If you’re a South African, you may be exploring options to leave your home country and start your life somewhere new. Let me give you the reasons why you should choose Panama.

1. Easy Residency: If you have a South African passport, you can get a Friendly Nations Visa. This is a permanent visa that can typically be issued in less than six months. Plus, you can stay in Panama while your visa is in process. Once you get your Friendly Nations Visa, you can also get a work permit. We have a great attorney to recommend to help you with this. ​Contact us to learn more.
2. Great Financial Opportunity: Panama has a strong economy, and a large number of Multinational companies have their Latin American headquarters here. Companies such as Nestle, Dell, Proctor & Gamble, and Adidas all have a large presence in Panama. But even better, Panama is ripe for entrepreneurs. It’s like being in America 50 years ago. If you have a great idea and are willing to work hard, chances are good that you’ll be successful.
3. Low Cost of Living: Often times South Africans choose Australia, the UK, or the US. But Panama makes more financial sense. The currency is based on the US dollar, but the actual cost of living is about half of what is is in the US, and a fraction of what it is in the UK. You can live a better quality of life for less.
4. Thriving International Community: One of the most important things when moving to a new area is the friends you will make. Panama City is very international, which means you will meet other expats from around the world. There are a lot of American expats in Panama (including the writer of this blog), but you'll also meet people from Europe, South America, as well as a lot of other South Africans.
5. Good Schools: When it comes to education, Panama has a lot of choices. There are both public and private schools, and in the private school arena, there are a variety of international schools based on language, religion, heritage, and more.
6. No Tax on Foreign Earned Income. As a South African citizen and Panama resident, you will only pay taxes here on income that you earn in Panama. That means the money that you bring into Panama is not taxed, nor is the money you earn outside of Panama.
7. No Tax on Interest Earned in Panama Banks. You know what this means... more money in your pocket.
8. Affordable Beachfront Real Estate. Panama has 2,490 kilometers (1,547 miles) of coastline. But the best property in the country is the luxury apartment tower called Casa Bonita, located in a resort community less than 15 minutes from the heart of Panama City. Similar to resorts on Mauritius Island, the Playa Bonita Resort features a Westin Hotel with restaurants and five swimming pools. As an apartment owner, you'll have the opportunity to become a member of the Pearl Club, a private beach club just steps from the Pacific Ocean. Apartments start at just $300,000 USD for 103 m2, but you can get penthouses up to 389 m2 if you need more room to fit your lifestyle. Click here to see a video of Casa Bonita and the fabulous resort lifestyle you could live. It is near enough to Panama City for easy shopping or dinner reservations, yet it's out of the congestion and traffic of the city.
9. Low Crime Rate. Panama has low unemployment and strong drug laws. This translates into one of the lowest crime rates in Latin America, a welcome change for anyone who has ever had to worry about their safety.
10. Discounts for Pensioners. If you are retired and receive a minimum of $1,000 per month in government or private pension funds (plus $250 extra for each dependent), you can qualify for the Pensioner Visa. Although this visa does not allow you to work, you will get discounts on things like restaurants, electricity, flights originating in Panama, and even movie theater tickets.

As you can see, there are some great reasons to consider Panama. If you’d like to receive more information about Panama, just request my book, Panama Uncorked. I’d be happy to send it to you.

We also offer customized relocation tours where you can see the options for renting and purchasing in Panama City or nearby Coronado. Contact Melissa to learn more. I'd be happy to setup a time to chat on Skype.

Panama City is more than just a big bustling city, it’s a playground of hidden treasures. Some people who come to Panama bypass Panama City altogether because they think it’s just another big city. 

Before heading to the beach, take time to experience Panama’s Top 10 treasures. You'll experience local flavor as well as a bit of glitz and glamour. But if you ask me, that dichotomy is what makes Panama so special.
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1. Panama Canal. You can’t come to Panama without seeing the canal that helped shaped Panama into what it is today. Try to go on a weekday morning or late in the afternoon when crowds are lighter. The canal is more fascinating if you can take your time. Take the whole tour for $20. This includes a movie, a map, and a tour through the gift shop. There is also a restaurant at the Miraflores Locks where you can also eat lunch and watch the ships as you linger over a cocktail. 
2. Westin Playa Bonita. This is the only resort of its kind in Panama City. Situated just 15 minutes from the heart of Panama City, Playa Bonita is a private beachfront village. Have lunch at one of the many restaurants, enjoy a drink or meal poolside, take a walk on the beach, or just lounge with a cocktail as you watch dozens of ships line up to get through the Panama Canal. Playa Bonita is a private gated community but I’d love for you to be my guest. Just email me and we can set a beach play date. You can enjoy the amenities of Playa Bonita and take a tour of Casa Bonita, the condo where I live full time. It’s the only true resort living in Panama City.
3. Cinta Costera. The Cinta Costera is Panama City's waterfront area, with wide walking trails, biking trails, workout stations, playgrounds, tennis courts, and more. On a weekend morning, it's a place to see and be seen while you're walking your dog, roller blading, riding your bike, playing tennis, or just out for a leisurely stroll. 
4. Fish Market. The fish market is an easy stroll down the Cinta Costera. It is open daily and offers a wide selection of freshly caught fish, from corvina (the national fish) to octopus to prawns that look like baby lobsters. Aside from buying fish for your evening meal, you can get dozens of different types of fresh ceviches. The ceviche is served in big Styrofoam cups and comes with crackers. For $2-$4, you can sit outside the fish market and have a light meal. If you are staying in town and want to cook, fresh sushi grade Ahi tuna is only $3.50 per pound.
5. Casco Viejo. If you are walking down the Cinta Costera and hit the fish market, it's only a few more minutes to old town Casco Viejo where you'll find more bars, restaurants and shops than you'll know what to do with. This is the historic center and is definitely a must-see tourist destination. You'll see tourists mixing with artists stirred in with locals of all flavors. This is a great place to buy gifts from local artisans. You can get everything from handheld fans to Panama hats to handcrafted jewelry. Be sure to try a scoop of ice cream from Granclement or a snow cone from a street vendor. If you like coconut, it’s the most amazing coconut snow cone you’ve ever tasted!
6. Wholesale Produce Market. This is one of the hidden treasures of Panama City. It’s more the size of a shopping mall than a farmer’s market. You pay a quarter to drive in and then go to different areas of the market for different items. There is a pineapple area, a melon area, a citrus area, a banana area, and so on. This is where restaurants go to shop, so there are mountains of each type of produce at dirt cheap prices. For example, for $1 you can get any of the following: 12 bananas, 2 pineapples, 2 huge bunches of basil, a watermelon, 2 coconuts, 20 limes, and more. This is a working produce market so wear clothes that can be easily washed. When it rains, you might get muddy, and when it’s hot, you’ll definitely smell the ripe (or rotting) produce, but the abundance of cheap just-picked produce makes the experience worthwhile. Each week I stuff my SUV with ultra-fresh produce for about $20.
7. Hard Rock Hotel. No trip to Panama City would be complete without a trip to the Hard Rock Hotel. It’s centrally located on Avenida Balboa right next to MultiCentro Mall. Go to the second floor and order a Ciao Lobster Roll sandwich and pair it with a lychee martini. In the evening, this is a place to go to see and be seen so be sure to wear something glittery. 
8. Gamboa Rainforest. A mere 30 minutes from the heart of Panama City is the Gamboa Rainforest. The rainforest offers a whole spectrum of things to do, and you could literally spend days in this area. The flora and fauna of the rainforest are unique to this area, and if you go early in the morning, you’ll see monkeys and exotic birds. Plus, it’s typically much cooler in the rainforest than it is in the city. At the Gamboa Rainforest Resort, check out the tour desk. You can take a Gatun Lake expedition by boat, an aerial tram tour, a bird watching tour, a night safari, or even take you kayaking through the Panama Canal.
9. Amador Causeway. The Amador Causeway not only connects three islands, but it’s also the Pacific Ocean entrance to the Panama Canal. When you drive down the beautiful lane with water on both sides, you can often see ships as they enter and exit the canal. The causeway is about three kilometers long and extends into the Pacific Ocean. Enjoy the beautiful views of the ocean, the Panama City skyline, and the yachts in the harbor as you walk or bike on the trail. Be sure to linger over a meal at a nice restaurant--or quick food from a street-food-style kiosk--and enjoy the view.
10. Whale Watching. A day trip on a boat during whale migration season will bring a smile to your face. You’ll enjoy the sparkling water, see whales playing in the water, and you can even swim with the dolphins. 

As you can see, there’s enough to do to keep you busy for a week or more while you’re staying at beautiful Casa Bonita in one of our luxurious rental condos. If you want more suggestions, please contact me. I’d love to share more of my adopted city with you.  

Rice and beans would appear just before starvation on my list of favorite foods. Well, that was my attitude yesterday. Today, amped-up rice and beans is up there with Ahi Tuna Towers and Spaghetti Carbonara. In fact, this was one the best lunches I've prepared in a long time.

It was Day 3 of construction in my apartment. In Panama, labor is cheap but you need to feed the workers as part of their pay. I was out of chicken and was trying to think of something suitably rib-sticking to fix for these young men who may typically eat several thousand calories each day for lunch. (A simple sandwich and a bag of chips produces sad eyes that make you feel like you just pulled your cat's tail.) Chaos makes me crazy, and it would be fair to say my apartment was a disaster. I had no creativity left for cooking. 

I found two cans of black beans in the cupboard and some leftover brown rice in the fridge. That's where I started. Even after i spiced it up with onion, bell pepper, cumin, chili powder, salt and pepper, my taste buds were ready to wilt from boredom. 

That's when I got creative. 

I typically keep a variety of local produce on hand, such as pineapple, limes, jalapenos and cilantro. I remembered a pineapple/cilantro salsa that I'd had recently, and my first thought was to make tacos with the bean portion and have a separate pineapple salsa. Then I looked around at all of the gypsum dust and made the snap decision not to dirty another pan. I added the sweet and spicy components directly to the beans and let it simmer.

After about ten minutes, I scooped the finished product into a bowl and brightened it with lime juice and cilantro. I'm sure I frowned because it wasn't the prettiest thing I've ever seen. I took a small taste before serving it to the workers, and my senses did the Flamenco. Beans and rice and pineapple... where have you been all of my life!

Now here is my guilty confession. I liked it so much that I didn't want to give it to the workers anymore. My mind raced devilishly to think of some other suitable substitute I could cook for them, but I came up empty. 

When I gave the men their lunch, I told them it was picante. Unlike Mexico, Panama cuisine is on the bland side, and the average Panamanian doesn't like spicy food. Yes, I was still angling to have some leftovers for tomorrow, If they thought it was too spicy, there'd be more for me. No such luck. They cleaned their plates and wanted more. 

There were nothing left when lunch was over. 

Aside from a bit of dicing, this is a super easy recipe that takes less than thirty minutes to make. My advice? Double it. You'll thank me tomorrow.

Spicy Pineapple Rice & Beans

• 2 cups brown rice, prepared
• 2 cans Black beans, rinsed
• 1/2 onion, diced
• 1 yellow bell pepper, diced
• 1 T. Olive oil
• 2 T. Cumin powder
• 1 tsp. Salt
• 1 tsp. Black pepper
• ½ cup Water
• 2 cups Pineapple, finely diced
• 2-3  Jalapenos, seeded and finely diced
• 2 T. Coconut cream
• 2  Limes
• ½ cup Cilantro

​Saute onion and bell pepper in olive oil until soft and brown. Add black beans, water and dry spices. Simmer for 15 minutes. Add pineapple, jalapenos and coconut cream. Simmer for another 10 minutes. Spoon onto plate as a side dish, in a tortilla for a taco, or in a bowl as a main course. Squeeze half a lime and a generous amount of cilantro. Serve immediately. 

If you make it, post a comment and let me know how it turned out. If you change the recipe, let me know... I may try it, too!

Have you ever tackled Mother Nature… and lost?
If you have, you probably learned not to mess with Mother Nature. I learned this just recently.
​
Let me start at the beginning. I’m an American who lives in Playa Bonita, an idyllic beachfront resort community just outside of Panama City in the Central American country of Panama. There’s no crime, no natural disasters, and no big surf in our protected bay.

One day I said to my Latin husband, “I wish our beach had big crashing waves.” He agreed, and on a lark, we drove to Pedasi, a small town on a Panama peninsula about four-hours from where I live. Pedasi is known for its surfer beaches and big crashing waves.

We got to our beachfront hotel late in the evening, and my husband was too tired to go swimming. I had been dreaming of the water for the entire drive, so I donned my bathing suit and went out to the beach on my own, excited for the refreshing feel of the cool ocean water at night. Within a few minutes, a huge wave picked me up and threw me down, and then the undertow scraped me along the ocean floor.

I’m not a glutton for punishment. The ocean had won.

Ocean — 1, Gringa — 0.

I dragged myself back to our room, feeling like an almost-drowned cat and looking like a ten-year-old who had fallen off her bicycle. I had angry red sand scrapes over my entire legs, arms and hands. Sand isn’t some soft powdery substance; it’s tiny pieces of rock and glass.

I had gotten used to living in our Disneyland-esque community, where even the waves behaved.
I told my husband the story, and he laughed at my folly. “I’ll go with you tomorrow,” he said, as if the presence of a man would quiet the waves. “It’ll be okay.”

Mm-hmm.

The next day I put on a dry Tankini bathing top with matching skirt and followed my husband outside. We went past the outdoor beachfront restaurant where all the other guests were having a civilized breakfast — white tablecloths, coffee with saucers, toast with jam — you get the gist. We were hungry but we wanted to earn our breakfast.

The beach was deserted. Since the restaurant was full, we thought we’d picked the best time.

The waves didn’t seem so intimidating in the light of day. My husband skipped into the surf and dove under the waves with the nimbleness of an athlete. While I was still getting my legs wet, he was already hundreds of feet out.

Okay, I thought, today I will conquer the ocean.

Right about then a big wave came out of nowhere, knocking me down. Before I could stand up, the undertow pulled me out, scraping me along the sandy ocean bottom in a nasty bit of deja vu. I fought the undertow with my fingernails in the sand, but I was no match for its strength.

The ocean laughed at me, pulling off my bathing skirt until it was down around my ankles. Before I could regain my footing — or pull up my skirt — another wave knocked me down again. Then the undertow pulled me the opposite direction. I struggled to get my footing with my bathing suit bottoms wrapped around my ankles. The struggle caused the tankini portion of my bathing suit to get tangled around my armpits.
This was not a sexy removal of clothing. This was a hazing.

With every wave, more sand found its way into the seams of my bathing suit. The more I struggled to pull up my skirt, the heavier it got.

In some corner of my mind, I knew that the Panamanians we had passed were watching this very white-skinned Gringa rolling naked in the ocean. I struggled to cover myself, but for several minutes, I wore nothing more than sea foam as I was battered with wave after wave.

When the ocean had had its fun, it released me from its vice-like grip. I tried pulling up my skirt, which now had several pounds of sand between the fabric layers. I felt like a toddler with a very dirty diaper. Because of all the sand, the skirt wouldn’t pull up in a normal way, and I had to hold it in front and in back like two cement blocks while I crawled out of the clutches of the sea. I untangled the tank-top portion of my bathing suit, which also had its share of sand, and I waddled to the hotel’s outdoor shower.

As fate would have it, the only beach shower was at the front of the breakfast area. In my worst nightmare, I couldn’t have thought of a more humiliating place for the shower to be.

As I pulled seaweed from my hair, I saw the adults smirking at me, trying not to laugh as I attempted to dislodge the sand from my bathing suit. I watched with horror as the little kids pointed at me with long outstretched fingers, as if I were a strange creature at the zoo. My nightmare was real; they had seen it all. Literally.

Their smiles said the show had been better than Comedy Central. And why not? They’d had front row tickets while a naïve Gringa had tackled the sea…and lost. Like the Roman mob that had watched gladiators fight tigers in the Coliseum, my audience had calmly eaten breakfast while watching the show. Now I realized why none of them were swimming in the ocean. They knew better.

Ocean — 2, Gringa — 0.

As I struggled to rid myself of a few pounds of sand at the outdoor shower, my husband came up behind me. “I think you should shower in our room,” he said. “You’re the only American woman here, and everyone is staring at you.”

I gave him a soggy look, trying to burn him with my laser eyes. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t save me from the ocean — and the humiliation — but the irrational-wife-voice came out, dripping with sarcasm.

“My love, “ I said in the most unloving tone I could muster, “they are not staring at me because I have white skin. They’re laughing at me because they just saw me butt-naked while the ocean tried to drown me.”
My husband gave me a blank look. He had no idea what I was talking about. He’d been too busy swimming with the innocence of a child to notice there was a problem with his sweet bride.

By the time I managed to tell him the story between gulps of air (I still hadn’t caught my breath), he was glaring back at the people when they stared. He might not have saved me from the ocean, but he could save me from further embarrassment.

Gladiator Husband — 1, Panamanian Mob — 0.

When I got home, I walked on my gentle beach, grateful for my calm waves at Playa Bonita Resort. I promised my sweet ocean I would never again take her for granted.

Mm-hmm.
​
If you’d like to know what it’s like to live in a beachfront community in Panama, click here to request a complimentary copy of my book, “Panama Uncorked: Everything You Need to Know to Visit, Live and Invest in Panama.” It’s my gift to you.

Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays, perhaps because I love the ritual of cooking as much as I love sharing food with friends and family. There is something soothing about chopping, mixing and creating a meal. As early as September, I start dreaming about roasted turkey, homemade pie, and my grandmother’s china.

For Thanksgiving this year, I decided to change the menu and swap out a few of the heavy carb-laden foods for lighter, fresher options. I was going to be the only American at my Thanksgiving feast, and the others might not realize the difference. After all, the turkey is the star of the meal. I chose to keep my favorite carb — the stuffing — but cancelled the mashed potatoes, gravy and sweet potatoes. Then I swapped the caloric green bean casserole for roasted carrots, yellow peppers and green beans. My rationale? I wanted to save calories for a new recipe I’d discovered for amaretto chocolate pie.

I bought a big Butterball turkey four days prior to Thanksgiving, and asked my husband, Kleriston, to put it in a friend’s refrigerator, as mine was full. The day before Thanksgiving, I went to get my turkey so I could brine it… and it was missing! No turkey in the refrigerator. With a heavy heart and shaking hands, I opened the freezer. There it was, 24 hours before T-day, and my bird was frozen solid.

When I met my Brazilian husband five years ago, he only spoke Portuguese. Being a typical American, I only spoke English, and neither one of us spoke Spanish. Over the past several years, he’s learned both English and Spanish, which is a Godsend because I still don’t know Portuguese ...and I speak Spanish like a five-year-old. Although Kleriston seems almost fluent when you talk to him, we often have Whose-on-First type of conversations. Sadly for my Thanksgiving meal planning, he thought I wanted the turkey to stay frozen.

When I discovered the star of my Thanksgiving dinner was a twenty-pound ice cube, I went to my Brazilian BFF’s house and knocked on her door. Through alligator tears, I told Rosane that our Thanksgiving dinner was ruined. Being a non-American, she didn’t understand my distress, but she calmed me down with a compassionate shoulder and a glass of wine. (Really, I don’t understand why men think we’re complicated. All women ever need is a full glass of wine and a listening ear.)

Rosane and I discussed options. My Thanksgiving feast was halfway prepped, so I didn’t want to put it off four days while the turkey thawed out in the fridge. I also didn’t want to chuck my favorite tradition and go to a restaurant. We decided the only solution would be to roast a chicken. I sent my husband back to the grocery store the night before Thanksgiving (which was chaotic because the American holiday is celebrated by many in Panama) to buy the biggest chicken he could find. He came back at nine at night with two of the puniest chickens I’ve ever seen. It was Thanksgiving after all, and the stores shelves had been depleted.

Thanksgiving morning, I went to the beach with a light heart for our morning swim. I didn’t have a turkey, but I had two chickens, a lot of fresh vegetables, an amazing pie… and a plan. After my swim, I went straight to the hardware store. One of the benefits of celebrating a U.S. holiday in Panama is that all of the stores are open for last minute necessities. I wanted to buy a rotisserie attachment for my grill. My husband, bless his Brazilian heart, never learned how to grill. I would love to send him to BBQ Bootcamp for a week, but since every other man on the planet knows how to barbecue, this cooking school for men doesn’t exist yet. (If you start one, email me right away. I have your first attendee.)

At the hardware store, I found an add-on rotisserie kit. I opened the box and read the instructions. There were half a dozen diagrams and a few words of gibberish, but on a day when every minute counted, I couldn’t imagine that two non-handy people could figure out how to put the made-in-China product together, and then successfully roast a chicken. To solve problem number two, I opted for the $35 stainless steel hang-the-chicken-upside-down-over-beer-thingy-ma-jig. No assembly required. Just what I needed.

I marinated the chicken, and exactly one hour before dinner, I lit the grill. Problem number three came when the cavity of the barely-an-adolescent chicken wasn’t large enough to go over the stainless steel cup filled with beer. With marinade-messy hands, I got my sharpest poultry knife and performed surgery on the poor bird. Problem number four came when I tried to close the lid on the grill. Since I’m a barbecue newbie myself, I’d put the chicken at the front of the grill, where the chicken was too tall to close the lid. I tried to take off the warming grill at the back but forgot the grill was hot! (Perhaps I need to send myself to BBQ Bootcamp.) Yes, burning my hand was problem number five.

I finally got the bird arranged in the barbecue and the lid closed. I needed champagne — for medicinal purposes, mind you — to take my mind off of my scorched hand and my crazy day of problematic cooking. I set the timer for one hour and got ready for my company.
My friends arrived on time, and we had more champagne. When the timer went off, I sent Kleriston outside with a meat thermometer and told him the bird should be 160 degrees.
He yelled from outside, “It’s 200 degrees. Is it done?”
Problem number six… I killed the chicken. Thankfully, we had a backup bird that had been bathing in marinade. We put the second chicken on the grill and set the timer for 45 minutes. My champagne-soaked brain thought that shaving 15 minutes off the cooking time should take off 40 degrees. More champagne and more chitchat, and the time zoomed by. When my husband went out to check the chicken with the meat thermometer at the allotted time, it was 180 degrees.

My face fell. How could I have overcooked not one, but two chickens? I really am a good cook. Well, I am when I’m not drinking champagne.

We pulled the second chicken off the grill and literally ran to the dinner table with everything else that had been warming in the oven. The stuffing was sublime, the mushrooms were marvelous, and the wine was divine. And the chicken? Well, it was overcooked, but we ate it. And at the end of the evening, all the food was gone.

My Thanksgiving disaster had been saved. Not by a chicken or a new barbecue accessory, but by the friends I’ve made in Panama. Oh, and the champagne didn’t hurt either.
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If you’re intrigued about life in Panama, request a copy of my tell-all book. It’s my gift to you. Click here and I will send you a FREE copy of Panama Uncorked: Everything You Need to Know to Visit, Live and Invest in Panama.

The average budget for a foreigner investing in Panama is about $300,000, but there are many great options that are great buys for $200,000 or less.

Panama Riviera
The French Riviera is famous for gorgeous yachts, tanned bodies … and startling price tags. If you want to avoid spending your children’s inheritance, hop a flight to Panama and take a look at the Panama Riviera, a section of Panama’s Pacific Ocean coastline with mile after mile of pristine beaches. It takes about one hour by car to drive from one end of the Panama Riviera to the other. Located just 90 minutes from Panama City, Panama’s capital and largest city, it is a self-contained community with restaurants, shopping, salons, and everything else you need to live a normal life.

You can get an an absolute-oceanfront apartment in Nuevo Gorgona for less than $200,000. Nuevo Gorgona, often referred to as simply Gorgona, is located right next door to Coronado, the heart of the Panama Riviera.
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Here are a few great real estate options in beach communities in the Panama Riviera that cost less than $200,000 for fully titled apartments.

When famous--and security conscious--people come to Panama, there is only one place for them to stay. Playa Bonita Resort has been the in-country home for presidents, kings, politicians, dignitaries, movie stars, and yes, even yours truly. Luckily, I get to live in Paradise full-time and share my backyard with famous people on a regular basis.

When asked why I moved to Panama, I tell people I moved here for the view. Then often they look at me with a deer-in-the-headlights look. After all, the US is full of beautiful views. They don't get it until they see the view where I live. Words alone cannot describe the opulent beauty of the Playa Bonita Resort, where I live, work and play. I share my backyard with a Westin Resort and the Pearl Club, a member-only beach club. My building, Casa Bonita, is a residential tower of luxury apartments ranging in price from $335,000 to $1.5 million. These apartments would cost ten times the price in Miami, and can be rented by the week, month or year. (Contact me if you want rental information.) The real value, though, is not in the finish-out or in the services, but in the million-dollar views of Panama City, the Pacific Ocean, the jungle, and the mouth of the Panama Canal.

Because of the beauty and the security of Playa Bonita, it is a destination for tourists, conferences and the world's elite. We have been graced with many presidents, although none so famous as former US President Barack Obama during his presidency. (When he visited, our tight security became even tighter with the onslaught of secret service, FBI, armored cars, snipers, and titanium-toothed German Shepherds.) 

This past week, we welcomed US Vice President Mike Pence to the neighborhood. It would have been a kick to see him on TV with my palm trees behind him had he not been discussing the horrific terror attack in Barcelona. Sadly, because of that, his trip to Panama was cut short. Just when I was going to invite him over for a glass of wine.

If you would like to visit--or buy--where presidents and kings rest their heads, give me a shout. Paradise is more affordable than you think.

Before visiting Panama the first time, I thought I'd have to wear full-strength Deet every day to protect myself from the little blood-sucking mosquitoes. The truth about mosquitoes in Panama is much different than my pre-conceived notions. Mosquitoes are actually fewer and further between than I had imagined. I rarely get bitten, and almost never put on insect repellent.

Here is some mosquito information, and a bit of trivia.

• There are more mosquitoes in rainy season than in dry season. Well, of course! Mosquitoes love water, especially dirty standing water.
• Mosquitoes (the ones that bite people) don't typically fly above 25 feet. That means if you're on the third floor or higher, you can sit out on your balcony and remain bite-free. That's also why condos in Panama don't come with screens on the windows.
• Only female mosquitoes bite. Why? Because they need blood to produce eggs. (Hey, I know what you were going to say!)
• Some mosquito varieties prefer the ankles while others prefer the face and neck. Researchers don't know why.
• The most mosquito-prone month in Panama is May. The rest of the time I simply avoid going out at dawn or dusk and I rarely get bitten.
• The New Yorker reported that mosquitoes are more attracted to beer drinkers than to wine drinkers. Yet another reason to drink more wine.
• Mosquitoes are attracted to sweat and stinky feet, so if you keep yourself very clean, you are less likely to get bitten.
• Mosquitoes are attracted to floral fragrances, so leave your perfume and scented lotions at home.
• Mosquitoes are attracted to carbon monoxide (CO2). If you find yourself in a swarm, hold your breath.
• Many people who live in Panama who walk their dogs or workout at dawn and dusk swear by natural repellents, such as oregano oil, eucalyptus oil or whole-leaf aloe vera gel. I am a fan of aloe vera and keep a spray bottle nearby. The trick to aloe vera is that is has to have a strong--almost stinky--herbal scent, or is won't have enough of the good stuff to be effective.