The beach prepares for the weekend when many urban refugees from Panama invade. We find the Panamanian Baywatch-issue especially nice. An army of apparently cloned rescue swimmers with nearly similar physique and fitness level in diverse chocolate tones is getting ready. Only the Pamela-Anderson-substitutes miss bust size. We escape into the opposite direction, hoping the city is empty.
When handing over the Panama Canal to the Panamanians most Americans went back to their home country. So did Wallace whom weve met long time ago in Alaska and visited a year ago in Washington State. Others stayed since they spent their entire life or were even born here. Like Lew and Sue, two of Wallaces many friends that we shall meet in Panama. They live in a house in the suburbs with enough space to park Arminius, so we make ourselves comfortable.