I had the San Blas islands on my mind ever since I saw some pictures of the place in a Colombian hostel. Fellow backpackers traveling north would sail from the Caribbean coast of Colombia to Panama stopping just north off the Panamanian coast to chill at the San Blas islands. The lack of a roads between Panama and Colombia was the main reason why people would sail, but that is a whole another story. I could not afford a $500 sailing trip that came with limited food options and sea sickness so I flew to Panama city instead and was determined to make my way there no matter what.
There were many trip options to choose from. Hostels all over Panama had binders of the different island descriptions and it got almost too confusing to decide what island to go to. I think it’s the easiest to break it down like this:
San Blas is made up from more than 350 tiny island. Only about 50 of these are inhabited by the Kuna Indians. Most islands are very primitive. The natives have to ship all their food from the mainland on small boats. This is not an easy task as the closest civilization on the mainland is about one hour away of driving on small, whiny and at times dangerous roads. Huge holes emerge around corners in the middle of the road. It’s like a roller coaster. For anyone who gets car sick even a bit, pick the front seat or you will need to stop to vomit.
I was ready at 5.30 am at my hostel with other backpackers waiting for the ride to come and pick us up and take us to the coast line. Arriving exactly latin american time, about one hour later, our ride showed up. In my car was a smelly old Australian, 2 funny Americans drinking beer at 7 am and a quiet German couple. It was a long and bumpy ride through the bushes before we arrived at the river side that looked like a bus stop for backpackers and local Kuna Indians. An interesting manifestation. Different boats were waiting to take people to the different islands. We loaded or supplies on our boat and met with our fellow island mates.
It took us an hour from when we arrived at the river side until we actually left the mainland. Latin American time. We watched the returning travelers come on boast from the islands, the locals loading up the boats with supplies and arranging us into different boats. After a lot of confusion, translating and waiting we were finally in the boat heading out to the sea. I arranged my tour to the Senidup cabins located on an island 30 min boat ride. We passes several tiny islands, some inhabited, some not. As we were approaching our home for the next while, I realized that the island was on the size of half a football stadium. Tony, the owner was the captain of the small boat explaining to us the Kuna Indians values and believes. When I stepped off the boat I felt as if I’ve just arrived in paradise, A paradise with hell breaking loose up in the clouds blessing us with rain. As all of us gathered under the cafeteria roof while Tony took a dip in the water. After the storm settled, we had our first horrible dinner consisting of rice, overcooked pasta and some sort of sauce. The drinks were flowing and reggae music was in the air. All of us enjoyed the fresh caribbean breeze and the island atmosphere.
Staying at the San Blas island was an experience like no other, and far from comparable to any other beach vacation. We were on this 400m2 island. Every day we were woken up by the sound of a kuna indian blowing a sea shell calling for breakfast. The breakfast consisted of a bun, butter, a fake cheese slice. Sometimes if you gor lucky you got a flat egg omelette. The best part of the breakfast was the instant coffee. After breakfast Tony offered his services to take us out to other islands to snorkel, swim with starfish and just to sightsee. After coming back from a trip it was lunch time. It was usually the best meal of the day. Freshly cut fish with a salad and rice. I guess the only bad part was when you got the tail or the head of the fish. Every lunch was like a russian roulette. The rest of the day we spent suntanning, walking around the island, a 3 minute activity or playing any game we could put together like coconut bowling or mystery green fruit bocce ball. By the time it was dinner, we all had a few drinks in us and were playing guessing games about what we would eat. Then, sound of a sea shell again. We gather around a long table and usually get overcooked pasta with unknown sauce, whoever gets there first gets a piece of chicken and perhaps a slice of tomato. Looking back now I think all of us mostly filled up on beer. Evenings came early. We chilled in the hammocks, on the beach steering out to the darkness and listening to the tiny waves sliding onto the beach. Tony put reggea music on and a few people usually started dancing…
It’s a paradise, but you get restless faster than you think. By the time it was time go go, I had mixed feelings. I was happy to return to a place with more live to it and to eating more ten rice, fish and over cooked pasta. But as the boat sailed away from the island, I was sad to see my fellow islanders wave goodbye and to see the island disappear on the horizon.
Panama 