The Red Devils of Panama

​In this tale I describe an unforgettable adventure on the Diablos Rojos aka "Red Devil" Busses of Panama   . . . ​

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Los Diablos Rojos

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​After exiting Tocumen International Airport, I was in no mood to be ripped off by an overpriced taxi. Avoiding the barrage of sales pitches, I followed the path between buildings and out to the street with the intention of taking a public bus. The mid-day heat was intense and I was beginning to question how long of a wait I would have.

​Suddenly a thunderous sound rumbled from off in the distance. Within seconds there came around the corner came a monstrosity beyond all comprehension. It was an old school bus modified with drag pipes and decorated with colorful graffiti that was accented with neon lights. The word “Nightmare” was ominously painted across the windshield. Reggaeton music was cranking from within as limbs and heads hanged out the windows. The bus was headed in the direction of El Centro, and I knew immediately this was to be my ride. I attempted to hand the driver a few bucks, but he just motioned and nodded as if to say "get in, take a seat, and hang on". 

We were soon barreling down Via Espana at what seemed like breakneck speeds, with the driver occasionally blowing the horn to let others know to get out of the way. My new surroundings were decorated in the manner of a 1960’s brothel complete with red vinyl interior, leather fringe, and fuzzy dice. I was the only gringo onboard and immediately began to acquire a few strange looks. The lady across the aisle gave me a sly smile showing that she knew this was my first time on one of these busses the locals refer to as “Diablos Rojos” or Red Devils.

With each stop more people got on. Each were going about their daily business, many looking like they were on their way home from work. Soon we were picking up a lady with a shopping bag full of groceries, then a man got on carrying a large extendable paint roller. I must admit that I stuck out ridiculously in this mix. The city skyline seemed to be getting closer. I was beginning to calculate in my head about how many stops before I would need to get off when we passed by a much larger city bus with only inches between the two vehicles. The driver blew the horn and seemed to yell some flavorful obscenity too fast for my gringo ears.

A few stops later we were in the middle of the city, parked by the curb. It was hot without wind circulating through the window, and I was beginning to wonder how much longer this stop would take. That was when I noticed that the driver and his companion were outside, and the hood was up. It looked as if Nightmare was having problems. I actually felt bad for it in some strange way. Two police officers now approached as traffic was backing up behind us. It looked as if we would not be moving any time soon, so I decided to bail. I took off out the door and slipped the driver some cash shouting “Gracias amigo”. The hotel was now easily within walking distance for this backpack wearing gringo. The nightmare ride may have been over, but my adventure was only beginning. 

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If you would like to read more about my adventures in Panama,
​then follow this link to my travel guide!