Friday, January 30, 2009

Some Bocas for your boca and the unfortunate shoe incident


Here is a little taste of the tropics.....




As with any vacation I take there will always be a fabulous highlight or a embarassing/horiffic incident. This time it happened to land on horrifically embarrassing. Being on the island there is no such thing as sidewalks or concrete for that matter. Most of the terrain is sandy pathways. So when you enter ones home you automatically remove your shoes before stepping in the door to keep the sand and the chitras out of your house. So I pretty much went without shoes for most of the time I was there. Except for the day we ventured to Caranero where this video was taken. It was a pretty wild trek through a jungle and since it rains off and on there is mud and all sorts of stuff to step in. My flip flops sat out for a good 4 days on the porch of our B & B getting rained on and rinsed off until I slipped them on the morning we left. They were a little wet but we were in a hurry to get to the airport so it didn't bother me. We get to the airport check our bags and surfboards and sit in the terminal. As I sit there I smell this horrible smell. We switch seats thinking that we MUST be sitting next to a trash bin or something. The new seats have the same smell. I start sniffing my homeboy CERTIAN this it is him. I give him a good sniff down and he's clean. NO, this awful smell could NOT be coming from MY person, no way. I sniff my shirt, my pits, my hands, my knees. I pick up my flip flop and OH MY DOG IN HEAVEN . It was ME. My flip flops had formed a smell so vile it would knock a buzzard off a shit wagon. No lie. Our plane was leaving in a mere 15 minutes, my bags are checked with another pair of flips. I got to the bathroom and try to rinse them off. Well, as my luck would have it someone just flushed and in Panama you always wash your hands before you flush due to water pressure issues. So, no water. I had a half bottle of Purell that I dumped in my shoes and on my feet. Now I had swamp ass smelling shoes with a hint of Purell. Not good. There was nothing left to do but put the flip flops back on and hope for the best. We get on our puddle jumper back to Panama City. I sit down, slip off the shoes and put my backpack over them to try to bury the stink, but the flight attendant makes me stow my backpack in the overhead bin. Damn it. An older European man with a fanny pack and too tight pants and his stunningly gorgeous Panamanian trophy wife with a pair of fake boobies that her chin rests upon, sit right in front of me. Homeboy and I look at each other in horror and then laugh. Two minutes later I hear something in Spanish and recognize the words 'dead' and 'awful' and they made their way up the aircraft. A man came and sat in the seat later and either it didn't bother him or he was born without a sense of smell. It was another hour and a half before I could change my shoes and when I did I found the nearest trash bin and properly disposed of all the evidence of the most heinous smell I have ever smelled.



Sailing

Eating

Drinking



4 COMMENTS:

walternatives said...

Looks heavenly - secluded, relaxed - everything I'd like for a vacation to be, especially the sailing. Jealous? Yes. But happy that you two get to enjoy it.

Anonymous said...

It looks grand.
I love the new blog look.

Mamacita said...

What an awesome story! Its such a beautiful place. Mabye one time we can meet you there!

Fliss and Mike Adventures said...

That is such a good thing you didn't publicly own up to the smell... ahhh... you gotta love the stories of a vacation...