Panama 2020 – Last Show On Earth Ep 8

The house of dreams, the house on the hill, tropical castle, humble fortress, treetop watchtower in the realm of the birds. 

We wandered up the hill, past the chicken shack onto the track, swinging right to dip down and climb again. Jose regaled us with tales of being gored by wild boar on this very track – most reassuring – then a rise cut into the jungle and here we were, there I am, dejá vu. Floating between moments, like stepping into a distant memory long forgotten yet somehow familiar, hyper real and disorientating all at the same time. For I had seen this house a few times, on my first trip here for sure, perhaps maybe last year not. Although obvious once you see it, it’s easy to miss, covered by palm trees flanking each side. As such, it had slipped into the realm of fantastical mystery, it has a magical quality for sure, I remember thinking, wow I would love to live there! And now I do! Or have done for a time, sanctuary, refuge, shelter from the storm. 

It was so strange to be standing in front of it looking down at the beach, realising I had it stored in my memory, like stepping into a painting or a movie. It has a most commanding view indeed, from the headland on the left all the way over to Palmira and beyond, quite petite with one room up and down on two floors with a bathroom tacked on the back, power but no signal, and water when it rains sufficiently to fill the tanks. 

The angelic carnival palm tree tops, I don’t know if I have talked of before. But they resemble figures in carnival costumes from behind, I’m pretty sure this must be where carnival costumes originated from in some distant past. We had four in front of our camp at the festival, like sentinels or protectors guarding our seaward side from on high. Here, due to the altitude and the slightly pointed nature of the hilltop plot, it feels like they are pulling your caravan chariot through the sky. The immense Atlantic waves crashing into the Caribbean reef below only exaggerates the effect of travel or journey, but also makes you feel protected, secure, invulnerable, invincible etc. The land formation is also like a ship, the house the bridge, the pool on deck, then it drops down to the bow deck, with a palm angel as figure head, with the waves crashing below and strong head wind you feel that sense of travel and journey even more, a sea caravan, a land ship, a voyage of discovery. 


I will remember being in the house on the hill, when the world stopped churning and time stood still, when all we really needed was a home, a place to sit and think alone. 

Where the endless sky rolls forever on, and the breaking reef stretches long, where the blue meets green of jungle deep, this house of dreams in which we sleep.

This land ship, this island, this sea caravan, where we sat and hatched our new world plans, while all was changing ever around, I will never forget this peace we found. 

And now it’s time to leave this place, this haven that has kept us safe, now we stand ready to face what comes, recall these rising and setting suns. 


I feel like it’s the safest place we could possibly be, and if I could, I think I would just stay here, but one must remember change is always good and we have a war to fight of sorts it seems. I have felt guilty enough being isolated somewhere so beautiful as it is, a big part of me feels this pull to return and experience what the rest of the world is experiencing, but another equally big part of me thinks fuck that! But let’s go! Reality HQ here we come. Reintroduction to society, perhaps a little sobriety, connection and reflection in this time to come, it’s gonna be weird but it’s gonna be fun!