The Panama Canal

What a weird place is Panama City. There's the business district, packed with office buildings that scream money, money, money. There's the waterfront district with rows and rows of high rise residences and a mind boggling number of ongoing construction projects. There's the casco viejo or old city, a crumbling vestige of the city's colonial past dotted with an occasional outpost of gentrification.

Wherever you are, it's hot and smelly and noisy. (Panamanians drive like lunatics and love to lay on the horn.) Of the storied nightlife, we have seen nothing--we're too old and we're here at the beginning of the week when everyone is too tired from making deals.

And then there is the Panama Canal, the 8th wonder of the world as Bob tells us over and over and over again. The man is in a state of barely contained excitement throughout the day as he relentless grills our guide. Luckily, Alviero is up to the challenge. Okay, okay, it is impressive to see the boats pass through the locks and the detailed (!) history of the canal's construction is amazing but after almost three hours spent at the Miraflores Locks Visitor Center--the observation deck, the movie, the museum, etc., etc.,etc.--I know more than I will ever need or want to know about the Panama Canal. Except why is Panama City such a pit despite all the money that obviously flows through it to who knows where.