So of course I didn´t go to sleep on my last (and actually first) night in Panama City, and I didn´t even get to take a shower because I forgot to set my clock an hour ahead. So as I was happily chatting about absolutely nothing with Will, the front desk guy at Mamallena, Camden walks in and tells me that it is indeed 4.30 and not 3.30 in the morning. So we rapidly got our shit together, alongside with the numerous liters of booze and after Cam said loving goodbye to her beau á la Panama, we headed off to our 4 hour journey to the other side of the country. I almost broke my neck as I literally passed out (at this point I haven´t slept for about 50 hours) despite the damn bumpy roads. We packed off the jeep and packed into little shaky boats that took us out on the river to the bay, where we actually managed to re-pack our stuff onto the Golden Eagle. We got our safety lecture from Peter, the Aussie captain, who was about 45-50 and marred by sea, where he apparently have spent his life since he was 8. We washed our dishes with sea water, took showers above the toilet and generally behaved like burly pirates, drinking rum and swaying around. The first two days we stopped at various islands in the Golfo San Blas. On the first there were actually people living, in what I counted were about 4 or 5 huts scattered around the island of about a square kilometer. So we had beer and Peter and his missus, Marlene went and actually caught us 3 lobsters for dinner. We went snorkeling and I found a beautiful shell, which probably equals in size and beauty to all the shells I ever collected. After contemplating if it is ethical to take it (or attempting to take it) home, my tourist side got the best of me. I did put up a lot of arguments against it, like ´it´s like taking a stone from Mayan ruins´or ´it´s like taking somebody´s future real estate´but hey. Being so caring all the time is demanding. So we had lobster dinner, Cam and I slept outside in the two hammocks on the front deck, which was absolutely marvellous, even though the wind was quite strong during the night. The morning view was priceless, the sun, the blue sea and the island from a little distance, it was a moment I want freeze in time and put it in a frame. The next day was largely similar and completely different at the same time. We played in the water, snorkeled, I can´t really remember what happened on which day, it was just a huge rush of joy, the salty taste and a multitude of colours that I can really recall. Oh, but I can definitely remember the feeling of pride when I managed to pry open my first ever coconut and its sweet and warm milk was pouring into my mouth. And mostly everywhere else, it was a bit difficult to control.

I was dreading the open sea part of the program, which was a 35 hour continous sailing, day and night. Thank god, some people on the boat were a bit more prepared so I actually borrowed some pills and drugged myself to sleep. So I was fine most of the time, I just tried to move and talk as little as possible. It was quite an anti-social time for our Golden Eagle, the sound was broken only by people throwing up over the rails and Camden complaining that she doesn´t know what to do, because her iron stomach prevented her from feeling anything and she was happy as a bird but had nobody to share it with. The funny thing that she actually got a bit dizzy, land-sick while taking a shower here in Cartagena, apparently it wasn´t swaying enough. Anyhow, we kept watch throughout the night, and Cam and I got the 6 to 8 shift. All we had to do is watch out for tankers or any sort of boat heading our way. Cam spotted this shadow far far away, and eventually my blind eyes got the message as well and we both stared at it trying to figure out where it was heading. While staring intently I glanced a bit to the right and as the front of the boat was bobbing up and down I spotted a massive tanker heading almost straight at us, much closer than our shadow that we were so vigilant about. I guess the lesson is much the same as many of these stories. We need to pay more attention. At some points dolphins swam around the boat, at some point Peter told us that we were a 100 miles away from any sort of land and the water was around 3 and a half kilometers deep. There was something very overwhelmingly mighty about the power of the sea and our complete insignificance. We all sighed with relief when the skyline of Cartagena appeared on the horizon. Cam and I, we went to play in the front of the boat, which kept tipping into the water, splashing the waves in our faces. It was great fun, as we approached the ´tombstones´of Cartagena. Had we only known that while the water was splashing it was also pouring into the part of the front desk where all our stuff was stored. Our big backpacks that we didn´t use as the ´day-pack´on the boat soaked in salt water and boiled in the tropical sun for 4 days. They smelled like a pack of wet dogs. Let alone the smell, but my external memory drive is ruined, my travel documents, my documents from UNAM, everything. I´m trying to twist the dear Captain´s balls to give me back at least 50 Euros, to cover some of the damage. I will report on the results of the twisting the next time. This episode was a total anti-climax for the trip, but at least in Casa Viena, where we are staying now they were able to wash our stuff. I was well-miffed about this incident, but as we were sipping our excellent Abuelo rum on a bench in Cartagena, we got to talking to this wonderfully crazy half-legged woman, who ended up drinking with us for a bit and telling us her life in a total confusion of Spanglish. She was from Medellin, and was raped by her father when she was 8. She has been a prostitute ever since, mothered 4 children and lost her leg in a domestic accident. Life has a way of showing that we should bow our head in shame and think of the millions worse off, when we encounter a minor bump on our road.

We ended up at a wonderful live concert of salsa, merengue and congas, where we stayed for a few beers, shook it up a bit, chatted to randomers and then headed home to wake up to a 37 degree day in Cartagena. Today we walked around the city for a bit in this unbearable heat and now we are trying to figure out the best, safest and cheapest way to get to Medellin.

Actually one of these randomers just walked in the hostel, called my name and said let´s have a coffee. And I can´t remember his name for shit.