This day has been a day of communication and transit. This day was a good day.
I started off at 9AM. Despite a full dinner I had last night, I felt very hungry. I look at myself in the mirror and notice how skinny I had become overnight. On the day of the robbery, 4th of July, I didn’t eat anything. Not only because I was so busy going from the police station to the internet cafe to seaboard marine and the hotel, but also because I was just so stressed out that I didn’t feel very hungry, either. It took me a couple days, but the stress of that day clearly showed this morning.
But I didn’t hesitate. I immediately packed my belongings and asked the hotel attendant to call for a taxi. The airport is less than a 5 minute, $3 drive away and I arrive at 9AM for a 3PM flight. The attendants are friendly and speak great English. I check in early, which thankfully puts me all the way in front on the window seat, 4F. This would prove invaluable when I exit the plane. I go through the metal detectors and take out my laptop, but they say I got 3 scissors that I cannot take with me. It’s my swiss army knife that I got for free while in duty at Djibouti, Africa, and also my scissors which I trim my nails with.
But I didn’t care. Tocumen International Airport was a very welcome change from the rest of Panama. It was clean, very big, and a sophisticated airport. It would easily rival in quality with that of any airport in America. But they didn’t offer one thing that I was looking for with immediacy: food. They had a single hot dog stand in the middle of an alleyway, a stark contrast to the sophisticated electronic and perfume shops lined up along the airport gates. It cost me $4.25 for a hotdog and a pepsi.
But the best part came when I realized that the airport provided free wi-fi internet service. I hadn’t used wi-fi on my laptop since I left California. Until then, I was secretly regretting that I even brought my wi-fi card. Even though I could have probably changed my flight and left on an earlier plane to Cartagena, I sat down, listened to my iPod, and used the internet for hours at my leisure. I had a lot of catching up to do. I sent emails to people I care about, letting them know about exactly what happened and what’s the situation right now. I check all my emails, do more research about what I need to do once I get to Cartagena to retrieve my vehicle, and catch up on some news. I update Windows, Antivirus, and Adaware. I upload pictures to my xanga, which I was going to do but couldn’t because of the robbery which included my 2 Gig Flash drive. I update credit card information for a few things that automatically deduct from my now defunct credit card. All in all, just taking care of business, and the time flew. It was soon 2PM, time for boarding.
The plane ride was wonderful. I had my GPS on the whole time, which was pretty cool since now I can tell which route the plane took the entire way through. They offered free sandwiches on board, and the attendants spoke great English, asking me if I want ice with my orange juice. The airport reminded me of quaint little Hawaiian airports all over the islands. It welcomed me with its mild humidity.
Because I had checked in super early, I was the 4th person in line when it came time to go through immigration. The entire plane needed to go through Immigration Customs, and there were 4 attendants. A 100 people patiently waited behind me. I went out and a taxi driver immediately approached me. He took me to my current Hostal, Hotel Holiday. It’s not much, with a fan and some lukewarm water, but it’s only $7 a night and I can’t complain. I will stay here at least 3 more nights before I get my car situation taken care of and there’s a lot of tourists here. Not that I love going to where tourists seem to travel to en masse, but I am now a firm believer in safety in numbers. I feel safer here, somewhat because of the number of tourists visible throughout the city, but more so because of the people of Cartagena. Something’s right about this place, you can just feel it. Something was dramatically wrong the day I drove into Colon. But I think Colombia’s turning itself around. Hell, even my guide book, written for 2007 said that the exchange rate in April of 2006 was about 2200 pesos per dollar. Now it’s about 1800 pesos per dollar. That’s an incredible turnaround in a year, and I have no doubt Colombia is starting to do something right.
I walked around a bit, trying to find a map of Colombia to no avail. But I do find a very good restaurant, where I eat to my stomach’s desire for less than $3. I use the internet for about 2 hours, calling home to talk to parents and sending emails again to let them know I’ve safely arrived in Colombia. I take the night off, and come back to the hotel and relax.
I love California. I can simply tell people that I drove down from Los Angeles, California, and they immediately know where that is. I’m sure I would have much harder time with Idaho or something.
One thing I did like about Panama was that when I was driving there, it was very clear that I was joining a league of a few. I pay much more attention to license plates during this long trip, and perhaps that’s why I was in such a hurry to get out of Mexico. There were so many tourist cars there. Even in Tikal, Guatemala, there were American registered cars parked at the hotel. But when I got down to Panama, there was virtually no one from the States in sight. A good feeling, being part of a few, but a bad feeling, being all alone and a target.