Where do I begin?
I booked a flight from Edmonton to Panama 10 days out from my departure date for $720 CAD. The trip lasted two weeks from June 10 to June 24th, 2015
Unlike many trips that are reported upon on this forum, this trip was not to bang chicks et cetera. I'm not saying I can't hold my own, or that that didn't happen (see below), but I also wanted to get my feet wet in the pool that is known as travelling solo. Solo travel virgin right here.... well, not anymore.
Day 1 & 2: Stir Crazy in Denver Airport
19 hour layover in Denver International. A one-way taxi to downtown Denver is roughly $80 USD and I wasn't about to pony up another $80 for a hotel so I didn't leave my gate. Did pushups, watched computer movies, slept a wee bit, made some videos and played with a lacrosse ball I brought with me for trigger-point therapy/ self myo-fascial release. Check out Kelly Starrett if you need to get better in the gym.
Arrived in Panama at 7:00 PM local time, took a $30 dollar taxi to the Calidonia barrio which is halfway between Casco Viejo (the historic, old Panama next to the ocean you see in all the pretty pictures.) and Marbella (central banking district where Trump Tower and Hard Rock Hotel are).
I wasn't about to deal with all the bohemian vibes that emanate from hostels, let alone chase my tail in a new city trying to find a place with vacancy. Therefore I settled on Hotel Acapulco, a decent hotel for $40 USD/ night that blasts A/C in all the rooms - a necessity in 35 degree Celsius weather
The hotel has a reasonably priced 24 hour restaurant in the lobby. You can fill yourself up and get something to drink for under $10 USD
There isn't a whole lot to do in the immediate vicinity, and I wouldn't wander around at night if you're a tall white guy with Google Translate-worthy Spanish, I crashed hard and was out by 10:30 PM
Day 3: Condog Does Panamá in a Day, Then Flies to Bocas and Also Does Australia.
In retrospect, one of the best days I have had in recent memory.
Woke up at 04:30 AM and couldn't sleep. Swiped Tinder for as long as humanly possible. Put on a collared shirt, black pants and biker boots and walked downstairs. Yes, it was fucking roasting, but I wasn't about to walk around a new city in flip flops and a sleeveless like those frat boy bumpkins with fluorescent coloured festival shades. Fuckfaces, the lot of them.
Walked down to Cinta Costera (the oceanside thoroughfare) in ten minutes and crossed 12 lanes of traffic to get to the main path along the breakwater where most people jog, cycle and rollerblade. I had my first view of Panama City locals and............ not impressed.
Keeping in mind that it was only 7:00 AM, I stayed positive and continued my early morning jaunt down the "boardwalk" towards Mercado de Mariscos AKA "The Fish Market"
On the internet everyone (read: dumb people) bitches and moans about the smell, and how it's so dirty and yada yada yada. Remember, it's a 2nd/ 3rd World daily fish market that is primarily for locals. You get what you pay for, and what you pay for is raw fish from a cup and cheap beer.
It's quite an experience, dare I say a mandatory visit is required. Saying that, it's just a place for cheap shit, don't go in expecting to experience some existential epiphanies. How's that for alliteration.
My last comment on the Fish Market is don't be put off when you need to walk past a big group of black Panamanians leering at you. Chin up, shoulders back and let your cock swing to the floor when you swagger past.
I proceeded to explore Casco Viejo - the old town - and it's pretty neat. Took photos, walked around, bought an americano for pennies. Saw some young, cool looking Commonwealth and American chicks walking around, talking about the repercussions of finding dark matter I presume. It was still only 8:00 AM so I was mashing my "Tourist" button pretty hard; taking photos of old crumbly buildings, old crumbly cathedrals and the Palacia de Presidencial, the bosses house.
Along the way I noticed that the place is getting gentrified to the gills. American real estate companies and "modern living" artisans of all assortments are setting up shop, renovating the previously oft-mentioned old crumbly buildings that I am so fond of. Took notice of a myriad of different thin crust pizza parlors and dimly-lit lounges, then I ghosted the joint.
I dog-eared the neighbourhood and bounced back to my hotel for some A/C and cheap beers. Along the way I walked through a really poor part of town that had a big Chinatown-type gate. It was fucking dirty, like poor people sleeping on top of rubble and trash dirty, but buying stuff here is also dirty cheap. If you need some knock off sunglasses, try to find your way here.
I riff raff to reception in my shitty Spanglish then hop in a taxi to visit Miraflores locks, the mainstay of the world famous Canal. Don't pay more than $8-10 USD one way. After I pay my $15 entrance fee, they tell me that the next ship won't come through the tiered locks until 02:00 PM. The time is 10:30 AM and my flight to Bocas del Toro leaves at 04:00 PM. They also tell me the restaurant is not open and even if it were they enforce a 2 beer limit per visitor.
I take the obligatory picture to show I was there to my perhaps-never-existing future children and walk through the history room where it elucidates to you all the tribunals the poor Chinese, French and Panamanian labourers had to endure in order to dynamite their way across the country. Tens of thousands of people died in the process and the whole thing is a Modern Wonder of the World. The history is not lost on me, yet maybe I am just not easily entertained because I found the whole thing to be a somewhat tedious endeavor for patrons and a money grab for the proprietors.
Canal Verdict: Watch a ship go through it or else take a picture from somewhere where they won't charge you and simultaneously keep you from catching a buzz.
I pack my shit and taxi to Albrook Airport for $6 USD to catch my $110 flight to Bocas. Decent amount of cuties. Plane not even full, yours truly had a whole row to himself. 1 hour later and we are wheels down.
Enter Bocas Town.
I bullshit with two Aussie brothers and walk into town. I stayed at a hostel called Mondo Taitu, a ramshackle affair that seems more in sync with the tin shack townships of District 9-esque South Africa. It markets itself as a party hostel and for $10 a night for a dorm bed (don't bother with a private room here, go somewhere nicer) it is hardly the Ritz, but my time there was without conflict.
Immediately I make acquaintances with the hot girls that are staying there. After, me and a German kid who basically wore a flashing neon sign proclaiming "FRIENDZONE" went out to dinner with 7-9 German, Canadian, Australian, Swiss and Swedish girls. Each one was at least a real-time 6.5, or what the membership of the "manosphere" might call an 8 in a similar blog post.
It was great to disprove the notion of "dirty backpacker" girls because each of them spent at least 15 minutes getting dolled up, and they were mostly of the privileged persuasion - AKA "I am here debasing my known lifestyle so I can be seen feeding orphans & amputees, building houses for lepers, getting pandas to fuck while not stepping on beetles." Time for a selfie...
After dinner at the restaurant 3 buildings south of Hotel Bocas del Toro (the name escapes me), we went back to the hostel to pre-drink and play drinking games. With a multitude of chicks and one guy, it turned sexual fairly quick.
Statements posed in "Never Have I Ever:"
Been in jail
Been caught having sex
Had sex in a car
Had sex in a toilet
Had sex on a beach
Had sex in the ocean
Cheated on my boyfriend/ girlfriend/ informal fuckbuddy
Walked in on someone having sex
and finally, something completely different:
Had a threesome. Word of advice: always drink to this one! Even if you haven't. None of the girls had, but I drank for it and the tension was palpable and for a self-amusing clown like me, it was hilarious.
Next was a version of spin the bottle, where the spinner asks any question they want to the victim and they have to answer. Similar questions as the previous game.
After getting good and drunk we went to the only place in town you want to be at on a Friday: Selinas. It is a good quality hostel but more importantly, they have a DJ/ party time on Friday nights and the bar is literally on stilts on the water. Being the brave trendsetter that I am, I promptly doffed my sweat-sodden button-down and swan dived from the railing into the arms of my luxurious lover that is Carribean seawater. Hot girls quickly followed suit.
I neck $1 beers like the proud Canadian I know myself to be and leave the joint around 3:30 AM to find some meat on a stick. Accompanying me is a 21 year old dolled-up Chinese Australian girl. After we get meat I drunkenly make out with her, but she shoves her tongue so far into my throat that I can't breathe and my nose ejaculates salty booger water onto her upper lip. I laugh it off like the devil-may-care cad I am and push her up against a wall *PRO TIP*. She loves it and it's on. I'm thinking out loud just how I can make boomboom with this chica. We slink into our hostel (in reality I think I just repeatedly fell until I got there) and I take her behind the bar which is long since closed and whip out a jimmy, a Magnum jimmy. Just as I start to get my rhythm going she complains she isn't wet (double standards) and we should try tomorrow. I get my 8-10 pumps in then call it a night, with me and my boy thoroughly peeved at the circumvention of my carnal climax that just occurred. +1 and Australian flag captured.
Like my brother from a Nubian mother says, "It was a good day".
So that was Friday.
Day 4: A Nothing Day, Practice Spanglish With Spanish Drug-Takers at Night and Meet the Black Honduran
Real hungover when I woke up, can't remember the first part of the day, partly because I was still drunk and partly because.... actually liquor is the only reason. Walked around town, ate some food, played on the computer with photos and updated the family. No one was interested in doing anything because they were hungover, but luckily some Germans were taking coke their whole trip and were always down for whatever, if whatever was tobacco, weed, beer and rum... Mom, I finally made it!!
As my dorm of 8 beds is vacated until only me and a group of German volunteer girls remain, the Australian girl comes in to mess around with me because she couldn't make her hole wet the night before and now she wants what she believes she is owed. We mess around in the bunk for like, 3 hours, knuckles deep in her lady parts nigh the whole time. Finally I grab a rubber and start giving it to her, but it's the top bunk and rickety walls in the place, I didn't feel like bringing the house down. Problem is, if you could call it a problem, she's so tight and she's been fucking with me for so long I last like 6 minutes. Would've made her orgasm post-me-cumming but I thought I heard keys in the doors lock so I pulled out quicker than the USA in Grenada. Almost felt bad at first, but then I remembered how self-amusement is the main goal of crazy adventure sex. Thanks Krauser and Roosh.
Point = Condog.
On Saturday night me, the Australian girl I fucked and this dude from California take a $1 water taxi to Aqualounge on Carenero Island. I meet two half brothers from Spain, one of whom lived quite hard. At 31 he looked closer to 51. Cocaine's a helluva drug. Speaking of darkness, I spot a sexy black girl (my favourite) standing by herself at the bar. I strike up a conversation and she is Carribean Honduran and wicked into me. No, before you ask she was not a hooker. I'm rolling with my Aussie chick so I grab her digits and try to hook her up with the Australian brothers I met on the flight in. Apparently they had already had a go at her and she rebuffed their advances. Easy come, easy go, plus a decent ego boost to boot.
We bounce, I get more meat on a stick back in Bocas Town on Isla Colon and play with a pitbull. Pass out in the Australians bed but no funny business 'cause it's a full dorm. I will get mine though.
Day 5: Rain Delay, Red Frog Beach, Party Favours and a Bookstore
So for $35 USD myself and a bunch of other First Worlders were going to take a boat tour at 10:00 AM to Cayo de Zapatillas, a deserted island even Les Stroud couldn't survive on. However, in the morning there was a torrential downpour lasting until almost 11:30 - #rainforest - so after tracking down our local guide (a thoroughly absentee lot these locals are when it comes to $$$) he tells us we will go tomorrow, Sunday.
Around 12:30 PM, Me and the Australian, who is proving to be quite a good girl by way of cooking and cleaning around the hostel for me etc. take a $5 one way water taxi to[b] Isla de Bastimentos to chill at Red Frog Beach with the San Francisco fellow who got wasted with us the night prior.[/b] We rap with the boatman to come back and pick us up at 4:00 PM.
***WORD OF CAUTION***
A fellow young reveller from Argentina was left stranded on one of these island when he prepaid for his return trip and the boatman never came back. Thoroughly dehydrated, he resorted to smashing smaller coconuts upon bigger coconuts for the sake of sustenance. By the grace of a gringo's greenery he was able to cavort his way back to us, quite wholly alive.
People talk about Wizard Beach being pretty unreal but the verdict was unanimous, Red Frog is bigger and better. There is also an inescapable $3 entrance fee to the island. At the beach, the riptide is fairly strong but nothing you can't escape from. Surf waves are decent but you wouldn't lug a surfboard to a place like this, and there is not much in the way of rentals, just a few local children selling you coconuts and empanadas.
We return to the hostel and I shower and shave - I grow facial hair like Sidney Crosby - and eat some homemade burritos.The meat from the market is dirt cheap and I bought an onion, 2 peppers and an avocado the size of two fists for $1.50 from a street side fruit and veggie stall. We walk across the street from our hostel, Mondo Taitu to chill with a skinhead German and his black girlfriend, their German buddy and a fellow Canadian from Quebec. They had checked out because they had bugbeds in their room... Welcome to Panama. They were big drug takers so we all do a few keys and break open the Don Abuelo rum and cokes. Some time later we head to this bar known as The Bookstore. Every few days they have a Canadian dude and some locals play live music. In fact, a former drummer of Santana, Yeyo Montana is from Bocas Del Toro and he was absolutely setting the joint off the whole time we were there. Pretty sociable guy too.
There is a whole lot of spillover onto the street so the amigos I rolled there with are chilling outside hacking darts. The Australian is getting hit on by a Newfie and some Yanks sitting in like, some sort of prayer circle near the gutter. I see the Honduran at the Bar with one of her friends who ends up being a hardcore tranny. I spit game at her (the Honduran) and it gets sexual super quick. In my shitty Spanish I basically say, "You're hot, I want to fuck you but I am staying in a hostel." As I put the Australian in a holding pattern I circle back for one last rendezvous with my chica negra. The new friends I made tell me they are leaving back to the hostel. I go to leave because I want to splooge my DNA on the Australian but she gives me a cold shoulder so I blow her off and bounce back to the Bookstore solo to try and fuck this girl.
Luckily she is staying in an apartment in town because she works in Bocas. We end up at hers where she showers and I chill. Realizing I forgot the rubbers at home, I convince her that I got the OK from a doctor 2 weeks prior (true story). Lights out, music on, dick in, +1. Easily Top 2 in the category of tightest girls I have ever been with. I split her in half for 30 minutes, just leaking on her like a whore in church. She is going on and on about the size of my dick - cheers Honduras - as I make a mess of her upper body. She says to me how she has never gotten fucked like that before. It's been 5 months since she got laid. Afterwards she is quivering as she asks what more I want her to do for me.
"I want a massage chica!"
I pass out. Thanks Game.
Day 5: Zapatillas Tour, Afternoon Delight, La Iguana and More Boom Boom
Almost lost my whole copy of this just now. Thank god for Ctrl+C.
I wake up at 9:40 AM and leave the chica with a sore pussy and an empty bed and try to put my ducks in a row. I walk out of her ghetto apartment with it's wrought-iron gates on each floor and begin meandering down the sodden street in the general direction of my hostel. As I'm seeking sobriety in muddled potholes of rainwater while stray cats wander aimlessly across my path, I remember I was supposed to go on that 6 hour boat tour at 10:00 AM. I increase my speed from a walk into a brisk jog and get back to the hostel to find the Australian bewildered at my absence, so I come up with a bombproof alibi:
"Oh yeah, you pissed me off last night so I went back to the bar and got drunk with some locals and stayed at one of their apartments"
Slyer than Stallone.
We head to the water taxi station and board the dinghy with a dozen other people. We stop to see dolphins on the way and then they drop us off for 2 1/2 hours at Cayo de Zapatilla, where everyone starts frolicking around in the lukewarm water and the slowly eroding jungle beachline. I take my Australian girl around to the other side of the water and do her in the ocean.
Cross that off the bucket list.
Just as I finish a bunch of people come round the spit and see us and assume what's going on, but hey, this is Panama fuckhead.
I start playing coconut Olympics - shotput specifically - to keep me occupied as she GoPro's her tiny little Asian heart away. The rain starts coming down and we have to fuck off back to our house-on-stilts base camp before snorkeling. The visibility is shit and I'm not feeling like looking at starfish so I pull the chute along with a good-looking black couple from Montreal and post up at the restaurant while the other gueros do their thing. On the way back to Bocas Town we stop to look at some sloths, or as the locals call them, "slut-monkeys." If I did it again I would pay no more than $25 USD compared to the $35 I ended up paying.
We kick it back to the hostel where we decompress and eat food and I maintain my buzz with some more $1 beers, Balboa specifically. After I pass out for 3 hours and have my dorm vacated entirely, she comes in and wakes me up with a neck massage - Oh, Lordy! - and wants me to, in no uncertain terms, fuck her brains out because it's her last night in town. Begrudgingly, I accept her terms and give her a proper 20 minute piledriving fuckathon, whilst leaking sweat beads all the time onto her tits that are approximately the size of a bloodstain left from a squashed mosquito. After I shoot my bolt, I tell her I still want to party and that I'm going to the bar. She says she is "sleepy" so she is going to stay in.
"Cool," I say, "see you in the morning"
I head to the Sunday night spot, La Iguana bar southernly located down on the main drag on the east side of the street. I arrive around 11:30 PM and it's hardly blowing the top off anything. Virtually only American frat fuck types and some white chicks gettin jiggy to the top 40 tracks being played much too loudly given the venue. I rap with a Spanish couple and after spending the $8 I brought with me, who do I see but the Honduran. She grabs my ass and I basically tell her let's go fuck right now. As I go to leave the bar, I have to laugh because at the exit, the bouncer just gives me a cup for my beer so I may continue on down the main strip.
Welcome to Panama.
When we get to her apartment she says her pussy is still sore, so I think, "Perfect" this should be fun. I give it to her and she's going on with the "Papi! Papi!" I blow out the wad and pass out as she says it's probably not a good idea to walk home at 4:00 AM drunk as shit. Point taken, I suppose.
Day 6: One Last Hurrah But It Just Doesn't Cut It.
The trip got a whole lot better after this day so I'll keep it short. Manage to say peace to the Aussie as she is walking out the hostel. She knows I was fucking around but who cares. Everyone I had partied with was gone and I had been drunk since Friday afternoon so I took it moderately easy. Got drunk again, met a pair of Austrian dudes who were trying to wheel the same American chicks at our hostel. Before I found out about game I would have been choked and gotten in a funk about how he is stepping on my proverbial toes, but this time I hi-fived him and just tried to get us all laid. Smoked some fools at pool then smoked some pot around 11:30 PM with some locals. In Bocas they pretend to be your friend but all they want is money from you. That must be my white privilege talking... I rapped with some American dude that were sailing from New Jersey down to Hawaii through the Canal, then played Jenga and fucked off back to the hostel to crash by 12:30 AM. Felt like a bitch because they all came stumbling in at 3:00 and I didn't have the heart to get out of bed. Oh well.
Day 7: Fly to Panama, Chill out at Hotel
Spend the morning flim-flamming about whether or not I leave. Since I'm only in country for two weeks I'm ballin' out with my transportation. One flight please! I get to Panama City in an hour and stay at the Hotel Acapulco again. Not so pleased in retrospect because as of the penning of this paragraph I now know of much more superior places to stay in better parts of town with cooler people for a better price. But I didn't know that on Day 2 or Day 7. I enjoy my air conditioning, shower, drink some beers and watch a movie. A nothing day that is required every so often.
Day 8: Bounce to Los Mostros, Meet Former Israeli Intelligence, Play with Colombian Hookers
Checkout was at 3 PM so I fuck around on the laptop until then, after which I mosey over to the Hostel Los Mostros. Little did I know that Panama has a massive Jewish investor community (a la the Chinese and the Hong Kongers in Vancouver) and this hostel is owned by Israelis.
***Thanks for totally not reiterating the stereotype of Jews dominating foreign economies by fractional-reserve lending practices to fellow Jews***
Essentially for better or worse, 80% of the clientele is Israeli. I like the Israeli look - Natalie Portman and Bar Rafaeli being prominent in my mind - so I dig this place. I meet a gaggle of Israeli girls doing their culturally mandated "I-just-got-out-of-the-military-so-now-I-travel-around-the-world" trip. One of them is a big-titted smokeshow, but sidenote, one of her front teeth is so fucking yellow a panhandler from the 1886 gold rush would mistake it for a nugget of bullion. They have to leave at 4 AM the next day for a sailing trip so I don't press the issue. But after we get on the beers my new Israeli wingman Almohg suggests we hit some casinos to check out some merchandise.
"Merchandise?" I say.
It turns out that virtually all the best Colombian hookers come to Panama to turn tricks, and like how you find crabs under rocks on beach, you find whores next to slots in the casino.
After hitting up La Rana Dorada in Casco Viejo for pizza and beers, we splurge on a $4 taxi to downtown. We go to two separate casinos and I see some of the most beautiful women ever. Period. 36-24-36 type bodies, flawless skin; the type that most average Andy Asssholes comment upon on Instagram and say "fart on me" or some such juvenile salacious bullshit. After I ask how much as my opening line and scare away a few skittish ones, my Israeli hombre advises me against being so forthwith, and to just play with them and talk to them but not mention money. Ok, I think, too easy. However, due to my upbringing, as soon as the first harlot asks me to buy her a $9 beer that's worth $0.65 in the corner store, I laugh in her face and tell her to buy me one. Shockingly, that doesn't make her pussy wet.
After, we go to the "nightclub" called Elite. In reality there is a few topless dancers but it's more like a way around just calling it a brothel. Again, 1000-1250% mark up on Balboa beer, which if you are familiar with Panama you know it as the local swill. After a $20 cover and one round, I get fed up with only being able to hit on hookers so I grab my buddy and we hit one last bar on the way back to home base.
At 1:30 AM we go to a bar near Calle Uruguay (If I could remember what it was called I would) but it's too expensive of cover so we post up on the patio connected to it. Luckily there is still a bar here. But once again, only hookers and johns. No normal girls because I think they're intimidated by the quality. One cougar-ish whore with a notch count that's probably higher than McQueen's takes a liking to me, so I Spanglish-tize her and try to get her to fuck for free cause no one else wants her, but no dice. It seems that staying in an Israeli hostel isn't conducive to easy sex. Oh well.
One last hurrah for me, I see a cute 20 something pro posted up on the corner of the patio. In a bold and daring move after I say "Hey," I pick her up and throw over my shoulder and try to walk down the street. Suffice to say, it was a fruitless endeavor, but I got a kick out of it and I'm sure some passerby was amused when they caught a glance up her cocktail dress. Afterwards I tried to get a goodbye smooch but all she would give me was a cheek. But holy shit, my principles pre-empted me from buying one of these girls but my cock was screaming "Do it fuckface!" C'est la vie.
Day 9: Hanging with the Commandos: Jewish Traditional Pray-offs, Drink-offs Buffets and Shabbas.
Well, the next night my Jewish boy Almog and the two Orthodox twins take me to a Jewish halfway house of sorts (google Beit Lubavitch) to partake in the party they have before their orthodox Sabbath (Shabbat) where they can't use anything that makes their lives easier, essentially. Think Donnie not rolling in Big Lebowski...
They set up like 60 seats on two Great Hall-esque tables on the second level of this guys townhouse. After pretending to be able to read their Hebrew scriptures, I lip-sync a song about Zion or whatever and drink their ceremonial red wine that's tastes like slightly off cranberry juice. I wash my hands 3 times each with a silver chalice/ pitcher and start feasting.
Coleslaw, khallah, chicken, meatballs, whitefish, stirfrys, dessert, chocolate and mixed nuts... As if that wasn't enough, hosts brother walks in with his arms full of 40 oz. bottles of Absolut and Chivas Regal. After putting one down every 6 feet on the long tables, the host stumbles over to me and asks if I like whisky. Hearing my enthusiasm, he pours me about fingers of Glenfiddich and continues on his merry way, suit, cummerbund and curly sideburns complete.
Long story short, I tried to bang the cute Jew sister but they went to bed as soon as we got back to the hostel and we stayed up most of the night doing drugs and smoking so... No dice.
Days 10-17: Teaching Foreigners to Shotgun Beers, Buying Drugs in Panama's City of God from 10 Yr Olds, La Rana Dorada, A Beauty British Couple, Trump Tower's 67th Floor Infinity Pool, Hour Long Bunk Bed Dormitory Blowjob, Carolina the Masseuse, Too Much Coke so I Missed my Flight
Ok since this has been a year in the waiting and my memory is shot from 11 months of bufoonery since that trip, I'll attempt conciseness.
After the Israelies shot their bolt and took off somewhere, I stuck around at Los Mostros to see who would come next. Whether it was good or bad, an actress on a year trip around the world, from Vancouver but living in Edmonton (where I'm located) turned up to stay at the hostel, as long as a lovely boozing and drug-taking married couple in their early 30's from London's East End.
Between the 4 of us over the next 5 days, we ventured around Panama City, splitting time between Los Mostros hostel in Marbella and the hilarious Luna's Castle above Relic bar in Casco Antigua (the old town). We bought so much bloody Colombian marching powder from around the corner of the hostel, down the stairs and before Rana Dorada (decent pizza and microbrew spot that was showing the Copas footy tournament) that we were eating cigarettes and mainlining liquor as we explored around and recuperated in our swelteringly stale hostel bunks... The bunks at Luna's have curtains for each bunk so it makes pulling a little easier.
Me and the actress did the temporary travel couple thing and messed around for a few days as we took drugs. I got so fucked up one night off of probably 4 hollywoods and 10 key bumps the night before she went on a sailing trip to San Blas that she blew me for like, 75 minutes in a dorm full of 8 people. I tried to reverse skullf*** her but the creaking from the hardwood was too much... At 4AM she had to go take a cab to the bus terminal and literally couldn't keep sucking because her damn jaw was locking up... Suffice to say I never finished and am still left wanting to this day.
I ended up grabbing my gear and bugging out back to Los Mostros because I wanted a pool and cheaper beer and I only had a few days left and I didn't want to constantly be spun out for the remainder. Photos needed to be taken etc. etc.
I met some new people, a pair of Aussie brothers and their American friends, a cute little 19 year old from Switzerland and a few Israelis were still tagging around. The ache in my balls was still quite palpable. It was like the feeling you get when you decide to cum instead of piss before you bang strange and then you spend the next hour standing over your toilet bowl at a 45 degree angle trying to eliminate every last drop of piss and vinegar and blood and pussyjuice from your 3/5ths hard member that you just spent 12 minutes trying to push rope with. But I digress.
Chick was cute, guys were cool but I was so done from the last week all I wanted to do was lay in that beauty hammock and smoke Panama's shitty green crack.
We decided to hit Marbella up again and head up to Trump Tower. We stopped at the infinity pool on the top floor before heading down to the casino level to an all-you-can-drink champagne bar from like 6-8 pm for $15 bucks. I end up leaving the Aussies' at one point because all their friends turned out to be pillowbiters and I wasn't in the mood to schmooze queers and not at least get some free shit from it.
After making 150% on my money in a few hands of blackjack, I cashed my Asian-manufactured Latino Casino Circle Coins and went to the cab curb. I asked what there was to do at 2 AM in my best Spanglish and buddy with a nice Nissan suggested a massage. Thinking I'm the Equatorial Emancipator of Pussy with one gram on me,one gram in me, I jump into buddy's unmarked car for a 20 minutes drive.
I get to this place, the bouncer asks if I want a cigarette. Fuck yeah man! I walk in and there's one of those bulletproof windows with the little speaker and the U shaped place for cash. I tell the old hag I want a massage and she doesnt understand, so she writes on a piece of paper:
$120
1 Drink
1 Massage
1 Sex
Ohhhhh... so this is what it's all about... She asks what I want to drink and I tell her "WHISKY" so she pours me a fist of Jack and a splash of ginger and leads me to a big ol' U-shaped couch in one of the back rooms. She tells me to just relax as literally 14-16 women/girls/sluts/knockouts one-by-one do their little ass-shake walk over to me wearing 4 inch heels and shake my hand.
The proprietress asks me who I would like so I point to the little tossaround that first approached me.
Do the dirty, I stroke my own ego by flipping this girl around and pumping her while she gives me the "Aiii! Ciudadoso...
" Sorry masseuse, It's one size fits all!
After, I flee this degeneracy and head back to the hostel with my testicular tease terminated.
+1??
Pretty sure I just paid for a massage and half a bottle of JD with my natural charisma taking care of the rest...
Got back to hostel where all the Aussies were still doing blow and drinking, so I joined them despite having a 10 AM flight.
I get to the airport literally at 9AM but the cunts at United or American or whoever I was flying with aren't at the check in desk. I run around Tocumen sweating from my hangover yet wired from the residual cocaine plying my hormonal system with "Told you so's" and find out through a speakerphone that it's mandated to be there 1 hour before or else you don't get to check in. Period.
Gay.
I go back to the fleabag hotel I stayed at on my first night because I need AC and privacy in order to un-fuck myself. I rebook a one-way flight back to Edmonton at the same cost as my roundtrip ticket was. Fuck.
I spend the next few days making a couple videos and writing out the bulk of this story.
I get a facebook message on my way back through Denver airport from my buddy asking me if I wanted to cook ribs around Western Canada competitively for 9 weeks. That story is in the works. It has been an extremely insolvent and reckless 11 months since I took that flight home. I'm writing this at 1:03 AM in Edmonton on May 25th, 2016, 11 and a half months since I got back and I gotta be up at 6 AM.
Hope you enjoyed this you freaks.
-C
P.S. Pics on my old Laptop and old Computer but I'll post soon
TL
R Spent 17 days in Panama in Summer 2015, Banged 3 girls, got blowies or whatever with another, spent roughly $2500-3500 CAD, thought I got HIV from rawdogging a black Honduran but that was just the pot cookies kicking in on my flight out of Bocas. Would recommend.
I booked a flight from Edmonton to Panama 10 days out from my departure date for $720 CAD. The trip lasted two weeks from June 10 to June 24th, 2015
Unlike many trips that are reported upon on this forum, this trip was not to bang chicks et cetera. I'm not saying I can't hold my own, or that that didn't happen (see below), but I also wanted to get my feet wet in the pool that is known as travelling solo. Solo travel virgin right here.... well, not anymore.
Day 1 & 2: Stir Crazy in Denver Airport
19 hour layover in Denver International. A one-way taxi to downtown Denver is roughly $80 USD and I wasn't about to pony up another $80 for a hotel so I didn't leave my gate. Did pushups, watched computer movies, slept a wee bit, made some videos and played with a lacrosse ball I brought with me for trigger-point therapy/ self myo-fascial release. Check out Kelly Starrett if you need to get better in the gym.
Arrived in Panama at 7:00 PM local time, took a $30 dollar taxi to the Calidonia barrio which is halfway between Casco Viejo (the historic, old Panama next to the ocean you see in all the pretty pictures.) and Marbella (central banking district where Trump Tower and Hard Rock Hotel are).
I wasn't about to deal with all the bohemian vibes that emanate from hostels, let alone chase my tail in a new city trying to find a place with vacancy. Therefore I settled on Hotel Acapulco, a decent hotel for $40 USD/ night that blasts A/C in all the rooms - a necessity in 35 degree Celsius weather
The hotel has a reasonably priced 24 hour restaurant in the lobby. You can fill yourself up and get something to drink for under $10 USD
There isn't a whole lot to do in the immediate vicinity, and I wouldn't wander around at night if you're a tall white guy with Google Translate-worthy Spanish, I crashed hard and was out by 10:30 PM
Day 3: Condog Does Panamá in a Day, Then Flies to Bocas and Also Does Australia.
In retrospect, one of the best days I have had in recent memory.
Woke up at 04:30 AM and couldn't sleep. Swiped Tinder for as long as humanly possible. Put on a collared shirt, black pants and biker boots and walked downstairs. Yes, it was fucking roasting, but I wasn't about to walk around a new city in flip flops and a sleeveless like those frat boy bumpkins with fluorescent coloured festival shades. Fuckfaces, the lot of them.
Walked down to Cinta Costera (the oceanside thoroughfare) in ten minutes and crossed 12 lanes of traffic to get to the main path along the breakwater where most people jog, cycle and rollerblade. I had my first view of Panama City locals and............ not impressed.
Keeping in mind that it was only 7:00 AM, I stayed positive and continued my early morning jaunt down the "boardwalk" towards Mercado de Mariscos AKA "The Fish Market"
On the internet everyone (read: dumb people) bitches and moans about the smell, and how it's so dirty and yada yada yada. Remember, it's a 2nd/ 3rd World daily fish market that is primarily for locals. You get what you pay for, and what you pay for is raw fish from a cup and cheap beer.
It's quite an experience, dare I say a mandatory visit is required. Saying that, it's just a place for cheap shit, don't go in expecting to experience some existential epiphanies. How's that for alliteration.
My last comment on the Fish Market is don't be put off when you need to walk past a big group of black Panamanians leering at you. Chin up, shoulders back and let your cock swing to the floor when you swagger past.
I proceeded to explore Casco Viejo - the old town - and it's pretty neat. Took photos, walked around, bought an americano for pennies. Saw some young, cool looking Commonwealth and American chicks walking around, talking about the repercussions of finding dark matter I presume. It was still only 8:00 AM so I was mashing my "Tourist" button pretty hard; taking photos of old crumbly buildings, old crumbly cathedrals and the Palacia de Presidencial, the bosses house.
Along the way I noticed that the place is getting gentrified to the gills. American real estate companies and "modern living" artisans of all assortments are setting up shop, renovating the previously oft-mentioned old crumbly buildings that I am so fond of. Took notice of a myriad of different thin crust pizza parlors and dimly-lit lounges, then I ghosted the joint.
I dog-eared the neighbourhood and bounced back to my hotel for some A/C and cheap beers. Along the way I walked through a really poor part of town that had a big Chinatown-type gate. It was fucking dirty, like poor people sleeping on top of rubble and trash dirty, but buying stuff here is also dirty cheap. If you need some knock off sunglasses, try to find your way here.
I riff raff to reception in my shitty Spanglish then hop in a taxi to visit Miraflores locks, the mainstay of the world famous Canal. Don't pay more than $8-10 USD one way. After I pay my $15 entrance fee, they tell me that the next ship won't come through the tiered locks until 02:00 PM. The time is 10:30 AM and my flight to Bocas del Toro leaves at 04:00 PM. They also tell me the restaurant is not open and even if it were they enforce a 2 beer limit per visitor.
I take the obligatory picture to show I was there to my perhaps-never-existing future children and walk through the history room where it elucidates to you all the tribunals the poor Chinese, French and Panamanian labourers had to endure in order to dynamite their way across the country. Tens of thousands of people died in the process and the whole thing is a Modern Wonder of the World. The history is not lost on me, yet maybe I am just not easily entertained because I found the whole thing to be a somewhat tedious endeavor for patrons and a money grab for the proprietors.
Canal Verdict: Watch a ship go through it or else take a picture from somewhere where they won't charge you and simultaneously keep you from catching a buzz.
I pack my shit and taxi to Albrook Airport for $6 USD to catch my $110 flight to Bocas. Decent amount of cuties. Plane not even full, yours truly had a whole row to himself. 1 hour later and we are wheels down.
Enter Bocas Town.
I bullshit with two Aussie brothers and walk into town. I stayed at a hostel called Mondo Taitu, a ramshackle affair that seems more in sync with the tin shack townships of District 9-esque South Africa. It markets itself as a party hostel and for $10 a night for a dorm bed (don't bother with a private room here, go somewhere nicer) it is hardly the Ritz, but my time there was without conflict.
Immediately I make acquaintances with the hot girls that are staying there. After, me and a German kid who basically wore a flashing neon sign proclaiming "FRIENDZONE" went out to dinner with 7-9 German, Canadian, Australian, Swiss and Swedish girls. Each one was at least a real-time 6.5, or what the membership of the "manosphere" might call an 8 in a similar blog post.
It was great to disprove the notion of "dirty backpacker" girls because each of them spent at least 15 minutes getting dolled up, and they were mostly of the privileged persuasion - AKA "I am here debasing my known lifestyle so I can be seen feeding orphans & amputees, building houses for lepers, getting pandas to fuck while not stepping on beetles." Time for a selfie...
After dinner at the restaurant 3 buildings south of Hotel Bocas del Toro (the name escapes me), we went back to the hostel to pre-drink and play drinking games. With a multitude of chicks and one guy, it turned sexual fairly quick.
Statements posed in "Never Have I Ever:"
Been in jail
Been caught having sex
Had sex in a car
Had sex in a toilet
Had sex on a beach
Had sex in the ocean
Cheated on my boyfriend/ girlfriend/ informal fuckbuddy
Walked in on someone having sex
and finally, something completely different:
Had a threesome. Word of advice: always drink to this one! Even if you haven't. None of the girls had, but I drank for it and the tension was palpable and for a self-amusing clown like me, it was hilarious.
Next was a version of spin the bottle, where the spinner asks any question they want to the victim and they have to answer. Similar questions as the previous game.
After getting good and drunk we went to the only place in town you want to be at on a Friday: Selinas. It is a good quality hostel but more importantly, they have a DJ/ party time on Friday nights and the bar is literally on stilts on the water. Being the brave trendsetter that I am, I promptly doffed my sweat-sodden button-down and swan dived from the railing into the arms of my luxurious lover that is Carribean seawater. Hot girls quickly followed suit.
I neck $1 beers like the proud Canadian I know myself to be and leave the joint around 3:30 AM to find some meat on a stick. Accompanying me is a 21 year old dolled-up Chinese Australian girl. After we get meat I drunkenly make out with her, but she shoves her tongue so far into my throat that I can't breathe and my nose ejaculates salty booger water onto her upper lip. I laugh it off like the devil-may-care cad I am and push her up against a wall *PRO TIP*. She loves it and it's on. I'm thinking out loud just how I can make boomboom with this chica. We slink into our hostel (in reality I think I just repeatedly fell until I got there) and I take her behind the bar which is long since closed and whip out a jimmy, a Magnum jimmy. Just as I start to get my rhythm going she complains she isn't wet (double standards) and we should try tomorrow. I get my 8-10 pumps in then call it a night, with me and my boy thoroughly peeved at the circumvention of my carnal climax that just occurred. +1 and Australian flag captured.
Like my brother from a Nubian mother says, "It was a good day".
So that was Friday.
Day 4: A Nothing Day, Practice Spanglish With Spanish Drug-Takers at Night and Meet the Black Honduran
Real hungover when I woke up, can't remember the first part of the day, partly because I was still drunk and partly because.... actually liquor is the only reason. Walked around town, ate some food, played on the computer with photos and updated the family. No one was interested in doing anything because they were hungover, but luckily some Germans were taking coke their whole trip and were always down for whatever, if whatever was tobacco, weed, beer and rum... Mom, I finally made it!!
As my dorm of 8 beds is vacated until only me and a group of German volunteer girls remain, the Australian girl comes in to mess around with me because she couldn't make her hole wet the night before and now she wants what she believes she is owed. We mess around in the bunk for like, 3 hours, knuckles deep in her lady parts nigh the whole time. Finally I grab a rubber and start giving it to her, but it's the top bunk and rickety walls in the place, I didn't feel like bringing the house down. Problem is, if you could call it a problem, she's so tight and she's been fucking with me for so long I last like 6 minutes. Would've made her orgasm post-me-cumming but I thought I heard keys in the doors lock so I pulled out quicker than the USA in Grenada. Almost felt bad at first, but then I remembered how self-amusement is the main goal of crazy adventure sex. Thanks Krauser and Roosh.
Point = Condog.
On Saturday night me, the Australian girl I fucked and this dude from California take a $1 water taxi to Aqualounge on Carenero Island. I meet two half brothers from Spain, one of whom lived quite hard. At 31 he looked closer to 51. Cocaine's a helluva drug. Speaking of darkness, I spot a sexy black girl (my favourite) standing by herself at the bar. I strike up a conversation and she is Carribean Honduran and wicked into me. No, before you ask she was not a hooker. I'm rolling with my Aussie chick so I grab her digits and try to hook her up with the Australian brothers I met on the flight in. Apparently they had already had a go at her and she rebuffed their advances. Easy come, easy go, plus a decent ego boost to boot.
We bounce, I get more meat on a stick back in Bocas Town on Isla Colon and play with a pitbull. Pass out in the Australians bed but no funny business 'cause it's a full dorm. I will get mine though.
Day 5: Rain Delay, Red Frog Beach, Party Favours and a Bookstore
So for $35 USD myself and a bunch of other First Worlders were going to take a boat tour at 10:00 AM to Cayo de Zapatillas, a deserted island even Les Stroud couldn't survive on. However, in the morning there was a torrential downpour lasting until almost 11:30 - #rainforest - so after tracking down our local guide (a thoroughly absentee lot these locals are when it comes to $$$) he tells us we will go tomorrow, Sunday.
Around 12:30 PM, Me and the Australian, who is proving to be quite a good girl by way of cooking and cleaning around the hostel for me etc. take a $5 one way water taxi to[b] Isla de Bastimentos to chill at Red Frog Beach with the San Francisco fellow who got wasted with us the night prior.[/b] We rap with the boatman to come back and pick us up at 4:00 PM.
***WORD OF CAUTION***
A fellow young reveller from Argentina was left stranded on one of these island when he prepaid for his return trip and the boatman never came back. Thoroughly dehydrated, he resorted to smashing smaller coconuts upon bigger coconuts for the sake of sustenance. By the grace of a gringo's greenery he was able to cavort his way back to us, quite wholly alive.
People talk about Wizard Beach being pretty unreal but the verdict was unanimous, Red Frog is bigger and better. There is also an inescapable $3 entrance fee to the island. At the beach, the riptide is fairly strong but nothing you can't escape from. Surf waves are decent but you wouldn't lug a surfboard to a place like this, and there is not much in the way of rentals, just a few local children selling you coconuts and empanadas.
We return to the hostel and I shower and shave - I grow facial hair like Sidney Crosby - and eat some homemade burritos.The meat from the market is dirt cheap and I bought an onion, 2 peppers and an avocado the size of two fists for $1.50 from a street side fruit and veggie stall. We walk across the street from our hostel, Mondo Taitu to chill with a skinhead German and his black girlfriend, their German buddy and a fellow Canadian from Quebec. They had checked out because they had bugbeds in their room... Welcome to Panama. They were big drug takers so we all do a few keys and break open the Don Abuelo rum and cokes. Some time later we head to this bar known as The Bookstore. Every few days they have a Canadian dude and some locals play live music. In fact, a former drummer of Santana, Yeyo Montana is from Bocas Del Toro and he was absolutely setting the joint off the whole time we were there. Pretty sociable guy too.
There is a whole lot of spillover onto the street so the amigos I rolled there with are chilling outside hacking darts. The Australian is getting hit on by a Newfie and some Yanks sitting in like, some sort of prayer circle near the gutter. I see the Honduran at the Bar with one of her friends who ends up being a hardcore tranny. I spit game at her (the Honduran) and it gets sexual super quick. In my shitty Spanish I basically say, "You're hot, I want to fuck you but I am staying in a hostel." As I put the Australian in a holding pattern I circle back for one last rendezvous with my chica negra. The new friends I made tell me they are leaving back to the hostel. I go to leave because I want to splooge my DNA on the Australian but she gives me a cold shoulder so I blow her off and bounce back to the Bookstore solo to try and fuck this girl.
Luckily she is staying in an apartment in town because she works in Bocas. We end up at hers where she showers and I chill. Realizing I forgot the rubbers at home, I convince her that I got the OK from a doctor 2 weeks prior (true story). Lights out, music on, dick in, +1. Easily Top 2 in the category of tightest girls I have ever been with. I split her in half for 30 minutes, just leaking on her like a whore in church. She is going on and on about the size of my dick - cheers Honduras - as I make a mess of her upper body. She says to me how she has never gotten fucked like that before. It's been 5 months since she got laid. Afterwards she is quivering as she asks what more I want her to do for me.
"I want a massage chica!"
I pass out. Thanks Game.
Day 5: Zapatillas Tour, Afternoon Delight, La Iguana and More Boom Boom
Almost lost my whole copy of this just now. Thank god for Ctrl+C.
I wake up at 9:40 AM and leave the chica with a sore pussy and an empty bed and try to put my ducks in a row. I walk out of her ghetto apartment with it's wrought-iron gates on each floor and begin meandering down the sodden street in the general direction of my hostel. As I'm seeking sobriety in muddled potholes of rainwater while stray cats wander aimlessly across my path, I remember I was supposed to go on that 6 hour boat tour at 10:00 AM. I increase my speed from a walk into a brisk jog and get back to the hostel to find the Australian bewildered at my absence, so I come up with a bombproof alibi:
"Oh yeah, you pissed me off last night so I went back to the bar and got drunk with some locals and stayed at one of their apartments"
Slyer than Stallone.
We head to the water taxi station and board the dinghy with a dozen other people. We stop to see dolphins on the way and then they drop us off for 2 1/2 hours at Cayo de Zapatilla, where everyone starts frolicking around in the lukewarm water and the slowly eroding jungle beachline. I take my Australian girl around to the other side of the water and do her in the ocean.
Cross that off the bucket list.
Just as I finish a bunch of people come round the spit and see us and assume what's going on, but hey, this is Panama fuckhead.
I start playing coconut Olympics - shotput specifically - to keep me occupied as she GoPro's her tiny little Asian heart away. The rain starts coming down and we have to fuck off back to our house-on-stilts base camp before snorkeling. The visibility is shit and I'm not feeling like looking at starfish so I pull the chute along with a good-looking black couple from Montreal and post up at the restaurant while the other gueros do their thing. On the way back to Bocas Town we stop to look at some sloths, or as the locals call them, "slut-monkeys." If I did it again I would pay no more than $25 USD compared to the $35 I ended up paying.
We kick it back to the hostel where we decompress and eat food and I maintain my buzz with some more $1 beers, Balboa specifically. After I pass out for 3 hours and have my dorm vacated entirely, she comes in and wakes me up with a neck massage - Oh, Lordy! - and wants me to, in no uncertain terms, fuck her brains out because it's her last night in town. Begrudgingly, I accept her terms and give her a proper 20 minute piledriving fuckathon, whilst leaking sweat beads all the time onto her tits that are approximately the size of a bloodstain left from a squashed mosquito. After I shoot my bolt, I tell her I still want to party and that I'm going to the bar. She says she is "sleepy" so she is going to stay in.
"Cool," I say, "see you in the morning"
I head to the Sunday night spot, La Iguana bar southernly located down on the main drag on the east side of the street. I arrive around 11:30 PM and it's hardly blowing the top off anything. Virtually only American frat fuck types and some white chicks gettin jiggy to the top 40 tracks being played much too loudly given the venue. I rap with a Spanish couple and after spending the $8 I brought with me, who do I see but the Honduran. She grabs my ass and I basically tell her let's go fuck right now. As I go to leave the bar, I have to laugh because at the exit, the bouncer just gives me a cup for my beer so I may continue on down the main strip.
Welcome to Panama.
When we get to her apartment she says her pussy is still sore, so I think, "Perfect" this should be fun. I give it to her and she's going on with the "Papi! Papi!" I blow out the wad and pass out as she says it's probably not a good idea to walk home at 4:00 AM drunk as shit. Point taken, I suppose.
Day 6: One Last Hurrah But It Just Doesn't Cut It.
The trip got a whole lot better after this day so I'll keep it short. Manage to say peace to the Aussie as she is walking out the hostel. She knows I was fucking around but who cares. Everyone I had partied with was gone and I had been drunk since Friday afternoon so I took it moderately easy. Got drunk again, met a pair of Austrian dudes who were trying to wheel the same American chicks at our hostel. Before I found out about game I would have been choked and gotten in a funk about how he is stepping on my proverbial toes, but this time I hi-fived him and just tried to get us all laid. Smoked some fools at pool then smoked some pot around 11:30 PM with some locals. In Bocas they pretend to be your friend but all they want is money from you. That must be my white privilege talking... I rapped with some American dude that were sailing from New Jersey down to Hawaii through the Canal, then played Jenga and fucked off back to the hostel to crash by 12:30 AM. Felt like a bitch because they all came stumbling in at 3:00 and I didn't have the heart to get out of bed. Oh well.
Day 7: Fly to Panama, Chill out at Hotel
Spend the morning flim-flamming about whether or not I leave. Since I'm only in country for two weeks I'm ballin' out with my transportation. One flight please! I get to Panama City in an hour and stay at the Hotel Acapulco again. Not so pleased in retrospect because as of the penning of this paragraph I now know of much more superior places to stay in better parts of town with cooler people for a better price. But I didn't know that on Day 2 or Day 7. I enjoy my air conditioning, shower, drink some beers and watch a movie. A nothing day that is required every so often.
Day 8: Bounce to Los Mostros, Meet Former Israeli Intelligence, Play with Colombian Hookers
Checkout was at 3 PM so I fuck around on the laptop until then, after which I mosey over to the Hostel Los Mostros. Little did I know that Panama has a massive Jewish investor community (a la the Chinese and the Hong Kongers in Vancouver) and this hostel is owned by Israelis.
***Thanks for totally not reiterating the stereotype of Jews dominating foreign economies by fractional-reserve lending practices to fellow Jews***
Essentially for better or worse, 80% of the clientele is Israeli. I like the Israeli look - Natalie Portman and Bar Rafaeli being prominent in my mind - so I dig this place. I meet a gaggle of Israeli girls doing their culturally mandated "I-just-got-out-of-the-military-so-now-I-travel-around-the-world" trip. One of them is a big-titted smokeshow, but sidenote, one of her front teeth is so fucking yellow a panhandler from the 1886 gold rush would mistake it for a nugget of bullion. They have to leave at 4 AM the next day for a sailing trip so I don't press the issue. But after we get on the beers my new Israeli wingman Almohg suggests we hit some casinos to check out some merchandise.
"Merchandise?" I say.
It turns out that virtually all the best Colombian hookers come to Panama to turn tricks, and like how you find crabs under rocks on beach, you find whores next to slots in the casino.
After hitting up La Rana Dorada in Casco Viejo for pizza and beers, we splurge on a $4 taxi to downtown. We go to two separate casinos and I see some of the most beautiful women ever. Period. 36-24-36 type bodies, flawless skin; the type that most average Andy Asssholes comment upon on Instagram and say "fart on me" or some such juvenile salacious bullshit. After I ask how much as my opening line and scare away a few skittish ones, my Israeli hombre advises me against being so forthwith, and to just play with them and talk to them but not mention money. Ok, I think, too easy. However, due to my upbringing, as soon as the first harlot asks me to buy her a $9 beer that's worth $0.65 in the corner store, I laugh in her face and tell her to buy me one. Shockingly, that doesn't make her pussy wet.
After, we go to the "nightclub" called Elite. In reality there is a few topless dancers but it's more like a way around just calling it a brothel. Again, 1000-1250% mark up on Balboa beer, which if you are familiar with Panama you know it as the local swill. After a $20 cover and one round, I get fed up with only being able to hit on hookers so I grab my buddy and we hit one last bar on the way back to home base.
At 1:30 AM we go to a bar near Calle Uruguay (If I could remember what it was called I would) but it's too expensive of cover so we post up on the patio connected to it. Luckily there is still a bar here. But once again, only hookers and johns. No normal girls because I think they're intimidated by the quality. One cougar-ish whore with a notch count that's probably higher than McQueen's takes a liking to me, so I Spanglish-tize her and try to get her to fuck for free cause no one else wants her, but no dice. It seems that staying in an Israeli hostel isn't conducive to easy sex. Oh well.
One last hurrah for me, I see a cute 20 something pro posted up on the corner of the patio. In a bold and daring move after I say "Hey," I pick her up and throw over my shoulder and try to walk down the street. Suffice to say, it was a fruitless endeavor, but I got a kick out of it and I'm sure some passerby was amused when they caught a glance up her cocktail dress. Afterwards I tried to get a goodbye smooch but all she would give me was a cheek. But holy shit, my principles pre-empted me from buying one of these girls but my cock was screaming "Do it fuckface!" C'est la vie.
Day 9: Hanging with the Commandos: Jewish Traditional Pray-offs, Drink-offs Buffets and Shabbas.
Well, the next night my Jewish boy Almog and the two Orthodox twins take me to a Jewish halfway house of sorts (google Beit Lubavitch) to partake in the party they have before their orthodox Sabbath (Shabbat) where they can't use anything that makes their lives easier, essentially. Think Donnie not rolling in Big Lebowski...
They set up like 60 seats on two Great Hall-esque tables on the second level of this guys townhouse. After pretending to be able to read their Hebrew scriptures, I lip-sync a song about Zion or whatever and drink their ceremonial red wine that's tastes like slightly off cranberry juice. I wash my hands 3 times each with a silver chalice/ pitcher and start feasting.
Coleslaw, khallah, chicken, meatballs, whitefish, stirfrys, dessert, chocolate and mixed nuts... As if that wasn't enough, hosts brother walks in with his arms full of 40 oz. bottles of Absolut and Chivas Regal. After putting one down every 6 feet on the long tables, the host stumbles over to me and asks if I like whisky. Hearing my enthusiasm, he pours me about fingers of Glenfiddich and continues on his merry way, suit, cummerbund and curly sideburns complete.
Long story short, I tried to bang the cute Jew sister but they went to bed as soon as we got back to the hostel and we stayed up most of the night doing drugs and smoking so... No dice.
Days 10-17: Teaching Foreigners to Shotgun Beers, Buying Drugs in Panama's City of God from 10 Yr Olds, La Rana Dorada, A Beauty British Couple, Trump Tower's 67th Floor Infinity Pool, Hour Long Bunk Bed Dormitory Blowjob, Carolina the Masseuse, Too Much Coke so I Missed my Flight
Ok since this has been a year in the waiting and my memory is shot from 11 months of bufoonery since that trip, I'll attempt conciseness.
After the Israelies shot their bolt and took off somewhere, I stuck around at Los Mostros to see who would come next. Whether it was good or bad, an actress on a year trip around the world, from Vancouver but living in Edmonton (where I'm located) turned up to stay at the hostel, as long as a lovely boozing and drug-taking married couple in their early 30's from London's East End.
Between the 4 of us over the next 5 days, we ventured around Panama City, splitting time between Los Mostros hostel in Marbella and the hilarious Luna's Castle above Relic bar in Casco Antigua (the old town). We bought so much bloody Colombian marching powder from around the corner of the hostel, down the stairs and before Rana Dorada (decent pizza and microbrew spot that was showing the Copas footy tournament) that we were eating cigarettes and mainlining liquor as we explored around and recuperated in our swelteringly stale hostel bunks... The bunks at Luna's have curtains for each bunk so it makes pulling a little easier.
Me and the actress did the temporary travel couple thing and messed around for a few days as we took drugs. I got so fucked up one night off of probably 4 hollywoods and 10 key bumps the night before she went on a sailing trip to San Blas that she blew me for like, 75 minutes in a dorm full of 8 people. I tried to reverse skullf*** her but the creaking from the hardwood was too much... At 4AM she had to go take a cab to the bus terminal and literally couldn't keep sucking because her damn jaw was locking up... Suffice to say I never finished and am still left wanting to this day.
I ended up grabbing my gear and bugging out back to Los Mostros because I wanted a pool and cheaper beer and I only had a few days left and I didn't want to constantly be spun out for the remainder. Photos needed to be taken etc. etc.
I met some new people, a pair of Aussie brothers and their American friends, a cute little 19 year old from Switzerland and a few Israelis were still tagging around. The ache in my balls was still quite palpable. It was like the feeling you get when you decide to cum instead of piss before you bang strange and then you spend the next hour standing over your toilet bowl at a 45 degree angle trying to eliminate every last drop of piss and vinegar and blood and pussyjuice from your 3/5ths hard member that you just spent 12 minutes trying to push rope with. But I digress.
Chick was cute, guys were cool but I was so done from the last week all I wanted to do was lay in that beauty hammock and smoke Panama's shitty green crack.
We decided to hit Marbella up again and head up to Trump Tower. We stopped at the infinity pool on the top floor before heading down to the casino level to an all-you-can-drink champagne bar from like 6-8 pm for $15 bucks. I end up leaving the Aussies' at one point because all their friends turned out to be pillowbiters and I wasn't in the mood to schmooze queers and not at least get some free shit from it.
After making 150% on my money in a few hands of blackjack, I cashed my Asian-manufactured Latino Casino Circle Coins and went to the cab curb. I asked what there was to do at 2 AM in my best Spanglish and buddy with a nice Nissan suggested a massage. Thinking I'm the Equatorial Emancipator of Pussy with one gram on me,one gram in me, I jump into buddy's unmarked car for a 20 minutes drive.
I get to this place, the bouncer asks if I want a cigarette. Fuck yeah man! I walk in and there's one of those bulletproof windows with the little speaker and the U shaped place for cash. I tell the old hag I want a massage and she doesnt understand, so she writes on a piece of paper:
$120
1 Drink
1 Massage
1 Sex
Ohhhhh... so this is what it's all about... She asks what I want to drink and I tell her "WHISKY" so she pours me a fist of Jack and a splash of ginger and leads me to a big ol' U-shaped couch in one of the back rooms. She tells me to just relax as literally 14-16 women/girls/sluts/knockouts one-by-one do their little ass-shake walk over to me wearing 4 inch heels and shake my hand.
The proprietress asks me who I would like so I point to the little tossaround that first approached me.
Do the dirty, I stroke my own ego by flipping this girl around and pumping her while she gives me the "Aiii! Ciudadoso...
" Sorry masseuse, It's one size fits all!After, I flee this degeneracy and head back to the hostel with my testicular tease terminated.
+1??
Pretty sure I just paid for a massage and half a bottle of JD with my natural charisma taking care of the rest...
Got back to hostel where all the Aussies were still doing blow and drinking, so I joined them despite having a 10 AM flight.
I get to the airport literally at 9AM but the cunts at United or American or whoever I was flying with aren't at the check in desk. I run around Tocumen sweating from my hangover yet wired from the residual cocaine plying my hormonal system with "Told you so's" and find out through a speakerphone that it's mandated to be there 1 hour before or else you don't get to check in. Period.
Gay.
I go back to the fleabag hotel I stayed at on my first night because I need AC and privacy in order to un-fuck myself. I rebook a one-way flight back to Edmonton at the same cost as my roundtrip ticket was. Fuck.
I spend the next few days making a couple videos and writing out the bulk of this story.
I get a facebook message on my way back through Denver airport from my buddy asking me if I wanted to cook ribs around Western Canada competitively for 9 weeks. That story is in the works. It has been an extremely insolvent and reckless 11 months since I took that flight home. I'm writing this at 1:03 AM in Edmonton on May 25th, 2016, 11 and a half months since I got back and I gotta be up at 6 AM.
Hope you enjoyed this you freaks.
-C
P.S. Pics on my old Laptop and old Computer but I'll post soon
TL
R Spent 17 days in Panama in Summer 2015, Banged 3 girls, got blowies or whatever with another, spent roughly $2500-3500 CAD, thought I got HIV from rawdogging a black Honduran but that was just the pot cookies kicking in on my flight out of Bocas. Would recommend.
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