at night there’s “[tag]Lord Jim[/tag]” the fantastic Conrad tale. I read about “men who live in a crazy maze of plans, hopes, dangers, enterprises, ahead of civilization, in the dark places of the sea, and their death was the only event of their fantastic existence that seemed to have any reasonable certitude of achievement.” Is that me? No doubt. read more»

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This scene could be emblematic of my trip. I’m standing outside the Tica bus station [tag]San Jose Costa Rica[/tag]. A cool breeze whips up garbage from the streets. Behind me a yellow dog studies, then growls at the swirling offal. It’s late and I’ve been waiting for over an hour. The bus is rumored to be leaving at ten for the fifteen hour crawl to Panama City. read more»

Melissa writes: “How’s it going? Can you tell me anything about life on Bocas del Toro?”

Melissa, I’m very good. For one thing, I’m not freezing my ass off on cape Cod dreaming of a better life. I visited bocas panama last year. The natives were quite hospitable. Unlike the rest of Panama they speak quite a bit of English. Partly because there are a lot of tourists, retirees, and surfers. And also because of the Jamaican/West Indian influence.

It’s very laid back, I spent my days lounging under palms; drinking mojitos from the shells of freshly killed turtles, with highly trained monkeys suckling my toes. It is indeed una buena vida mi amiga. read more»