It was Christmas Eve. We rolled into the sleepy beach town around 830pm, giddy and euphoric—a mix of emotions from our days activities and the blanket of stars that had been overhead for the last hour of the road trip. We parked our dear friend Yarita (rented Yaris that had already lovingly earned a nickname) and embarked upon our first mission: finding some vino. Within minutes of walking into a tiny bodega we had picked out a few bottles—a-hem, boxes—and were being chatted up by some locals: apparently there was a Christmas Eve party down the road—likely the only action this town would see tonight. We politely declined and after a delicious and inexpensive meal at the Restaurant next door, set out to find our accommodations for the next 2 days: La Rosa del los Vientos. (http://www.bedandbreakfastpedasi.com/) Post check-in to a pristine little guesthouse complete with hammocks to laze in and view of the beach about a mile up the road; we were now ready to celebrate the quickly approaching holiday.
We grabbed a flashlight and began our walk down the pitch-black road towards the water: all we wanted was to ring in Christmas with the luscious sound of the pacific in our ears. What we got was far better than we could have pictured. We arrived at the deserted beach with a friendly cat that had followed us and quickly earned the rank of bodyguard once we (well I) realized there were small crabs everywhere on the sand. Out of this issue also sprung the cats name: Congrejo, or “Crab” in Spanish. We found a place to relax and went on to drink wine, sing Christmas songs in Spanish and just generally remind ourselves often of how lucky we were to be exactly in that spot.
Morning comes and the three of us yawn and stretch and smile at one another: it is Christmas and the view is INCREDIBLE. After a fresh breakfast made by the owner and some quick phone calls to family back home in the states, we climbed back into Yarita and drove off to the local surf haven, Playa Venao about 30 minutes away. We laughed and joked on the way there, my New York rearing it’s tiny head only once, when a herd of cows decided to take it’s sweet time crossing the “road” in front of us. My companions quickly reprimanded me: after all in Panama we do as they do.
The day stretched before us as we sat staring at an amazing and expansive beach: all while sipping on cold, fresh cocktails and munching on crisp and delicious fried Yuca. Sunbathing and swimming gave way to surf lessons and more cocktails. For much of the day, the beach remained fairly empty and as the sun started to dip in the sky and Christmas day came to an end, we began to wonder: does anyone know about this little slice of paradise?
Back in the small town of Pedasi however, Christmas festivities were just gearing up. After a quick shower we wandered into town, where everyone was preparing for the Christmas “desfile,” or parade. We ran into someone we had met at the beach that day, a gentleman from Panama City who was vacationing, and he invited us for a drink. We happily accepted. As we walked the few streets that constituted the “town” sipping on boxed red wine—that cost us roughly $2.50—and celebrating with the locals, the mood could not have been lighter. The parade was big in the tiny town and families lined the streets to catch the children and adults alike who marched proudly. There were even “floats,” which we managed to get ourselves onto for a picture—right before Melissa hopped in the driver seat of a tractor of course. We laughed and danced into the night and shed some tears as each child in the town was gifted something small to celebrate the holiday. As the night drew to a close and the fireworks along with lanterns lit up the night sky, we managed to fit in a private little dance party. With reggaeton drifting from Yarita’s speakers, we happily danced and laughed as the rest of the town drifted off to sleep. Pedasi, with all of its small pleasures, was indeed a corner of the pint-sized country none of us would soon forget.
