Every now and again one is compelled to leave the farm and the mountains to get supplies down hill in the fleshpots of David.  

For a Gringa navigating David is very hard.  David is a sprawling cow town and the second largest city in Panama.  I don't think it is very big, it looks quite small from the air, but on the ground it is complex.  That said, the rewards for being able to find things here are great.  It is much bigger and more prosperous than Boquete.  Almost everything you could ever want, and many things you would never want, are available here somewhere.

There are a number of reasons why it took me 2 months to make the trip.  David is hellish hot and one of the ugliest towns I have ever known.   No land marks that stick up in the sky, not even a church spire, big potholes in the road where you least expect and driving that makes London look tame.   There are landmarks in the middle of the soup,  like the startlingly red David Hotel, but I still have to drive around in circles sweeping the general area to find them.   The best advice I received was to take a tranquilizer a nice bottle of wine and hire a taxi to do the driving for you.     The trouble with this is there is only so much stuff you can fit in a little yellow taxi.  


So off Beatrice and I went, with a very long list and a whole day at our disposal.    We started cleaning out the shelves of cascade gel tablets in El Rey one of the big super markets and the replacement mop sponges in Novey, a sort of household' bed bath and beyond' kind of place.  If you see something you absolutely need, stockpile, you never know when you might see it again.   We had lived without cascade dishwasher tablets for 2 months.  Lets just say, after some trial and error, Tide Ultra works but is probably not very good for the machine. 

We had an excellent lunch at Cuatro.  It was all delicious.   However, for me the most impressive was the macaroni cheese for Beatrice on the children's menu.  It was homemade, beautifully put together and she loved it.  Rare on a children's menu.

Fortified by lunch and a glass of wine or two it was time to find the French bakery.  I had left about 2 hours for this, I knew it would be challenging.   The staff in the restaurant had given me directions, it was about 1/2 a mile away maybe 10 mins.  One hour later I had found the local University, American store, a huge taxi stand and, voila, a French bakery.  Unfortunately, not the French bakery I needed,  a whole sale place that made long French like sticks of bread, probably open all night but by 2.30pm in the afternoon it was shut.  Oh well, not one to be defeated............

After stopping some likely looking women a new set of directions emerged.  Beatrice was becoming sceptical and name calling the kind people giving us directions 'liar liar pants on fire' (hopefully no one understood her speaking English).  30 mins later we found Marapan the bakery I had been searching for for months and got our pastries and Beatrice had a meringue shaped like a catapillar.   Then spent the next 40 mins making sure I could find it again by not making any turns until I got to the Inter-American highway.  Not an efficient strategy but a fool proof one.

Came out on inter-American half way to Pricesmart so decided to go and see what I could find there.    Fairly pleased to find minced chicken meat, agave syrup and the 6 buck 12 yr old rum in a nice box.  Also, stocked up on Barilla pasta.  Until living in Panama I had not realized that pasta varied so much in quality.  Humbling actually, as I had always considered any pasta to be a fairly in-expensive food.  Here, I have learnt that Barilla is the only brand on the shelves that for me is worth cooking sauce for and I am very grateful I can afford it.

Next stop, the wholesale fish market on the way to the airport.   This is relatively very easy to find for a Gringa.  All Gringos know one route in David and that is the way to the airport, anything en route to the airport is a relative breeze.  The fish market is easy to find just about 500 yds on from the Prison which is hard to miss with all the barbed wire.     They have great fish here at terrific prices, I was told about this place by my Spanish teacher.  Good find.  Nice men too, they showed Beatrice a sharks jaw with all 7 layers of teeth, she was impressed and asked how the shark could manage without its teeth...Time to go before she asks in Spanish.

Homeward bound, just needed some fruit.   Mostly some yellow pineapples that are actually ready to eat.   Very tricky most are sold quite green and take fore ever to ripen.  Boquete is full of green pineapples or somewhat yellow ones going brown on the bottom.   As luck would have it spotted a yellow taxi with a boot/trunk stuffed full of beautiful golden pineapples.  We laid chase to the taxi and followed it to the fruit stand he was planning to unload and sell to, and purchased a couple.    

 Home again.  More action than I like in a day.  If we are careful, maybe I can last another couple of months before going foraging again in David. 

I am not sure if they play Cluedo here in Panama, it would be perfect for those of us who do not play bridge on a rainy afternoon.

When we do publish the tropical version, the torch ginger is the perfect weapon growing in most of our gardens.   It weighs about 10lbs and could knock out a grown man easily.   I usually have a bunch of them in  a vase with heliconia at the ready  should I ever need the equivalent of a cricket bat or silver candle stick.

Hiking with cattle and friends this morning, quite an adventure .   Lots of bush wacking to scare any snakes, wellington boots de rigueur........No sightings.     Nice plump cows, a tree fern, couple of vertical several hundred foot drops to rivers on either side of the ridge - Macho Monte to the left and Brege to the right.............good morning.

Today, we hiked the Ruta Sur, or at least a little bit of it.  This is the route to the other side of the Volcano.   The piece we hiked is  in Palmira and is no more than a dirt track and walking paths.  Some of these appear to become rivers in heavy rain.  

Down through a valley of coffee we went.  It was mostly planted with Catuai, over a river and into the forest.

These were some workers accommodations we saw on our way.  Rooms with views.  What more can I say.

The river at the bottom of the valley was gorgeous, could have jumped in the water but restrained myself.

Sundays are special and they are different here in the mountains.   It is the only day that no-body works and that the farm is empty except for the birds, bees and ourselves. 

 All over the town, ladies put on their best frocks, the church bells are ringing and all the shops are closed.   Here on the farm we have our own rituals.    This is the day you can wander around in your dressing gown unseen.   Take your time with your morning coffee up in the tree fort in a hammock.  We also take over on the essential job of watering seedlings in the greenhouse.  

This is a picture of Beatrice watering the baby erythrina trees.  These are leguminous trees that shade our coffee.  They are a nitrogen fixing tree and so good for the soil.  They beautiful trees, silver trunks and  red flowers.

So, here is some eye candy for banana lovers.  These are some of the banana flowers in the garden this afternoon.  Really, they are not all botanically speaking flowers, but I think you would agree, they are lovely.

This week, sick in bed, I worked on my finca bird list.  Starting with the banana birds the ones that come to the bananas.  Our birds usually eat about 300 bananas a week, with a little help from fruit bats at night.

Here in Panama if you are alive; You eat bananas.   Hikers, workers, dogs, horses, squirrels, our rabbit and so the list goes on, all eat bananas.  If in doubt offer a banana.  If you are a fancy sort of person you eat special varieties like the sweet lady finger or the cinnamon flavored apple banana.  If you are a regular person or mammal, any type of sweet banana will do.  If you are a bird or insect you will gobble plantain bananas and the sweetness seems to make no difference.   This entire country is fueled by banana and must be made mostly of banana.   Food for thought.  I move on before I get myself into trouble........

Newcomers are slow to accept this universal truth, after all, it is not the same where we come from.    My personal trainer here in the mountains told me when she first came she tried feeding the birds breadcrumbs, total failure.  I have tried to feed a horse a carrot to no avail.  Nothing here, except humans who shop at Pricemart, will eat an apple.

So, here is my list of birds eating bananas on the finca this week.  I also include other birds that I could see from my bedroom window like the humming birds on the mysore vine, doves and sparrows scratching about in the grass, even a couple of nocturnal fly catchers that hunt bugs attracted to my night lights.

Highlights included a rare white lined tananger and his mate and three bird moms/mums bringing their babies to feast on the banana.  The red-legged honey creeper with her two babies; The buff throated salator with hers and a poor thrush that is raising an imposter cow bird that is already bigger than she is.    The male red legged honey creepers have lost their breeding plumage in the last two weeks.  I wonder if it is as traumatic for these birds as it is for men to go bald and they do it every year.

Yes, there is drama out there on the bananas.  If only we understood what they are saying.

My maid arrived this morning at 8.00am as usual.  She brought with her a Get Well  gift,  a Cherimoya.  Rico!  'BUT you must eat it this morning'.

This is not the first time I have been presented with a cherimoya time bomb as a gift.   My coffee manager has also given me lovely cherimoyas in the past, all that must be eaten right away.   

Cherimoyas used to be a popular tree on coffee plantations and this gave  Boquete a legendary reputation for them.  They taste of heaven, somewhat like custard, pineapples and cream and look a bit like an artichoke.   Any one who is anyone in Boquete seems to be able to obtain them and eat them at will.  But for me, a Gringa and relative newcomer, the cherimoya is almost a myth and when I get one I have a 3 hour window or less in which to consume it.    

They are not sold very often.  When they are in the market, they are usually behind the counter waiting for 'a friend'.       A couple of months ago I sowed all the seed from one of my gifts, so I can grow them for myself.  I do  have a tree, but it is an old one and the fruit is not that large or good.  It seems this is the problem with most of the trees left, there have not been too many new trees  planted in the last ten or so years and not much stock left still producing good fruit.

Well, this morning I advanced my understanding of the cherimoya supply chain and how things work around here.  It turns out this particular cherimoya came from a farm in Palmira Arriba.   The farm is owned by a Gringo called Mxxxxxx.    Mxxxxx does not know, has never tried,  or is not very fond of the fruit, and travels a lot, so it is entirely possible he may never have seen his tree with fruit on it.  

One way or another, his workers have laid claim to the fruit and get to divvy up the tree.    The tree was groaning with fruit about a week ago, too much for their families alone.   One of Mxxxxx workers is friendly with my maid.  When he realized he could not eat all the fruit before it turned, he gave some to his friends.    My maid is married but does not have a family, only so many cherimoya the two of them can eat in a couple of days.  When it becomes apparent that they will not manage to eat them all before they turn, she brings one to me.  By this time the cherimoya only has 3 hours of life expectancy left.  

Well, I ate the cherimoya for breakfast,  it was delicious.   It seems the shorter the life expectancy of your cherimoya the lower down the cherimoya totem pole you are ..........Oh well,  I am content for now, just glad to be on the totem pole at all and dreaming of my new trees.

For the first time in living memory I am not having a coffee this morning.  I have lost my voice and need something stronger, much stronger.

My workers are suggesting an onion with honey drizzled on top to be crunched raw like an apple.  I am thinking of excuses why not to do this...like what use is my voice anyway if I can not be around people for 24hrs.

No. I want some good tasting medicine.  Something that tastes good and will make me feel good right away. I have lived in the USA after all and picked up some instant gratification expectations.   Maybe this is the opportunity I have been waiting for to try out my home made limoncello?

Back in February when the lemons were falling off the trees, I had some  indigenous lemon with thick bumpy skin and pith but not the best flesh or juice.  This lemon is affectionately called the Noriega lemon.  

The other lemons all have their special niches in the kitchen:  The green ones with orange flesh are fragrant almost sweet and wonderful in desserts; The giant ones are very acidic and terrific for cooking, for example, with chicken; The Persians are good all rounders and maybe best for lemonade and the small round limes are made for grown up drinks.  The poor old Noriega lemon, surrounded by all these other super star lemons and limes, seemed redundant.

Then I had an idea.  Even if the flesh was mediocre, they have a lot of skin and a good aromatic zest.   Why not use them to make limoncello? In the end all the lemons from the  tree were zested and covered with vodka, that is a lot of concentrate.

That brings us to today, about five months later, these little jars of limoncello concentrate sitting in the drinks cupboard seem like just the medicine I am looking for.    Wondering how I overlooked them for so long.

So, here goes, drinking my concentrate with freshly squeezed lemon and cane juice in the morning.  Out of this world delicious.  I think I feel better.

Yes, normally I will try to hold out until after dinner..........

Half way to 90 yrs; British roots showing and not only on the top of my head; Mad dogs and Englishmen - only two out on the beach on Saturday, having fun in torrential rain.  Check out the crabs on the video, there were thousands of them all over the beach.  We finished up our 'day out' with with fish and chips; Yes, they have very good fish and chips in Panama.  In fact, I would say excellent,  washed down with the Panama beer. 

This should actually not be surprising.  Frying food is in the Panamanian genetic code, fish are abundant and cooked same day they come out of the sea.  Chips/fries, well, they have been practicing with yucca for a long time and really there is not such a big difference.