From trash to treasure – a trek through Taboga

Last Saturday I decided enough with the city, time for a little r&r on an island! So, I hopped a ferry to Taboga an island just off the Pacific Coast of Panama City, and reachable in one hour by a leisurely ferry ride.

It was by no accident I ended up in Taboga; I had read much about it in the local newspaper and guidebooks. Often referred to as “the island of flowers” Taboga has a population of less than 1,000 and is home to the second oldest church in the Western Hemisphere. It also has about the same number of restaurants as cars I noticed, which is to my best judgment a total of 3.

When I arrived on the island I immediately felt tranquil and calm. The pristine island was beautiful and quite clean. In fact, signs were posted everywhere reminding people to use the trash cans located about every 10 feet. “With your help, keep Taboga clean” is what the signs read. What a magical place I thought!

Sunday as I was walking around town I decided to walk to the mouth of the hiking trails and just take a peek. However, when I arrived at the trails and saw nothing but greenery and a tall and daunting climb I knew that my peek at the trail would have to be satiated with a full out hike up to the top of the island whose pinnacle is a 10 foot cross the Spaniards left in the 1500’s. I saw three men coming out of the hike sporting hats, sunglasses, and comfortable walking shows. I immediately looked down at my own attire— choco sandals, a sundress, and a measly bottle of water. Ill prepared to say the least, but I said to myself something which I often find myself saying lately: well kiddo, you only live once, unless you believe in reincarnation. And in that case you might come back as a flower, and you can’t very well climb up a remote island as a flower can you?

I happily commenced my hike! True to form of ill-preparedness I also neglected to read the sign that pointed in the direction of where the cross and ultimate destination lay. What I saw instead was a fork in the path, I could go left which seemingly looked downhill or I could go right which looked more adventurous to my eyes. I picked the pathway which went right (and away from the cross).

The trail started off a little muddy, but I was still deep in excitement from being surrounded by lush trees and greenery. Not a single person in sight, too! However, half way up the trail I notice a peculiar and somewhat familiar odor. Then I notice the flies. A few feet later I come across a small patch of trash. How awful! Remembering all those signs I saw when I stepped onto the island, I think “I wonder if the people of Taboga know that trash has landed here?” Even further on the trail I see an even larger trash site, complete with thrown out fridges, plastic bottles galore, and decaying food. As if weren’t apparent before, it had finally dawned on me that this is where all the trash of the city winds up, and that I, in fact, was walking along the trail that is the trash dump and probably not intended for public excursions. The trash sites only got bigger and smellier the further I walked. By the time I reached the final trash dump, I was thoroughly depressed and annoyed that this is the product of tourism on the small and beautiful island of Taboga. It also reminded me how when I was a kid my idea of cleaning my room was throwing all my junk in my closet and under my bed. This offered the false view of a clean and well kempt room. Good short term fix for a polished looking area.


Not to worry, I finished my tour of the trash, walked back down the path and took the left fork this time. This journey was much different and rewarding. No trash littered this trail and the incline was pretty high and posed lovely little challenges for my choco sandaled feet.

I eventually (pouring down sweat) made it to the top of that island and touched the cross. By far the best view of the island and Panama City was seen from atop Taboga island. It was as green and blue as far as the eye could see. Funny that I witnessed the worst and best view in such a short time span.

Despite the massive trash dump Taboga generates, I would still recommend traveling to Taboga if one found themselves in this part of the world and were looking for a quiet and peaceful weekend. In what other trip can you visit what I would deem as a mullet personified as an island? Clean cut in the front and messy in the back. I, too, would recommend taking the right fork first, then the left. That way you can truly appreciate the view from the top.

The best part of this little community are the residents who are quite friendly. On my walks around the island everyone (and I mean everyone) takes a moment to acknowledge you, nodding their head and saying “buenas” or “hola”.

And with that, I will bid my buenas tardes to you all!