The journey was long, our moods were foul, and it was raining. We walked down the main road dodging SUVs and dog shit. Panama is not great at footpaths, or any public infrastructure that does not involve a car. We have arrived in Boquete, a town famous for coffee, birdwatching and retirement. Our motives were somewhat different. We were there to see our amigo, Felipe Rodriguez.
Felipe lived next door to Leisa when we started dating. Felipe was studying for a Masters in International Finance. After graduating, he moved back to his native Chile and worked in Insurance and User Experience (UX) Design. Unfulfilled climbing the greasy corporate ladder, he has since travelled the world and embraced the practice of spiritual mysticism, astrology and permaculture. He is curious, optimistic and always up for a beer or ten. We were very excited to see him again.
We checked into our overpriced room at the Boquete Selina Hostel. In the foyer we noticed a large group of backpackers. Each was glued to their phone, oblivious to their surroundings and seemingly paralysed by a kind of digital lobotomy. I'm sure their instagrams looked immaculate.
The next morning we took a small bus into the surrounding mountains. There had been recent sightings of the Resplendent Quetzals, a rare bird that was sacred for the Aztecs and Mayas. Only thirty minutes into the hike a guide from another group told us there were Quetzals further down the trail and to keep quiet. Creeping up the path slowly, we passed a small group of retirees with giant lenses and dorky hats - we knew we were close. Soon after, we saw two Quetzals asleep in the trees above us. We heard later that serious birth watchers would spend weeks in the jungle for this encounter.
That evening we cooked dinner for Felipe at the hostel he was volunteering in. We were joined by an American (David) and an Irishman (Liam). Sure enough, the booze was flowing and I was making unfounded, broad sweeping analogies about Central American politics. I awoke to an almighty hangover. Switching to rum was my downfall.
At midday, I stumbled up the main road in a zombie state. At a local cantina I ordered the encebollado, a seafood and onion soup. This had got me through many hangovers on the coast in South America. It turns out encebollado in Panama is steak with onions. Not what I expected, but it still did the trick.
The next day we rose early for the Pianista hike. The start of the trek took us through beautiful farmland. Entering the jungle we immediately began to climb into the cloud forest. En route, Leisa spotted another Quetzal. This one was more active, hopping between branches and allowing us to see the long tail feathers that make the Quetzal so sought after by bored retired white men.
At the bottom, we hitched a ride back into town with a local farmer. We got talking about the demand for coffee in the region. Particularly, Geisha coffee. He was quite the gossip and we gathered (from the Spanish we understood) that the man who was responsible for the Geisha coffee plants died, and there was feud of sorts between those trying to stake their claim in its production.
Geisha is the most expensive green bean you can buy in the whole world, and it's only grown in this region. The conditions are just so that this taste and quality hasn't been replicated anywhere else, according to the coffee big wigs out there. We tasted some coffee in Boquete, but not the Geisha. Leisa bought a nice bag of fresh ground coffee from a local finca in one of the supermarkets, definitely a win. She carries her own little single cup travel brewer so when she finds fresh ground local coffee, we can try it ourselves.
Boquete is not a hidden gem, nor a peaceful mountain retreat. The surrounding hikes are fantastic and very affordable compared to the Cloud Forest Hikes in Costa Rica. Above all, seeing the Resplendent Quetzal gave us serious bragging rights in bird watching circles, which I'm sure will pay dividends when I am a bored, retired white guy. We said our goodbyes to Felipe and took a shuttle bus to the Caribbean.