Daisy is sleeping in Panama, and I'm looking for houses in Columbus.

Back to Daisy late March for more blogging.


Till then, have fun :-)

Panama City

Panama City, taken from Old Panama City

Touring the City

Night out in Panama City

More San Blas Photo's

Kuna in his dug out canoe, Daisy in the background

Danni with a Sea Star

Incredibly beautiful beach

Panama Wildlife

Beautiful Toucan

Mommy & Baby

Curious Howler monkey

Jewelry in the Islands

Katherine, with some of her fabulous collection of beautiful Tagua nut handmade jewelry

Shelter Bay Marina

So we're back in the marina.  We had a great couple of days sailing to get back here, now we have 2 full days of work ahead of us preparing the boat for sleep, before heading home for 3 weeks.
I will miss this place, I'm sitting up on deck now writing this and listening to the howling monkeys, what a noise they make, when Frieda and I first heard them we thought it was some kind of large gorilla, but no, just small hairy beasts with exceptionally loud voices.
Obviously I won't have much to write about for the next 3 weeks, but I will post photographs on the blogs I wrote over the last month.  I have some fantastic shots. The signal was too weak to post them earlier, back in the States it shouldn't be a problem.
The weather here this morning in the marina (Colon) is very gray, heavy cloud and some rain, with a promise of more, I hope it clears up I have washing to dry and all the stainless to clean before tomorrow night.

Thank you for following my blog, look for me again in March :o)

Wives of the Sailors

As the wives of sailors, we are both blessed and cursed at the same time.  We are blessed with adventure, freedom, location and unlimited travel.  We meet interesting people from many different cultures and countries, making friends is always easy for us. We get to experience and explore countries for months at a time, really getting to know the land and the people and learning about their different cultures.  We climb volcano’s, swim with sharks, rays and turtles, sail with dolphins and whales, and hike through screeching  jungles chasing monkeys, to name just a few of our everyday pastimes.

We go where we want, when we want, for as long as we want, dependent only upon the weather.  We don’t wear watches, or worry about time. Our days are measured in daylight, and last from sun up, till sunset.  We breathe clean unpolluted air, and eat fish fresh from the ocean.

We are a perpetually wind swept, sun kissed lot, in our colorful sarongs and bare feet; shoes are redundant on a sailboat. We spend most of our time in Islands that non-yachties may only get to visit for a few days a year, if they’re lucky, and even then it’s usually only the more commercial islands. 

We stock up our freezers, fridges, coolers, fruit and vegetable hammocks, and head out to sea, where we spend our time swimming, snorkeling, reading or just lazing around in hammocks strung from the ships mast or between two palms on the beach, dozing in the sun, it’s a truly, blissfully easy life. 

Or is it?

Me with provisions for a few weeks in the San Blas

Now for the cursed part of the story; the time in between! Not spent exploring the islands, or lazing around in hammocks on deserted beaches. The time spent in  boatyards and marina’s, with no breeze, and sometimes no power, so no air conditioning.  Working in dusty, unbearably hot conditions, maintaining, repairing, replacing, sanding and varnishing, dealing with burning hot decks that are painful to walk upon.  Waiting for those urgently needed parts from the mainland that are held up for weeks sometimes months at a time by the customs, just because they can; then dealing with customs, knowing that you are completely at their mercy, and OH don’t they love it. 

OH let’s not forget fending off mosquitoes by the thousand, spraying ourselves liberally with dangerous chemicals to stop them biting, which rarely works, and does God only knows what sort of damage to our bodies, followed by hours, days, sometimes weeks of itching and scratching, and then the inability to sleep because of the bites and the heat.  The perpetually wind swept hair, which sounds so romantic, but in reality you can’t get a broom through it, let alone a brush, the sun kissed faces, that are actually covered in skin blemishes from all the sun damage, and under serious threat of developing skin cancer, or just having leather like skin, and looking  20 years older than you actually are. 

We’re almost always barefoot, so when we do try and wear shoes again we discover to our horror that our feet have spread so wide we now look like duck’s, and shoes are not even made in the width we now need to fit, but don’t panic, at least we still fit into, and look great in flippers!

The hours and hours and hours  of time spent at sea, for some it’s magical, for me not so much, unless there are dolphins or whales to watch, I am so dreadfully bored all I can do is sleep, then I find myself desperately scouring the horizon for the next destination, and counting the minutes until we can drop anchor.

A  life on the ocean waves can be wonderful, thrilling, magical, incredible even, but there is always another side to everything, and boat life is no different. 

However,  If you were to ask me if I would I do it again?  I would  probably say Yes, with only a moment’s hesitation, because even though I hate sailing, and I’m scared to death each time we hit bad weather, there is no way would I miss the unbelievable experiences I’ve been blessed with on this journey.

Thank goodness I’m the wife of a sailor (I think)!

The Changing Kuna

The San Blas islands are an amazing cruising ground of extraordinary beauty, a chain of 369 beautiful palm fringed, sun bleached, coral islands in the turquoise sea that runs along Panama’s Caribbean coast for 140 miles.  Only a few islands are inhabited, they are populated exclusively by the Kuna Indians, who have best preserved their traditions and culture out of all the tribes in the America’s, that is, at least until recently.  

Kuna people are small in stature with thin limbs and disproportionately large heads.  They are a shy, gentle people, well known for their honesty.  They are also very clean, their huts and areas around the huts are kept swept and tidy. They collect fallen palm fronds, and trash from the beaches and burn it along with the coconut husks, they sweep the sand and keep their islands neat.  I’ve noticed that the only islands with trash (mostly from ships and yachts) on the beaches are the ones the Kuna’s do not live on.  Islands with huts are always clean.

Sadly the invasion of us yachties is changing their lives, and not for the better.  Hundreds and hundreds of us come here each year on our yachts, introducing our civilization and ways of life to these people, it’s bound to make a difference, and the changes are becoming very noticeable.

The most Eastern of the San Blas Islands have best preserved the traditional Kuna way of life; each village has 3 chiefs, no electricity, no alcohol and the women all dress in the traditional molas. 

Kuna lady outside her hut, working on a mola

The further West you go, the more changes you will see.  As far West as the Lemmon Cays you will see television Ariel’s protruding from bamboo huts.  Some  huts are now being built on stilts with wooden flooring, and decks around the outside. The Kunas sell wine and beer from their dug out canoes.  If you take a photograph of anyone they want $1 per photo.  Many of the Islands have Kunas demanding money just for setting foot on the Island.

On Rio Diablo the traditional ways of the Kuna have all but been forgotten.  Many of the people live in concrete houses, which are built between the bamboo huts; the Chiefs here have little to no authority and many of the women dress in western fashion, having abandoned the traditional molas.

Modern Kuna house on Rio Diablo

 I think it’s a dreadful shame, it’s all changing so fast, and I can’t help but wonder how long it will be before modern development is allowed on the Islands, with boutique hotels, shops and modern housing.

The San Blas is one of the most beautiful and unspoilt parts of the world, and I count myself very fortunate to have seen it while at least some of the old traditions are still in practice.

Fire!

Friday 11^th February

When we first visited Green Island (Kanlildup, in the Eastern Naguargandup Cays) with Danni about a month ago, the island was at that time uninhabited.  We came back with Frieda last week and there was a little Kuna hut with a large family living in it, around 15 people, including the children.  Green Island has narrow but beautiful beaches and tall coconut palms, it’s possible to walk the entire perimeter in about 20 minutes.  There are a million sea stars here, and of course the crocodile.

There’s always smoke coming from the Kuna huts; in the established villages each family has 2 huts, one for cooking and one for sleeping, on the more remote islands outside the villages the family’s often have only one hut, which is used for both sleeping and cooking.  

To make the cooking fire’s the Kunas lay 4 long pieces of wood in the shape of an X, and light a fire in the center over which they suspend a cooking pot, the pieces of wood are gradually pushed towards the center under the pot as they burn, keeping the fire burning throughout the day.

Having dropped Frieda off at the airport this morning, we came back to Green Island for the night.  I was sitting in the salon reading when I noticed a large cloud of smoke coming from the island, I looked out towards the Kuna hut and saw flames and smoke billowing out of it; the hut was burning. 

The entire family were gathered on the beach loading the children and their few possessions into a large canoe.  There was no panic, they were all very quiet as they climbed one by one into the canoe, and headed out to sea as the sun was setting, it would be totally dark within the hour. 

Bob said he has noticed a few large burnt areas on the islands, so it could be that when a family moves on, they burn their hut to leave nothing behind, perhaps this is their normal practice.  It just seemed very strange to me that they would choose to do it as it’s getting dark, and head out to sea with a boat load of children. 

This way of life does seem very environmentally friendly though if you think about it, to leave a place exactly as you found it.  In time the burnt area would grow again exactly as it was before, with no evidence of human intrusion. 

When I think of all the deserted, abandoned buildings, areas of concrete and trash that people leave behind in our so called civilized society.  Wouldn’t it be better if we did the same as the Kunas, and left things as we found them, allowing nature to re-claim what we had taken from it?

Frieda's Last Day

Thursday 10^th February

We took the dinghy across to one of the little islands, with our cameras and our snorkeling gear on board.  Once again while walking around the island we came across bags and bags of white powder washed up on the shore, probably cocaine again, but we ignored them leaving them exactly where they lay, with luck they will get washed out to sea and disappear.  Walking on the beach I was suddenly startled by a blue-clawed crab buried in the sand when I accidently stepped on it. The crab snapped aggressively at my foot cutting the skin with its sharp claws, before dashing back out to sea, leaving me limping and whimpering on the shore.

As we continued our walk around the island, with me paying careful attention to where I was stepping, we spotted several humming birds, and a pair of the islands eagles.  The little island was so narrow you could see and hear the waves on both sides at the same time

We snorkeled for a while off the reef before returning to the boat for lunch.  Frieda found a beautiful conch shell to take home. It weighed about 8 pounds, I hope she can fit it into her luggage.

During our sail across to Rio Diablo later that afternoon, we were joined by a small pod of dolphins, they swam alongside, and at the bow of the boat, for about 10 minutes, zig-zagging in front of us.  It was a fitting end to a wonderful vacation, a special escort to the airport by the dolphins just for Frieda.

3 Bottlenose Dolphins

Our Italian friend Ariel was in the bay when we arrived at Rio Diablo, and we invited him to join us for dinner that night. After dinner Ariel went back to his boat and we all had an early night, Frieda leaves at 6am tomorrow morning.  But it’s only a 3 minute dinghy ride to the airport.

The visit has been truly wonderful and I am really going to miss her.

Bon Voyage Frieda, safe travels, see you again soon xxx

Sea Stars & Other Stuff!

Tuesday 8^th February

This morning there was no wind, the air was so still, and the water in the bay was motionless, it looked as though a sheet of glass had been laid across it, even though we were anchored in 30 feet of water, you could still see the sea bed.

After breakfast Katherine came across with her jewelry, and both Frieda and I bought a couple of necklaces.  The Tagua nuts that Katherine uses to make the jewelry are abundant on these islands, and Frieda and I thought it would be fun to find some and see what we could do with them.  Of course we have no idea how to go about making the jewelry, but the challenge of attempting it had peaked our interest.

Late morning we donned our swim gear and took the dinghy for an hour-long exploration of the reef and the beach.  The bright red, orange and yellow Sea Stars that are easily visible in the crystal clear water, litter the sea bed, they vary in size from just a couple of inches across to the size of large dinner plates. 

Sea Star

There were many large rays swimming in groups, their slow moving dark shadows just under the water surface made them easy to spot.  We came across a Spotted Eagle Ray resting on the grassy sea bed, the water was only a couple of feet deep so he was very easy to spot, but unfortunately so were we and he didn’t hang around, Frieda managed to get a photograph of him before he sped off.

Spotted Eagle Ray

Eventually we anchored the dinghy just off the beach and set off on foot around the island.  Frieda and I had brought a plastic shopping bag with us for the purpose of collecting Tagua nuts.  We managed to quickly fill the bag with them, much to Bob’s chagrin.  He attempted to persuade us to leave them on the beach, but we were both quite determined.  I had a vision in mind of my new jewelry store selling all my new and fabulous creations (as you probably know by now, I have a very vivid imagination).

We were on Green Island, where we had seen the Crocodile several times, but Katherine told us that she swims here every day and the croc is nothing to worry about, he’s apparently more frightened of us than we are of him (hmmmm let me think about that!) Apparently children and dogs are at risk, but we are not!

Anyway it was bloody hot, and I wanted to swim back to the boat, as the water was so clear we would easily be able to spot him if he was anywhere near, which he wasn’t, so Bob begrudgingly allowed me to swim back, with him and Frieda alongside in the dinghy ready to pull me from the water should they happen to spot him.

Needless to say, I swam back without incident, the only other life I saw in the water around me were the Needlenose fish, and the sea stars below on the sea bed, and the swim was cooling and wonderful.

Internet Link

I'm so excited that we have been able to get Internet here in the San Blas, but the signal is so very slow it takes hours to do anything, consequently I'm not posting any photographs with my blogs, I will wait until we return to Shelter Bay in a week and have a stronger signal.
Thank you again so much for reading and following my nonsense here in the islands.
:o)

Beware of The Wealthy Kuna's!

Sunday 6^th February

While we were exploring one of the islands today, Frieda stumbled across some plastic bags that had washed up on the beach; they were filled with a white powder.  At first she thought it was sugar or flour, and although curious, wisely decided not to touch them, and moved on leaving them where they lay. 

So much washes up on the beaches here, odd shoes mainly, there are shoes everywhere, then bottles and other various debris. 

However, we were looking for Tagua nuts, shells and interesting pieces of driftwood, not unidentified stuff in plastic bags.

Later that day while chatting to a local boater, who has lived in the San Blas for over a decade, Frieda mentioned the bags of white powder that she had seen.  “OH yes, that’s cocaine!” he said casually, then enthusiastically went on to tell us; apparently the drug runners from Colombia travel up and down the coast on the other side of the reef, an area which is frequently patrolled by the Colombian coastguard, who are making every attempt to curtail the distribution of drugs in these waters.  

When the drug runners see the coastguard they dump all their bags of cocaine over the side, so as not to be caught with it on board.  The bags are then washed up on the beaches of the various islands here.  Our boater friend went on to tell us that the Kuna sometimes find the bags and sell them; he said if you ever see a wealthy Kuna you know where he got his money!

I don’t know how much of this is true, and I hope I never find out.

More of the Turquoise Thong!

So here we are once again, bobbing around back in the bay behind the boat with the turquoise thong clad Frenchman.  I’m guessing he lives here, as the boat is still in the same place it was when we were here a month ago. Not much appears to change off these islands, there are a few new boats in the bay, the Kuna have built a hut on the end of the island, and as we look around the 15 foot crocodile emerges like a ghost from the depth’s, and floats silently just off the end of the island with only it’s beady eyes above the surface of the water, and they are glued to the turquoise thong clad Frenchman’s boat!

I was woken this morning by the scent of the smoke wafting over from the Kuna hut on the island, at first I thought the boat was on fire, it didn’t half make me get out of bed fast..   It was still dark as I ventured up on deck with my trusty Mac tucked under my arm.  Crouched under the dodger with only my fabulous keyboard light (I do love Mac’s) to work by, I sit quietly contemplating my next blog.  I’m never stuck for ideas there are always so many things to write about out here, the decision on what subject to write about is usually made depending upon my mood.

I watch the rising sun creep slowly over the horizon in all it’s brilliant crimson glory, planks of red and gold light pierce through the clouds throwing a path of gold bright enough to burn your retinas across the dark water in the bay. 

How I love the early morning, it’s absolutely my favorite time of day.  I love watching the pelican’s gliding effortlessly over the surface of the water, with just the very tips of their wings barely brushing the water’s surface.  I love the gentle cool breeze before the day’s heat takes over, and the peace and tranquility as all the boats bob gently in the barely moving water. Talking of moving water, it’s so quiet here you could almost hear a pin drop, so it was quite disturbing when the sound of water splashing caused me to turn around and see the Frenchman stood on the side of his boat, minus turquoise thong, taking a pee.

No More BBQ Island!

Saturday 5^th February

We actually had a really pleasant sail from the Lemon Cays back to my favorite anchorage in the San Blas, nicknamed “the swimming pool” at Eastern Holandes Cays.  At times Frieda looked a little concerned as we heeled over and Daisy dipped her starboard toe rail well under the water, but she quickly got used to it even managing to relax at the back of the boat in the “directors chair.”

I love this anchorage because of it’s incredible beauty, peace and tranquility, and fabulous water, there are no motor boats, no sea doo’s flying around, or people water skiing, just us yachties and the odd Kuna boat selling fish and vegetables.  There are very few Kuna huts here; most of the little islands are deserted.

There is one island called BBQ Island, which is well known as a great spot to meet other yachties, and have a beach barbeque.  A rough shelter had been constructed for the barbeque from bamboo supports, and roofed with palm fronds, there’s also a table made from the front part of a yacht that had tried to get into the bay at night, and ended up on the reef. 

When we were here a few weeks ago with Daniela we visited the island, but didn’t stop to barbeque.  Yesterday while in the Lemon Cays, we met up with Ariel, one of our Italian friend’s, and suggested that as he and his guests were also sailing to the swimming pool, the next day, we should get together on the island that night and have a barbeque.  We sailed across from the Lemon Cays together, and Ariel anchored behind us in the bay.

When Bob, Frieda and I took the dinghy across to BBQ island we discovered that a family of Kuna’s had moved in, they had converted the barbeque shelter into a bamboo walled hut and claimed the island as their own.  While we were walking around the island one of the Kuna men approached us and told us the island was private, he even demanded $2 from Ariel.  Yesterday while we were in the Lemon Cays we were approached by a Kuna on one of the islands, and told if we wanted to visit we had to pay $1 each, I know this isn’t much, but it shows how the Kuna are becoming more commercial, their traditional way of life is changing and it’s because of us, all the yachties, introducing our form of civilization to them.  In the Lemon Cays there was an island with a bar and a satellite dish offering Internet connection.  There was volleyball net and the Kuna people and children were playing volleyball with some of the visitors.  One of the Kuna boats approached us while we were in the bay and asked if we could charge his television for him.  He had a pc, but thought it was a television.  A woman selling molas, from her dug out canoe was showing us her selection of beautifully hand made molas, most of them had either turtles, birds or fish, but then she showed us one with a helicopter!

Anyway, back to BBQ island, a note to those of you that plan to have a barbeque there in the future, you are no longer allowed, the island has been claimed back by the Kuna’s, at least until they move on again. 

I couldn’t help visions of Eddie Izard with his flag.  Apologizes to those of you unfamiliar with Eddie Izard, a quite brilliant comedian, with a very funny sketch about a flag!  Go watch…

NO Service!

Our opinion (that is, Frieda’s and mine) of the 4 star Sheraton Hotel and Conference Center in Panama City, is not a good one.

While the facilities were nice, the rooms clean, and the beds quite comfortable, we didn't find the staff at all friendly, getting blood from a stone would have been easier than a smile from some of the staff there.  

Our breakfast experience was a good example.  There was a choice again of an all you can eat buffet, or ordering from the menu.  The buffet was $18 per person, but it looked reasonable so we again opted to do the buffet, at least it would be quick, as we were keen to start our day.  Frieda asked for some water and it was another $1.50!

I choose a cooked breakfast, which was a mistake, the food was barely luke warm, and most of it over cooked. We were served only one cup of coffee, and a couple of times while we were eating the waitress came over to stand and stare at our plates, it felt as if we had taken something we shouldn’t.  A couple of times she asked for our room number, while we were in the middle of our meal, I was annoyed by her rudeness, then as we were leaving, having already signed the bill, she followed us out of the restaurant still asking whether we had already checked out, I had already told her several times we had, but that the hotel had my credit card so it wasn’t a problem, she wouldn’t let it go and kept asking me if I had checked out, so I just walked away assuming she was either simple or stupid, she was really beginning to get on my nerves.  As we walked out of the restaurant she followed shouting at us.  I ignored her and took the elevator up to the reception desk to complain, where I was met with a sarcastic smile and “I’m sorry you are not happy.”  It’s seemed very obvious to me that the staff here are not interested in their customers. I would not return to this hotel or recommend it to anyone.

Mushrooms and Midnight Letters

Poor Frieda didn’t sleep at all last night, whereas I slept like a baby.  In the middle of the night the bill for the room was slipped under the door, this is quite normal in American hotels, but apparently not something that’s done in Europe, consequently it unnerved Frieda, she thought it was a letter, maybe something was wrong.  Not wanting to wake me she tiptoed stealthily across the room in the dark to pick up the letter then came back to find her glasses so she could read it. The room was pitch black and despite much fumbling around in the dark she was unable to find her glasses, so she lay awake all night worrying about what was in the letter.  In the morning when I was getting out of bed Frieda yelled across to me “quickly put on your shoes, the mushrooms.” I was very confused, and looked across to see if she was kidding, no she wasn’t, her face was deadly serious. “What mushrooms?” I enquired,  “in the carpet, hotel carpets are never clean they have mushrooms”.  I had to laugh, “You mean fungus,” I giggled, quickly grabbing my shoes, not wanting to risk stepping on the mushrooms. 

“Can you imagine, we had a letter in the night!” Frieda said with wide-eyed astonishment, now I was confused again, she continued “someone pushed a letter under the door in the middle of the night, something must be wrong.”  The look of genuine concern on her face stopped me from laughing, “that’s the bill,” I said, “don’t they put the bill under the door in the night in Europe?” “NO” Frieda replied, “why would they do that? I thought something was wrong, who would put a letter under the door in the middle of the night?”  I could see how she would have been worried, and I felt guilty for laughing at her. What with the mushrooms in the carpet, and people pushing letters saying God only knows what under the door in the middle of the night, poor Frieda no wonder she couldn’t sleep.

Away for a few days

Sailing the San Blas for the next 10 days, back soon :-)

Forty dollars in forty seconds

Having exhausted our credit cards, and depleted our cash reserves shopping in Panama City, we headed back to the hotel.

We were staying at the Sheraton Hotel and Conference Center in downtown Panama. Our room was on the 7^th floor with a beautiful view looking out over the Pacific ocean.  The room was large, clean and luxurious, with 2 very comfortable queen size beds.  Once we had unpacked showered and dressed we headed down to the restaurant for dinner.  There was a choice of a la carte, or buffet, which looked delicious, and it was only $20 per head so we opted for that.  The food was good, but not great, but then I’m particularly fussy when I eat out.   After dinner we wandered around the hotel, looking at the shops and spa facilities, they were nice, but as is usual in 4 star hotels, rather overpriced.  We both tried on a couple of beautiful shawls, but they were way more than either of us wanted to spend, and we joked about winning the money to buy them.

There was a casino attached to the hotel so just for a laugh we decided that we would risk $20 each and try our luck at the black jack table.  Maybe we would get lucky and win enough to buy our shawls.

I have only gambled a couple of times in my life, I’m too nervous to lose, Bob works too hard for his money for me to throw it away, so it’s a past time I usually avoid. 

The first time I gambled was with my friend Alan in Wisconsin, we both bet $20 and played for over an hour, walking away with $262.  This however was not to be the case today.  Frieda had never played Black Jack before so I said, “watch me and I will show you how its done”, what I should have said was “let me show you how to throw away $20 in 20 seconds” because that is exactly what happened.  I didn’t have time to think, let alone enjoy the game; the dealer was so fast my 4 goes at $5 a hand just disappeared in seconds.  There was no fun, it was just throwing money away.  However, Frieda said she would like to have a go, so we chose another table, as Frieda was handing over her $20 bill, another gambler arrived at the table and casually threw down $1,000.  “I have never played this before” Frieda told him, “have you any advice?”

“I will help you,” he said;  which he didn’t.

Well, Frieda did exactly the same as me, and lost her $20 in 20 seconds, but as we were the only people at the table with the $1000 gambler, we stayed to watch him.  It was sickening; he bet $100 or $200 each hand and won more hands than he lost, walking away after only a few minutes at the table with over $2000…

Sex on the Bus

We took the taxi from the marina to the bus terminal in Colon ($20), where the busses run to Panama City every 20 minutes ($2.50).  The bus was almost full, but luckily we managed to find seats together.  At the first stop more people got on and it was standing room only, one of the passengers was an old lady with a little girl, I gave her my seat and I stood in the isle.

There was a television on the bus playing a movie, I hadn’t paid much attention to it when I got on,  I was much more interested in the scenery outside.  Colon seems very poor, almost all of the buildings are dilapidated, garbage litters the streets, and the police and soldiers continue to run around waving their automatic weapons like toys.  This isn’t somewhere I would choose to walk around after dark.  

As the bus headed out into the countryside, which unlike the town was beautiful, I was paying attention to the scenery, looking for monkeys, they are so easy to spot here, I saw 3 on the way to the bus terminal.

Unfortunately the roads here are not great, there are deep potholes everywhere, and each time the bus hit one I lost my balance, and a couple of times almost landed in a passengers lap.

The noise from the movie that was playing was distracting, it was very violent and bloody, lots of gunshots and swearing, I was surprised that such a movie would be shown on a bus with children.

Each checkpoint the bus stopped at there were at least 2 soldiers armed with automatic weapons, at one checkpoint one of the soldiers got on the bus to look at the passengers as if he was looking for someone, I almost felt as though I was taking part in a movie. 

At one stop enough people got off to free up some seats and I was finally able to sit down.  From my seat I had clear view to the television, which had now moved from the violence in the streets to the bedroom, where a very graphic sex scene was taking place.  Who would have thought, sex on the bus!