I made a dashingly bold decision this morning to wear a pair of shorts. Not my usual style, but I had my reasons. I reckoned that by taking myself out of my comfort zone, I might be able to find some sort of comfort zone. The objective was to reduce the extreme levels of sweating being induced by this Panama heat (not Panama hat, I haven't actually seen very many of them). Anyway, not only has my technique been unsuccessful but it has also led to, predictable, further complications.
As you might imagine, my legs are rather a different colour to most of those either playing in, or watching this tournament. Rather than being olive brown, mine are more the tone of porridge. Well no, after two hours of Latin America Amateur Championship spectating, they are now more the tone of porridge that has had some jam stirred into it. I thought one application of my trusty factor 15 coconut sun-oil spray would be sufficient. Turns out it wasn’t. You live and learn. At least, after 43 years, you might think you would, but then Scottish belligerence is a potent force.
An interesting thing about Panama is that we Scots tried to claim a bit of it back at the end of the 17th Century. The Darien Scheme was an ill-conceived plan by my erstwhile countrymen to try and dig themselves out of a financial hole back home by colonising the Darien Gap (now one of the most dangerous and unpassable bits of land in the world.) The Duke of Hamilton was well up for it and he had a lovely idea to establish gold mines in the territory where slaves would be “worked to death.” Nice chap the Duke of Hamilton. Things never got that far though as the Darien Scheme was an unqualified disaster. The land was somewhat less than fertile, in fact it was rather hostile. Almost all the protagonists from “The Home of Golf” perished from various horrid tropical diseases, starvation, dysentery or at the hands of some rather angry Spaniards. As far as I’m aware, none of them had the chance to play any golf at all out here.
Last night in a very stylish bar in the Costa del Este, just outside Panama City, fellow Scot Mike and I joked with a couple of Panamanians that we were back in the country to try and reclaim the territory. Our only problem was that we found ourselves stuck in the pub – a very Scottish predicament.
We were in that stylish bar as we had been to an exceptional restaurant called Maito, owned and run by renowned chef Mario Castrellón, he also owns the restaurant with the aforementioned bar. In fact, he and his business partners own 11 restaurants across Panama.
Mario was a tremendous host at Maito and delivered us a special and delicious tasting menu featuring dishes all constructed from a single giant grouper fish that had been speared and caught earlier in the day. We had cheeks and gills and wing and all sorts of ludicrous delights (including the amazing dessert pictured above which wasn't made using grouper) that showcased the best of Panamanian cuisine.
As a linking point between Pacific and Atlantic and South and Central America, Panama has a very international feel that’s reflected by the amazing food. Maito delivers it to the highest level. It was quite cool having the head chef sit at our table to talk food and golf and he joined us for drinks afterwards when we gate-crashed the birthday party of a friend of his. In another surreal moment, Mike and I found ourselves telling a group where they should go on their planned trip to Scotland this summer. We felt we should perhaps try and get our own back for Darien and suggest somewhere like Cowdenbeath, but we decided to be magnanimous and gave directions to some more scenic spots instead.
Mario is here at Santa Maria GC watching the golf each day and is clearly almost as passionate about the game as he is about his food. That seems a common sentiment as you walk the course - there’s great local interest, particularly around the home players.
The going is tough again today though and one-under is currently leading. The wind is gusting once more and the greens and surrounds appear extremely challenging. I saw a number of players struggling with chipping in particular. In fact, I saw Facundo Moraga of Chile duff a chip about three feet when it needed to go 30 – A problem I’m all too familiar with. I always feel a mixture of relief and sadness when I see an elite player duffing a chip. I can’t find it fully heartening as a bit of me thinks, ‘well if they can’t do it, how the hell am I going to fix my issues.’
I also saw a few short putts missed, including a couple in the group pictured above. But to be fair to these guys, they were probably distracted by the largest Argos in the world… see background. I can only imagine the size of the catalogues they have in there.
Back to food and a section of these reports that I know from amazing feedback to Wednesday's and Thursday's instalments is always popular – my lunch (see below).
Today’s miscellany included squid ink rice with calamari, pork with crackling and red pesto, stewed chicken and sea bass. Did I say the food in Panama is good?
Unfortunately, I spilled a dollop of chicken stew down my shirt and had to do some frantic scrubbing using my bottled water and napkin to save the situation. The resulting yellowy wet stain has now blended with my sweat patches to create a very unusual collage of unsightly blotches on the front of my shirt. I think I’ll stay in the media centre for a bit. Either that or I’ll go fully Scots, head out “Taps Aff,” cry “Freedom” and make an attempt to retake Darien.
