5:21PM. A stenciled wall in Casco Viejo.
Marathon runners will talk about ‘hitting the wall’ after they’ve burned through their glycogen reserves.
Me, I am walking into real ones.
After several 4 am wake up calls and 17-hour days, my body is in a perpetual state of craving.
Sleep, glycogen, Gatorade, chocolate with tequila flambé. I seem to be devouring anything that crosses my path.
Almost three weeks on the road, my body is beginning to protest. Reflexes are slower and the 80% humidity in the Panama air is not helping either.
I’ve been hunting for caffeine but I’ve been disappointed.
For a country that’s reputed to grow some of the best coffee in the world- it’s been surprisingly tough to find a smashing cup of coffee in Panama.
But then again it’s possible I’ve been looking in the wrong places.
Speaking of caffeine, the Coca Cola here tastes better than the one we get back in the states. And I’ve noticed this all over Latin America.
Apparently it’s got something to do with the pure cane sugar vs. the high fructose corn syrup they use back in the U.S. I’m really tempted to take a carton back with me.
We are scheduled to track the infamous ‘Red Devil’ buses in Panama City tomorrow.
In a country where not everyone can afford to own a vehicle, the Diablo Rojo’s shepherded by possessed drivers, rule the roads.
These old refurbished American school buses are basically Panamanian pieces of street art, painted in psychedelic colors.
Probably the only place in the world where you’ll find Unicorns, Britney Spears and Jesus Christ, happily sharing the same metallic canvas.
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