfather was a charter member of the Petroleum Club in Tulsa, which has since closed. We took out from some place less grand.
Signs along the highway in Oil Country: Trump. Pray For Rain.
We stopped for the night in the second largest town in Kern Country - Delano. Think grapes, Cesar Chavez and two State prisons. Pronounced "DehLAYno", Molly kept reminding Bryce whose lingering Canadian accent turned it into "DELLahno". Dinner was take-out from a pizza restaurant. Should have stuck with our Mexican food theme.
And from there it was a relatively well known route up Highway 99. Done.
Here We Are
We are living in a little 2-bedroom duplex, "our" half of which has been turned into an Airbnb. Our clean, pleasant enough little digs are in an area of Sacramento called "The Pocket" -- a pocket of land created by a bend in the Sacramento River that was developed in the 1960's and 70's. There are green belt spaces for walking and though the residents get nervous every flood season we think we will be out of here before snowmelt in the mountains.
Shortly after we arrived we arranged to take a Covid test to determine if we were importing any Covid virus as a result of our journey. Once we got negative results we felt better -- at least that we were not adding to The Situation in Sacramento. We began seeing friends -- at a distance, outdoors, with masks. So good to say hello in the flesh after months of e-mails and zoom calls. Molly's latest realization is that though she has never considered herself to be "a hugger" -- she misses that connection with friends. You don't know what you've got till it's gone, as the song says.
Not much is open in Sacramento but after months at Jungle Lodge 1 we don't find that constraining. Our one try at indoor restaurant dining was a little uncomfortable and restaurants were closed again a few days later. That's fine with us - we're good with take-out. We have also mastered the skills of ordering groceries (e-cart pick-up) and communicating with our doctors and their schedulers via the internet when possible.
So - between our deferred maintenance medical stuff (all just maintenance, gracias a dios!) we might have time to catch up on some pre-pandemic travel posts. Or maybe we will spend our time watching streamed content on the big tv in this rental.
A final amusing note: On November 7, five days after our arrival in Sacramento we learned that the Panamanian government had extended its grace period for tourists through January 31. Go figure.
Hope all is well with you and your family. Have a safe Thanksgiving. We look forward to saner times.
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