Kuna Yala: Niadup

After the very brief tour of Panama City with Elke and Thomas, the next thing to do is to go to Kuna Yala (formerly named San Blas by some Christian invaders).

Welcome to Devil's Island. I really wonder where that name came from.

To do so got a lot easier in the last couple of years. We've heard stories that the trip was possible only with small one-engine planes, or with a very well equiped offroad vehicle in dry season.. and that used to be a 6-hour-drive, with a bit of luck.

Nowadays it's about 3 hours. Still, we are supposed to be in front of the hostel at 5 o'clock in the morning. After loading our luggage onto the car, we set off.

Too much luggage, so onto the roof it goes.

One short break at a shiny new supermarket to buy drinkin water and rum (the two things that are supposedly in high demand at the island), and then we leave the Interamericana soon. And then the track begins to be interesting. The road is good, but it weaves back and forth between hills and creeks and valleys, and the inclinations up and down are.. what, maybe around 40%?

Routine for our driver, so while he roars up the steep climbs or hurls down again into a depression in the jungle, he still has time to point out Toocans and other wildlife at the roadside.

View from our boat..

At the "port", controlled chaos awaits us. About ten 4x4 vehicles are unloading a stream of visitors, while a small fleet of lanchas is busy carring them off to their desired islands. In between, people shout, to make things a little bit better.

After an astonishing short while, we are also loaded into one of the "speedos", and our adolescent captain propells the boat with a small 40 hp outboard motor expertly down the small river. 

As soon as we reach the sea, his grin widens while he lowers the second outboard motor (80 hp) into the water. He revs them both up to full power, and we whip over the surface towards Devil's Island.

.. and finally we arrive at "our" island.

I have no clue who came up with that name, because I really, really can't detect anything devilish about this little islet.

We are warmly welcomed, shown into our private little hut (basic model, with palm leaf roof and sand floor.. same as everyone gets around here, and they are delightful!), and then we are free to do whatever we like.

Elke, Thomas, and the Caribbean.

Which isn't a lot, really. First, we are busy with standing around and gaping. If you ever had this dream about paradise on a tiny little tropical island: It's here. It's on Kuna Yala. White sand beaches, palm trees, colourful hammocks, and the Caribbean sea surrounding it all in innumerable shades of blue.

Sea, sun, sand, and hammocks.

The Kuna family that is running this island's business also seems to be happy enough. On the first day that we stay there, they are kept incredibly busy with a Swiss wedding party, but things get a bit slower on the second and third day. The ladies running the restaurant and the bar frequently find the time to sit down and chat, and every so often break out into a giggle or roaring laugh. (No clue what they are joking about, only a few of the Kuna here speak Spanish.) The men loaf around in the shadows, and are happy to chat with any of the Tourists. Some of the boys practice juggling (with balls, clubs, and machetes!) as soon as the sun isn't so hot any more.

It's a really nice atmosphere.

Also, one slackline.

Ah, and then the snorkelling! If you are already jealous if you have read this far, you will surely be happy to read that we still don't have an underwater camera. So we will not rub it in with a dozen of breathtaking shots of all the colourful reef fish, the giant stingrays, the little crabs, the coral and the sponges and everything else.

And it's all just a few meters off the shore, so whenever we feel that it's getting a little bit off, we just wade into the water, flop down, and dive into the underwater Caribbean world.

A short swim away, near the shore of the neighbouring Dog Island (again, no indication why it has this name..), the is the coral-encrusted wreck of a small freighter. Honestly, I've never seen such a dense population of fish and underwater critters.

To even up the Karma a little bit, we got horribly sunburnt. Every single one of us.

Ooh yes, swinging in the hammock gets a bit tiring, so I presume a little swim is in order.

Every day we spend three or more hours in the water, and honestly, we are quite exhaused every evening.

After-dinner-rum-party at the beach.

After three days that just fly by, it's time to pack our things again (plus a little bit of inevitable sand). My backpack is a lot lighter, because I decided to give my slackline to the two acobatic juggling circus kids, who are just delighted about the present. I'm sure I'll survive the last two month without one, plus I have a little more space to bring back some souvenirs to Europe.

Finally, we climb into the little boat again, and zoom back towards to port. Good-bye, little devil paradise island!