As soon as I set foot in Panama, I felt that this trip was going to be… different. You know, that kind of place where you don’t fully understand everything yet, but where something already hooks you. Panama is a tiny country on the map, but immense in contrasts: a bridge between two continents, two oceans, and above all between the past and the future.

Historically, it is a place full of meaning. Before skyscrapers reshaped the horizon, the territory was inhabited by Indigenous peoples, then coveted by the Spanish, who turned it into a key hub of colonial trade. And of course, it is impossible to talk about Panama without mentioning the Panama Canal — this engineering masterpiece that connects the Atlantic and the Pacific, and that literally changed global trade. Today, the country blends all of that: traditions, human warmth, modernity, and a fully alive Latin vibe.

In Panama, the question of money is both simple… and a bit unusual. Officially, the country’s currency is the Panamanian balboa, but in everyday life, it is mostly the US dollar (USD) that is used everywhere. In fact, the balboa is directly tied to the dollar: 1 balboa is always equal to 1 US dollar. You will almost never see balboa banknotes in circulation, because they don’t really exist in practice. Instead, you use US bills. However, for coins, you may receive Panamanian ones — but they have exactly the same value as US cents. For a traveler, this makes everything much easier: you can arrive with US dollars and pay everywhere without worrying about exchange rates. Whether it’s a taxi, a restaurant, or a small street purchase, everything works in dollars. Small tip though: always keep some cash on you, especially for small local shops or more traditional places. Cards are accepted in many places, but cash is still very useful in daily life.

My immersion started… like 30 minutes after landing.

Barely arrived in Panama City, I headed straight to a small local beach, Veracruz Beach, not too far from the city. And there… wow. Not an Instagram-perfect beach, no. A real local beach. Families everywhere, BBQs smoking, music playing, kids running around, people singing. I was there, still with my backpack, completely jetlagged, already thrown into real Panamanian life. Honestly, what better first impression could you ask for? It was raw, alive, authentic.

One of my favorite moments was my bike ride along the Amador Causeway. But the more I think about it, the more I realize it wasn’t just “beautiful”… it was almost unreal.

First, you have to picture it: a long strip of land stretching into the ocean, connecting the city to small islands like Naos, Perico, and Flamenco. On both sides, the ocean as far as the eye can see. On one side, you spot massive cargo ships waiting their turn to cross the Panama Canal. On the other, the futuristic skyline of Panama City cutting through the slightly hazy tropical air. And there you are, on a bike, right in the middle of it all. Between two worlds. What I found fascinating is that this place isn’t just aesthetic — it was literally born from one of the most ambitious projects in human history. The rocks you’re riding on? They come from the canal excavations. So every pedal stroke is, in a way, rolling over a piece of history. There’s something almost poetic about that: turning a massive construction site into a space of life, freedom, and leisure. But beyond the history, it’s the atmosphere that stayed with me. Families strolling peacefully, couples walking hand in hand, people jogging at sunset, street vendors selling local snacks. At times, I would slow down just to observe. Just to be there. To feel the salty wind, hear the waves gently hitting the rocks, watch the sky slowly change color.

Then, I dove even further into the past with a visit to Panamá Viejo.

And there… a huge contrast. As if someone had turned the volume of the world down.

What struck me upon arrival wasn’t just the ruins — it was the silence. A silence that felt almost heavy, charged. You walk along dirt paths, surrounded by stones that have literally crossed centuries. There is this tall tower, still standing, like a survivor. It dominates everything, a bit proud, a bit fragile too. And around it, the remains of churches, houses, administrative buildings… everything that once made up a full, living, active city. Because yes, this wasn’t just “a historic site”. This was THE city. Founded in 1519, Panamá Viejo was the first Spanish colony on the Pacific coast of the Americas. It was a major strategic hub: all the gold and riches coming from Peru passed through here before being shipped to Europe. Imagine the activity — merchants, soldiers, ships, noise, tension. And then… everything stopped. In 1671, the pirate Henry Morgan attacked the city. A real one. Not a Disney version. He looted, destroyed, burned everything. The city was never rebuilt here. The survivors moved Panama City slightly further away — what is now Casco Viejo. When you know this, your visit takes on another dimension. You’re no longer just looking at stones… you’re seeing the traces of a complete collapse. There’s something deeply human in that: build, thrive, then lose it all. Visually, it is striking. Nature has taken over again. Grass, trees, roots slipping between the walls. And in the background — almost unreal — the modern skyline of Panama City. As if two eras were coexisting in front of your eyes. The past in ruins, the future rising.

From downtown Panama City, you can reach Panamá Viejo in about 15 to 20 minutes:

• Uber / taxi: the easiest and fastest option (around 5 to 10 USD)
• Local bus: more budget-friendly, but a bit less direct (you may need to walk a bit after)
• Rental car: convenient if you want to explore other areas around

Entrance to the site is paid (just a few dollars), but it’s really worth it. Take your time, walk slowly, climb the tower if it’s open — the view from the top is worth it. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t shout to get your attention. It doesn’t shine, it doesn’t perform. But if you take the time to really look at it… it tells you a story you won’t easily forget.

Now… let’s talk about the slightly less glamorous part of the trip.

My little Airbnb. Charming, warm, an absolutely lovely host who cooked incredible meals for us (like, seriously, I could have stayed just for that)… BUT. Because there is a but. Bed bugs. There you go. What a way to start a trip, right? At first, I kind of laughed (in a very “this is fine” way), kind of panicked, but I also tried to put things into perspective. Because despite that, there was so much beauty around. And honestly, the kindness of the host almost made up for everything. That’s also what traveling is: accepting the unexpected, even when it itches a little (literally).