Bocas del Toro – Day 5: Filthy Friday and Final Thoughts
BOCAS DEL TORO
Day 5: Filthy Friday & Final Thoughts
February 10, 2023
With that, I only had one adventure left in Bocas. Every Friday, the islands welcome hundreds of tourists who gather for the weekly Filthy Friday party – an infamous island party crawl said to be the best party in all of Panama.
Whilst I don’t usually party while travelling, a rule I constantly broke when I was going around with Amelia, I decided to make yet another exception. During my time in Bocas, I’d tried to be as solitary as Polo himself, which meant I’d be heading into this completely solo. While I normally have no qualms with Robyn’s philosophy of dancing on my own, I gotta admit this wasn’t the ideal setting to do that. It made me miss Amelia, the stuff we’d do, and the ridiculous parties we’d gone to on a whole other level.
Dancing Solo
Luckily, Juan, an Argentinian guy I’d met at my hostel, who’d previously treated me to a detailed account of his five-day constipation saga, was also going. That gave me the option of company if I wanted it. Still, at least for the time being, the plan was simple – enjoy the music and have fun on my own.
We kicked things off at a hostel in Bocas del Toro. I got a temporary anchor tattoo slapped onto my bicep, grabbed a couple of beers, and just like that, I was ready to party. It didn’t take long before I was comfortably tipsy and genuinely enjoying myself. The music was solid and the crowd surprisingly fun.
A run-down boat, which still strikes me as mildly irresponsible given the level of inebriation involved, ferried us to an open-air club on Isla Solarte, a mangrove-covered island. This is where we spent most of the night, which, more often than not, involved waiting in long queues for drinks. I drank and danced without a care in the world – sometimes alone, sometimes with Juan and a group of Chilean girls we’d met there. And whenever things got a bit too much, I’d jump straight into the sea to clear my head.
Thinking Hard
At one point, I found myself lying on a hammock, half-submerged in the water, tipsy and completely chilled out. I think that might’ve been a first. Floating there, I ended up in the sea once again and, once again, contemplating my life.
At Playa Cocles in Costa Rica I’d realised that I am free to do whatever the hell I want to do. At Polo Beach a few days before, I’d realised that freedom comes at a cost, one I wasn’t sure I was willing to pay. Here, I came to a different conclusion – maybe freedom is overrated. Mostly cause, looking back, practising medicine is when I felt happiest. Sure, I love travelling. This trip had been incredible almost every single day, something I can’t quite say about life back home, where, let’s be honest, plenty of days sucked.
That said, medicine fulfilled me in a way nothing else ever had. Nailing a difficult diagnosis. Coming up with a solid management plan. Seeing patients improve. Hearing a simple thank you from them or their families. Assisting in surgery. All of that could happen in a single day. Every day promised meaning, purpose, and challenge. It might not be the most rewarding job given the hours and effort we put into it, but for me, nothing else comes close. Not even travelling.
So yeah, I guess I’m that weird guy who evaluates his entire life trajectory at a party instead of fully surrendering to the music and dancing. For the record though, I did both. Still, by the time we reached our third stop, a lounge bar on Isla Carenero, I was ready to call it a night. I lasted until sunset, then made my way back to my hostel on Isla Colón and finally hit the hay.