Easter Saturday in Bocas del Toro.

The holiday hoards hit the town around 8 am. One minute I was sitting quietly eating my breakfast fruit loops (I have a mild addiction to the colourings and preservatives, I love this American cereal) on my balcony, staring down on the deserted town, and then people began to steam down the street.

This is one of Panama's most popular vacation spots, buses from Panama City were booked out months ago and there really isn't a room free in the town. As the crowds headed for the water taxis, I headed out of the town the other way, hiring my trusty bike from 'rasta', aka Rastafarian bikes, as before.

I have now mastered the art of cycling backwards to stop as brakes are not an option. I should have tackled it in Costa Rica, rather than postponing the inevitable. It was more a mind 'thing' than physical: the act is easy, remembering to do it was the hard part. I m continually fascinated by the brains ability to adapt so rapidly when necessary, transforming the seemingly impossible into simply natural.
Cycling around the cove and around the headland to the surfer’s beach of Playa Bluff was, despite my protesting muscles, the best way to avoid the visiting deluge who were mainly aiming for the family friendly rolling sands of Bastimento island.

The surfers were out in force, awe inspiring to watch given the towering exceptionally high spring waves, otherwise it was just me and a handful of fellow bikers pedalling along the stony track by the coastline, but those like minded souls included my English cinema acquaintance from Brighton and the American couple I'd walked to red frog beach with on Thursday so, by chance, I had enjoyable company for the ride.

Along the way I stopped in at the Centre for Tropical Island Biodiversity Studies for an educative hour on the fascinating flora, fauna and wildlife of these islands. Much of it is marine related, I need to dive or snorkel to appreciate it but as I don't dive and I'm not a natural swimmer I admired the superb photos on show instead.

Stilt houses

There are gorgeous iridescent butterflies around and myriad rainbow coloured birds, still plenty to see, although I miss the monkeys. I slept to the sound of howler monkey cries for weeks and find it weird not to hear them now. And I miss 'my' sloth and her baby from Cahuita, keeping guard over my cabin. Bocas town is fun though, I like the buzz, I am energised by its fun atmosphere. It reminds me of a central America version of Lewes, the coffee bars in converted camper vans, the holistic centres, the organic delicatessen, the artists studios, I feel relaxed and ' at home' here.

Coffee bar..my favourite one

Bocas town brewery menu

This evening, another first. I sat cross-legged on the airport landing strip, 700 metres from my hotel in the centre of town, to watch the local football match.

The airfield doubles as a sports ground. When the 6 pm flight approached the impromptu bleachers were lifted to the side until it passed (very close) over our heads, and then, seats restored, the game carried on. Luckily there are only two flights a day. This trip has produced some very bizarre experiences.