Five reasons Americans should choose Panama over the Caribbean, with day trips to boot



Panama. It’s a small nation of about 3.3 million inhabitants, with a land size roughly equal to South Carolina. It’s the southernmost country in Central America, and if not for its mind-bogglingly thick Darien National Park, the so-called Panamerican Highway could run from Alaska to the bottom of South America. But you knew all of that, didn’t you? What you may not be aware of, however, is just how stunning and tourist-friendly this incredible nation is. I recently embarked on a trip to Panama City and beyond, scurrying along the beach towns in Chame and the mountains of El Valle. If you’ve been considering a tropical getaway, particularly now that Old Man Winter is hovering over the United States, I’ve got five good reasons you should head south rather than east. Click on after the break for more, but only if you’ll kosher with mentally burning those final vacation weeks you’ve got socked away.

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1) Panama uses US dollars as its currency

You heard right: US dollars! The how, who, what and why goes back quite some time and would probably only interest historians, but present day argonauts will certainly appreciate skipping the Robbery Machine (i.e. the foreign exchange booth) as they sail through customs. Panamanians may call it the Balboa, but make no mistake — the paper currency used throughout Panama is the US dollar, and coins are either US minted coins or Panamanian counterparts of identical size and weight. You may notice coins with slightly different markings, but if it looks like a quarter, you can bet it’ll spend like a quarter. (Fun fact: Panama’s quarters are accepted in American parking meters and drink machines.)


Bustling Panama City

But in all seriousness, it’s a huge relief to simply fly (or drive!) to Panama with the same currency that you use at home. No funky conversions to remember. No leftover foreign currency to exchange on the return trip. Just cold, hard, US cash. Better still, prices for nearly everything in Panama are far below US levels, so you’ll be fetching far more for your Benjamins here than back in the States.

2) Easy to reach (by plane or car)

Ever tried flying into a Caribbean airport? Okay, so it’s not that difficult, but your flight paths are generally limited. Really limited. Most of the outlying islands connect to the States via one major route, likely to Miami, Florida. One problem in South Florida, and you’re looking at a vacation-destroying delay. Tocumen International Airport (PTY) is a real-deal airport, with direct flights to a smorgasbord of locations around the world. It’s the only major airport in Central America with two runways, and it also happens to be one of the cheapest to fly into thanks to a healthy amount of airline competition. In the States alone, you’ll find direct flights to Houston, Miami, Orlando, Dallas, Los Angeles, Washington, D.C., Newark and New York City.


Downtown Casco Viejo

Moreover, Panama’s closer than you might think to the States. It’s just 2.5 hours away by plane from Miami, and since it’s in the Eastern Time Zone, a good chunk of you folks won’t even have to adjust to an oddly setting sun. Let’s put it this way — you can get from Virginia to Panama in less time than it’d take you to fly from Virginia to California.


Life in El Valle

Oh, and did we mention that you can drive? For the absolutely carefree adventure travelers out there (with the right insurance policy), you can drive right through Texas, into Mexico and down the Panamerican Highway to Panama. We wouldn’t recommend this without being fluent in Spanish, but hey — talk about the ultimate road trip!

3) Diversity of land

Sure, Aruba has desert landscapes, and Turks and Caicos has the Conch Sound. Grand Cayman has shockingly blue waters fit for diving. But good luck finding a single place in the Caribbean, using a single currency, accessible via a single roadway system that offers picturesque beaches, white water rafing outfits and canopy tours. Panama is startlingly diverse; on one end, you’ve got the practically impassable Darien National Park. On the other, there’s Bocas Del Toro, a pristine hot spot for surfers. In between, you’ve got Boquete laden with flora, the lush mountains of El Valle, unspoiled beaches in Coronado and modern day nightlife awaiting you in Panama City. If you can’t find a landscape that suits you in Panama, you’re probably not looking hard enough.


Drive up to El Valle

Also, Panama road rules mimic those of America; folks drive on the right, and the Panamerican Highway runs nearly the length of the country. You’ll have far fewer signs and far more ambiguous speed limits, but it’s not too difficult to grok for the amateur traveler. After all, that’s what GPS rentals are for. I’m not saying driving in Panama is simple, but it’s totally doable. And yes, every single kilometer is an adventure of epic proportions.

4) No risk of hurricane

Here’s one you probably haven’t considered. In recorded history (reaching back to 1851 by some reports), not a single hurricane has made landfall on Panama. It remains the only Central American nation to avoid being struck by one, making it far safer to travel to than many of the islands hovering out in the Atlantic. No risk of hurricanes, yet still providing 365 days of pure, tropical bliss in terms of weather.


Gorgona Beach

5) It’s still natural… or should I say, unspoiled

Look, the Caribbean is a truly magnificent place. Given the sheer quantity of countries and cultures, it’s impossible — nay, unfair — to lump it all together as one. There are most certainly locales in the Atlantic chain of islands that are relatively unspoiled. Prune Island comes to mind, but that’s just one of many. But by and large, the unspoiled islands in the Caribbean don’t meet an earlier criteria here: ease of access. Some of these require multiple plane hops, ferry rides and golf cart shuttles. That may intrigue some, but the fewer connections in our schedule, the less potential follies we see.

Panama, on the whole, is still largely untouched by tourism. Just over one million non-natives visited last year, which definitely isn’t many in the grand scheme of things. Just an hour outside of Panama City lies a string of beach towns — Punta Chame, Gorgona, Coronado, El Palmar and San Carlos (just to name a few). You’ll find just enough lodging here to stay comfortably (rental condos are just now starting to pop up), but you’ll still get luscious views of the oceans (yeah, oceans — you can swim in the Pacific and Atlantic in under two hours if you’re a good enough driver) and jaw-dropping looks at nearby mountain ranges. You’ll be hard-pressed to find more than a few dozen Earthlings on Panama’s central beaches, particularly during the week. Postcard-quality shots abound, and it’s comically easy to lose the world and find your soul in secluded places like Punta Chame.


El Valle mountains

There’s just enough tourist infrastructure here to keep vacationers occupied — white water rafing, zipline excursions and fishing expeditions abound — but you’ll bypass the glut of chain restaurants, overpopulated coastlines and horrific traffic (outside of Panama City, of course) that typify so many other tropical destinations.

Needless to say, your trip will be made a great deal easier if you speak at least some Spanish. I barely speak a word of it, and managed to get by just fine. People are genuinely warm here, and the diversity and beauty of the land is certainly awe-inspiring. If you’re looking to take your next vacation in Panama, feel free to take a peek at a few recommended day trips I’ve compiled here:

[Images provided by Dana Jo Photography]

Photo of the Day (9.22.10)


Swimming in foreign waters means you sometimes run into unexpected friends — like this starfish that Flickr user nimso334 found in the San Blas Islands off the coast of Panama. The super-sized starfish was found after diving 25 feet down into the crystal clear water and after this photo was snapped, he was returned to the sea floor.

Have any travel photos that make amazing memories? Upload them to our Flickr pool and we just might select one for our Photo of the Day feature

Cockpit Chronicles: FOQA kept these pilots out of trouble in Panama

I was excited, thrilled really, to fly with one of my favorite captains for five, 4-day trips over the next month and a half. If you had to work with just one captain for so many days in a row, it may as well have be someone you consider a close friend, and Dave fits that description. In fact, two years ago I wrote about my last trip to Panama City, Panama, and the captain on that flight just happened to be Dave.

But this time, on the first day of our trip to Panama we would soon be reminded just how busy flying an airplane can get down there.

First a little background is in order.

Usually we can pull up the latest weather at the airport we’re arriving at either via a print out from our ACARS or by listening to an automated voice report that’s available to us as far as two hundred miles away.

It’s always a good idea to pull up the conditions as soon as possible so you can prepare for the runway and approach that’s in use.

There are a number of options for aligning with the runway and descending low enough to see the airport. There’s the most common ILS approach, which can usually guide you to around 200 feet above the ground before a pilot has to see the runway, or a VOR approach which typically takes you down to 500 feet or the more recent GPS approaches which fall somewhere in between.

I couldn’t hear the ATIS until we were just 60 miles away from the airport for some reason. Surely a weak transmitter, I figured.

The cloud cover was reported at 2000 feet scattered with more than ten kilometers of visibility. A piece of cake, we decided. We’ll surely see the airport when we’re within about 20 miles and then fly visually to land to the south.

Controller Confusion

As it happened, the weather wasn’t exactly as advertised. It soon became clear that the Panama air traffic controllers were going to give us an approach to fly. They wanted us to fly nearly 60 miles south of the airport, before continuing back north of the airport and landing again to the south when we could see the runway.

We were following a ‘company’ 737 which was about ten miles ahead of us. “Company” is how air traffic control describes traffic from the same airline.

We asked if we could fly the GPS approach and land to the south, into the wind of course, which would be far less complicated. They initially agreed.
Our company 737 ahead of us was also equipped to fly a GPS approach, and they seemed to think this was a good idea as well, so they asked for the same. The weekend controllers in Panama seemed to have a hard time understanding the request, and told the 737 that they would have to fly well south of the airport as originally planned.

It was looking like this was going to be our fate as well, since it was unlikely the controllers would have two airplanes approaching from opposite directions. At this point, the 737 pilots wanted to know the current winds at the airport.

“Say your winds.” The pilot asked in the traditional fashion.

The Panama controller didn’t understand and asked him to repeat.

“What are the winds at the airport?” He repeated.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand, sir.” The approach controller responded.

I gave a surprised look over to Dave. How could the controllers not have learned this key phrase. They should have even expected the question, since they were having the pilot approach from the south with a slight wind at the tail and then circle around to land into the wind. If the winds were light enough (less than 15 knots for the 737 and less than 10 knots for our 757), the whole circling maneuver could be eliminated and a straightforward ILS could be accomplished.


Dave and Kent

We try to keep things simple, both in our phraseology and our approach requests with ATC due to the difficulty in communicating in some Central and South American countries.

When it was our turn, we set up for the circling approach and briefed everything that would happen and what we should expect. This approach briefing is done by pilots after determining which approach is in use and the radios and instruments are set up for that specific approach.

But ATC had given us a change in the approaches to be flown three times, requiring a new briefing and set-up for each approach. Just as we were about to start down from 2,000 feet on what was known as a circling approach, the tower controller offered us our fourth change-the straight-in approach and landing.

Dave was flying and so I asked the controller what the winds were. Anything more than ten knots on our tail and we wouldn’t be able to accept the approach, even though it was a long, dry runway.

The tower controller began to tell us what the winds had been, and how they’d fluctuated, and what they now were. Unfortunately, in the timeit took for him to tell us about the winds, we were now too high to begin the approach. The airplane would no longer be stabilized for either approach, since he hadn’t cleared us for anything, and since we weren’t cleared to descend in time, we would no longer be ‘stable’ for the landing.

I turned to Dave and mentioned how late his clearance for the ILS was, and how we would be late in starting our descent.

“We won’t be stable.” I said after the controller offered us the approach choice.

Dave immediately agreed, and by the time the controller was done giving us his weather channel description of the winds, we announced we would have to go around and set up again for another approach. This would give us time to assess the winds, choose the right approach and then brief it. It would also prevent us from exceeding any parameter for a stabilized approach below 1,000 feet.

Dave accelerated and began the climb. I struggled to get a new heading and altitude from the controller, while responding to Dave’s rapid requests for the gear to be brought up, and the flaps retracted one notch at a time. There isn’t a time while flying that’s more busy or critical, and the difficulty in understanding the clearance was adding to the excitement.

Dave turned in the direction of the written missed approach direction, which is a safe bet, but not always what the controllers are asking for. I asked for the heading and altitude three times, each time not understanding what the controller was telling us. For a moment I gave up, and instead focused on what Dave needed to get established for the climb. The weather was good enough that I knew we were safe to fly the published missed approach.

Finally, when things calmed down I was able to ask ATC for just the heading. And then just the altitude. It turns out Dave was flying the missed approach procedure precisely as ATC had requested.

FOQ-wha?

Each of our airplanes we fly is equipped with FOQA, pronounced ‘folk-wa’, or Flight Operations Quality Assurance, a monitoring system that records every parameter for every approach over a two-week period. So if we had been just two knots fast before we extended the flaps or we didn’t have them fully extended by 1,000 feet, or if we were high or fast, the captain would be called and asked to explain, with immunity for the most part, what caused this approach to be out of tolerances.

You may see more go-arounds as a result of FOQA, since pilots would rather not have to explain why they didn’t go around when faced with an approach that was outside of safe parameters.

FOQA has allowed the company to zero in on areas that need improvement through more training and to find ways to prevent the occurrences from happening again. The program was met with resistance initially, but we’ve come to learn that it seems to be improving safety instead of being used as a high tech method to penalize pilots.

We set up for the straight-in landing after the go-around, and the landing was made without incident. While taxiing in, the controller apologized for the late clearance and the many changes that were given.

Dave and I rehashed everything that happened on the arrival while eating dinner. We vowed to try for a much less exciting arrival the next time. As we waited for the bill to come, I mentioned my amazement at the size and amount of birds near the Caracas airport. Dave said that in his view, Panama City had far greater-both in numbers and size-birds. We would soon find out up close just how right he was. Check out next week’s post to hear about that.

Cockpit Chronicles takes you along on some of Kent’s trips as an international co-pilot on the Boeing 757 and 767 based in Boston. Have any questions for Kent? Check out Plane Answers or follow him on Twitter @veryjr.

Top 10 souvenir hats from around the world

Ever notice how every airport, tourist trap, and hotel gift shop is trying to sell you some kind of hat? That’s because a hat is local. In a globalized world where McDonald’s is universal and Duty Free in Dubai sells the exact same sunglasses and chocolate as Duty Free in Detroit, it’s nice to know that there are certain things (like hats) that you can still only find in certain far-flung destinations. Once upon a time, the hats hanging in the back of your closet said loads about where you’ve been and what you’re been up to, especially if you have the real deal. Read and learn:

Fez This red felt hat may be named after the tourist-loving Moroccan city of Fes, but it’s traditionally found all across the former Ottoman empire as well as much of the Muslim world. Worn by: dancing monkeys, Muammar al-Qaddafi, bellhops in Cairo. Cheap knock-offs: The Shriners and some Istanbul bazaars. The Real Deal: Moroccan hatmakers, markets in Cyprus and the Balkans, the Turkish army.
Panama hat A finely handwoven straw hat still made in Ecuador, even though Panama takes all the credit. Worn by: Teddy Roosevelt,Panama Jack, and the poor laborers who dug the Panama Canal. Cheap knock-off: Paper imitations are made in China and sell for little while lesser-quality imitations are made and sold all over Panama for under $30. The Real Deal: Like sheets, what counts in authentic Panama hats is thread count. The tighter the weave, the better the quality (real Panama Hats will hold water and have more than 1,000 fibers per square inch). Hats must be made in Ecuador from the toquilla plant and have a black silk band around the base. Buy at fine shops in Panama, in Ecuador, or else for several thousand dollars at Christie’s in London.Pith helmet Yep, just like the ones the old explorers used to wear as they swatted flies away from their face in the Congo. Originally made from cork covered in canvas, the classical pith helmet has graduated into an elaborate accessory for spiffy uniforms all across the British empire. Worn by: Dr. Livingstone, Bangkok policemen. Cheap knock-offs: Johannesburg airport,Vietnam. The Real Deal: best found in antique shops and some old English granny’s attic, though certain safari suppliers make a darn good attempt.
Sombrero Says ¡Mexico! more than tequila and food poisoning. Huge and silly, the hat makes a lot more sense when you’re in Mexico and trying to stay out of the sun. Worn by: Mariachi bands, drunk college students, people passing through Miami airport. Cheap knock-offs: Available widely in Cancun, Tijuana, and Ciudad Juarez. The Real Deal: Made in Mexico from either woven straw or stiffened felt.
Beret The classic French felt cap was born in the Pyrenees and has gone global due to fashion magazines. Worn by: wannabe artists, paramilitaries, Monica Lewinsky, Basque separatists, gauchos in Patagonia, and Che Guevara (this hat gets around). Cheap knock-offs: Raspberry-colored–the kind you find in a second-hand store. Also sold at Euro Disney and from tables on Rue d’Arcole on the île de la cité in Paris. (Clue: if it says Paris in glitter script, it’s not real.) The Real Deal: the basque hatmaker “Boinas Elósegui” still makes authentic berets (or boinas in Spanish), as does Tolosa Tupida in Argentina. Make sure it says 100% wool on the label.
Nón lá A symbol of Vietnam itself, the simple-yet-serene nón lá is that conical straw hat worn by Asians in rice paddies everywhere, giving that mysterious illusion that people have triangles for heads. Cheap knock-offs: China owns the market share on these hats, both real and fake, so look for the ones the locals buy and wear (oddly, the hipsters haven’t latched onto this one, yet). The Real Deal: Rural Vietnamese markets.
Shapka (Russia) The fur shapka (or ushanka) is not just an ironic, silly holdover of Cold War aesthetic. When in Russia in the winter, fur wrapped around the head does wonders and millions of people still wear them. Worn by: indie rock stars (ear-flaps down), Vladimir Putin‘s security detail, Cheap knock-offs: Souvenir stands in St. Petersburg, Moscow, and Kiev. These days, if it’s got a Soviet emblem on it, it’s made in China and is 100% fake. The Real Deal: Your policy on fur aside, high-quality shapkas are made with silver fox pelts, cost a small fortune, and are considered lifetime investments. Still, real shapkas can be made with any fur: rabbit, raccoon, mink, and even dog. In the good old days, you could get a hatmaker to sew you one for a few American dollars–those days are now long gone.
Tweed cap “Top o’ the mornin'” sounds less offensive when you’re tipping a tweed cap. Again, here’s another hat that makes great sense once you confront the local weather–in this case, the blustery drizzle of Scotland and Ireland where tweed was born. Worn by: incorrigible hipsters,your grandfather, college professors. Cheap knock-offs: H&M fall fashion line (every year), also J. Crew and J.C. Penneys. The Real Deal: In Donegal, try Magee of Ireland, who claim to have invented one of the standard tweeds. Also, any non-chain high street shop in the UK where some royal insignia is sewed on the inside of the cap. Don’t overlook British second-hand charity shops, which are like little tweed goldmines.
Andean hand-knit gorro Engineered to make you look like as adorable and non-violent as Droopy, these cute woolen hats with little ear flaps and ties are still wildly popular among Canadian snowboarding bums, as well as serious people with serious glasses. Still, they’re made for the cold, high-altitude climate of the Andes and South America’s Altiplano. Worn by: indie bands touring in the fall, at least one sensitive character in the last indie movie you saw, the Peruvian flute bands playing in Paris and everywhere else. Cheap knock-offs: Gap, J. Crew, Oxfam & any other feelgood fair trade, 100% organic kind of place. If The Real Deal: In Ecuador, Bolivia, Peru or Chile. If you’re a purist, you should get the 100% alpaca wool. Again, avoid the ones with words spelled out in block-knit letters, e.g. BOLIVIA!
Keffiyeh But is it a hat, or is it a scarf? To an almost nauseating degree, the Arab keffiyeh has moved even beyond the tourist claptrap and become a mainstream American college dormitory fashion accessory. Whether showing solidarity with Palestinians or keeping the blowing sand from going down your shirt, this versatile wrap/hat makes a lot more sense in the desert. Worn by: Practically everyone, including the Olsen twins. Cheap knock-offs: Thailand, Venice Beach, 7th Avenue street sellers, and even Urban Outfitters. The Real Deal: Jordan, Palestine, and across the Middle East.

The Hostel Life comes to reality TV

From the controversy that was the “Real World” to today’s situation that is “The Jersey Shore”; from the depths of “Survivor” to the details of “Amazing Race”, travel is no stranger to TV. As new reality shows continue to come to life, one new travel spot is taking another approach: the Web.

The Hostel Life is a new adventure series that offers viewers a unique experience into the adventures of hostel hopping around the globe. The website will host an interactive series in which viewers can explore various parts of the world with The Hostel Life cast members and vote on the next destination.

The series will begin in Panama City, Panama, and where the cast and crew go from there is up to the viewers. Backpackers adhere to a modest weekly budget of $300-$400 to demonstrate the options available when traveling on a limited budget.

“The most intriguing element within the show is the drama created by simply experiencing travel. We [myself, the cast and crew] are merely participants in how the story unfolds. Some of the situations and scenarios are just as surprising to us as they are to our viewers,” said Mehdy Ghannad, creator of The Hostel Life.

The concept is interesting, but I wonder if characters like Puck and Snookie can survive in a hostel world. The pilot season is scheduled to be filmed next month, and all webisodes will be viewable at www.TheHostelLife.com.