dinesh / day 21 / casco viejo

5:21AM. A large container ship approaches the canal from the Pacific ocean

I spot a carcass floating in the water.

It’s large and pale and clearly visible even from a distance. A closer look reveals that it’s a crocodile, probably shredded by the propellers of a mammoth oil tanker.

5 am and we’re standing at the mouth of the Panama Canal. Giant vessels headed to the Atlantic from the Pacific, squeeze through locks in the canal-that are less than the length of a tennis court.

I can’t stop thinking about the Crocodile.

Canal Kill. The symbolism is cruel and yet reflective of what’s happening to the planet. In the duel between man and nature, clearly nature is having a bad century.

I have to admit that the choreography of the canal is exquisite.
The graduated steps that usher a 70,000-ton ship through the locks are like a carefully synchronized performance.

Small boats lasso the ropes to locomotives on both sides of the ship. Water begins to fill as the ship begins to rise. The locomotives slowly lead, the ship groans- but follows slowly and reluctantly.

This dance is repeated several times during the day.I realize that almost everything – from the petrol in my car to the soy sauce in my General Tso Chicken passes through this canal.

We head to Casco Viejo, the old part of Panama City in the afternoon.
It’s a stunning mix of Art deco, Caribbean, French and Colonial architectural styles.

Hungry, we stumble into a restaurant called Havana Club looking for food. ‘Buena Vista Social Club’ documentary plays on a small screen in the corner of the room. A red barbers chair guards one of the four wooden doors. I can’t help but stare at the wall to wall wood panelled bar.

The rum stained floor and the overpowering chandelier probably rescued from the ruins of an old ship envelop the room with a million stories.

5:21PM. The coolest bar in Panama City. Wish I could bring it back home.

We’re told that the last Bond movie used this neighborhood extensively as a location. I am not surprised.

Casco Viejo means ‘old helmet’ in Spanish, but  the head inside is positively young and brimming.