I started taking a survey of how many gringo visitors of Bocas del Toro had been handed the "this is the last taxi" story in Changuinola. I discovered that nearly everyone had. I felt even better when I learned from a couple of irritated tourists that they had paid $15.
The first thing I did the following morning was check out of the hotel. I caught a taxi with a driver who couldn't speak from talking and shouting during the Carnival celebration the previous night and rode out to spend the morning at the beach with Marj and Melissa. I put off finding a new place to stay until I returned that afternoon because I found myself with a sudden fear of being alone and introducing myself to new people. When I finally swallowed the fear and checked in to Hostel Heike on the main street of Bocas, I felt a burst of excitement.
I fell in love with hostel life. Never have I been part of such a diverse, interesting, rebellious, sincere crowd of people gathered in one place. Through no conscious decision of mine, life exploded out of me and fear disappeared completely. I initiated conversations with new people and re-discovered how much I love connection. Every night I went bar-hopping with a different crowd and talked about everything and nothing. In the course of a week I went snorkeling and visited a new beach every day with whomever I happened to meet in the morning; I passed my personal record in alcohol consumption; learned to smoke; danced freely; made friends that will last and fell in and out of love. Never have I felt so present in my own person and so alive.
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