10/1/2010 - Bocas Del Toro, Panama: Gecko Ice Cream

It's nice change when you're traveling to encounter a place you've been before. Such is the case here in Bocas Del Toro. It's a cute little island town, speckled with nearby islands, gorgeous beaches, and snorkeling. Arriving at the island I find myself filled with memories from the last time I was here. So many great stories. Like Bui getting stung by a jelly fish, Allison getting nearly butt raped by a hooker in the ocean, Geoff slapping the shit out of Bui at a bar (the true beginning of slap bet), getting partially molested by a girl and her thrusting pelvis, becoming the sweat monster, and of course the infamous gecko-ice cream incident. All of which make me truly miss all of my friends. As I was taking a water taxi to the beach, I sat in a boat with just BJ, and definitely longed for a boat full of my good buddies again. But such is the life when in you're in a committed travel relationship with another dude. Ha. Gay.

Last night was absurd to say the least. First off, there's fifty cent beers at happy hour. A very ominous start to the evening, since BJ and I arrive at the empty bar precisely when it opens. As I'm there for a bit, I find out about a party where you've got to dress up to get in. Too bad I brought precisely two shirts and my shorts. Only sane white shirts for me. Of course BJ is all psyched up to look and dress like an idiot. So I play along and we find a nice Norwegian girl that lends us dresses for the night.  We find a German friend that we met in Nicaragua, and we are really pleased to find a decent sized group to head to this 'crazy party'. Turns out pretty much the only people there that look like jackasses are me, the group I'm with, and the bartenders. Oh, and there are like a grand total of twelve people there. Fuck it, what else are we going to do? So I make some friends with new Germans. (They're everywhere!) While BJ takes it upon himself to get completely smashed. I continue to have a normal night, a few drinks, a lot of dancing, and some broken conversations over the loud dance music that's playing. I'd say it was a good night for me, except looking like a fucking idiot in a dress.

What happens when you arrive too early at the bar.

Now BJ has a different story I'm sure. I know for sure that he fell down on the dance floor with our Norwegian friend and got kicked out of the bar. So being the super amazing friend I am, I give him a dollar for a water taxi and the keys to the room and help him on the boat. Then I return to dance with my friends. There was this moment that kind of defined the night: as I put BJ in the taxi and it's about to pull away some random bar dude says "you're friend is not going to make it home, you should help him". A split second decision needs to be made, do I help my buddy home and end my night early, or let him be responsible for his own actions and pick him out of the gutter in the morning? Tough choice, but I decide he's a big boy and he'll find a way home. I continue to have a ball until my night comes to a close. I leave with my new friends, and a head back to our hostel. We chat for a while, and I hope that BJ is soundly passed out in the room, but once I get there I realize he's not there, and I'll seriously have to pick him out of the gutter or jail in the morning.  Oh well, I went to sleep and saved my problems for later.

Eventually BJ made it back to the room somehow because he was home in the morning. The next day he looked like death, which serves him right. Now, I'll be the first to admit that I like to drink, but at least I can moderately control my intake of tequila shots.  BJ not so much.  So, after only one night in Bocas, I'm ready to leave. It was fun reliving some old memories, but I'm glad to be back on the road south. I'm giddy to find the end of North America and head into the unknown of the South.