Panama

Watching ships climb the locks is Panama’s signature experience, and the two visitor centres show different parts of it. Miraflores, twenty minutes from the city, looks over the original locks and is the iconic stop — but it’s being modernised through the end of 2026, so confirm it’s open before you go. Agua Clara, over on the Caribbean side near Colón, is the public window on the expanded Neopanamax locks that take the largest ships, and it’s open daily.

Transits come in waves rather than a steady stream, so aim for mid-morning or early afternoon and check the day’s posted schedule. The drought story (above) is a shipping-capacity issue, not something that stops you seeing ships cross. For the full immersion, a partial-transit boat tour actually takes you through a set of locks.

Entry is straightforward: US and Canadian visitors get up to 180 days visa-free, while EU, UK and Australian visitors get 90, with no eTA to arrange — just have an onward ticket (checked at Tocumen) and your passport valid six months. Panama uses the US dollar as its paper currency (the local balboa exists only as coins, pegged one-to-one), which makes budgeting simple for many visitors.

It’s one of the pricier countries in Central America, roughly on a par with Costa Rica. Cards work in the cities and tourist areas and ATMs are widespread, but the islands and remote spots — San Blas above all — are effectively cash-only, so carry dollars when you leave the city. Tipping is around 10%, and many mid-range and upscale restaurants already add a 10% service charge, so check the bill before adding more.

The one rule that reshapes a Panama itinerary: the two coasts don’t share a season. The Pacific — the capital, the canal and the Azuero beaches — is reliably dry and sunny from mid-December to April, the clear best window. The Caribbean around Bocas del Toro keeps its own counsel, raining through much of the year but often at its driest in September–October and February–March.

Two dates to plan around: Carnival, four days before Ash Wednesday, is a huge national party (Las Tablas on the Azuero is the famous one), and the Pacific humpback season runs July to October. Panama sits below the hurricane belt, so direct strikes are rare.

• it’s the Pacific rainy season (May–Nov)Skipwriting off the whole countryGothe Caribbean side — Bocas is often drier in September–October — or the cool Boquete highlands
• the Miraflores canal centre is closed for its revampSkipa wasted trip to the Pacific locksGoAgua Clara on the Caribbean side for the giant new locks — or a partial-transit boat tour
• San Blas transport is suspended at short noticeSkipa rigid island bookingGoa flexible plan, or the Pearl Islands / Pacific coast as a backup

The rule that reshapes a Panama itinerary: the two coasts don’t share a season. The Pacific — the capital, the canal and the Azuero beaches — is reliably dry from mid-December to April, but the Caribbean (Bocas del Toro, San Blas) keeps its own rhythm and can be wet when the Pacific is dry. Check the season for the coast you’re actually heading to rather than a single “best time,” and don’t assume a dry-season flight means dry-season islands.

Tocumen (PTY) is one of the Americas’ great air hubs — Copa Airlines connects half the hemisphere through it — but the catch is that domestic flights leave from a separate city airport, Albrook, so check which one your island or highland hop uses. Panama City has a clean, cheap metro (the first in Central America) for getting around town, and ride-hailing works well.

Beyond the city, a short, well-connected country opens up: the Pan-American Highway runs the spine (Panama City to David, the gateway to Boquete, is 6–7 hours or a quick flight), while San Blas is a 4x4-and-boat journey and Bocas del Toro is reached by a flight or a bus-and-water-taxi combination. Everything is doable in a fortnight, two or three regions at a time.

A few practical footnotes. Tap water is safe to drink in Panama City and most of the country — unusual for the region — but boil or treat it in Bocas del Toro and San Blas. The emergency number is 911. And Panama is earthquake country: it sits on an active plate boundary, a strong quake hit the Pacific south-west in October 2026, and the coastal rule after long, strong shaking is to move to high ground rather than wait for a tsunami alert.

Panama City is unusually cosmopolitan for the region — a glass skyline above Casco Viejo, the restored Spanish-colonial old town (a UNESCO site), with the Amador Causeway and Frank Gehry’s Biomuseo running out into the bay, and the rainforest of Soberanía NP for birding minutes away. From there the country splits into distinct experiences. San Blas (Guna Yala) is the postcard Caribbean — hundreds of palm islands run by the Guna people (see the FAQ for access).

Inland and west, Boquete in the Chiriquí highlands is cool "eternal-spring" country — prized coffee, cloud-forest hiking, and Volcán Barú, Panama’s highest point, from which on the clearest mornings you can glimpse both oceans. Bocas del Toro, the north-west Caribbean archipelago, brings reefs, surf and an Afro-Caribbean, backpacker-eco vibe, and the Pacific holds the diving of Coiba and the Pearl Islands. It’s a lot of variety within a short, well-connected country.

Most trips start in Panama City (the canal, Casco Viejo) and then choose a direction: the Caribbean islands of San Blas or Bocas, the Pacific whales and diving around Coiba and the Pearl Islands, or the cool Boquete highlands. Because the two coasts run on opposite seasons, the smart move is to match the region to the month rather than try to see everything.

Panama’s cooking is a Spanish-Afro-Caribbean-indigenous mix, built on seafood, plantain and rice. The comfort dish is sancocho, a chicken-and-root soup fragrant with culantro; the Pacific delivers superb ceviche; and patacones (twice-fried plantain) come with everything. On the Caribbean side the food turns coconut-and-spice Afro-Caribbean.

The star export is in the cup: the Boquete highlands grow Geisha coffee, among the most prized and expensive in the world. The national spirit is Seco Herrerano, a clear sugarcane liquor, and the everyday beers are Balboa, Panama and Atlas.

Panama’s modern identity is bound up with the canal and the United States: the US built it, controlled a Canal Zone through the 20th century, invaded in 1989 to remove Noriega, and handed the canal fully to Panama only in 1999. The legacy is a cosmopolitan, dollar-using, widely English-speaking country, more outward-looking than its neighbours, with a banking-hub capital.

The other thread is Indigenous Panama, above all the Guna of San Blas (Guna Yala), who won real autonomy and govern their islands on their own terms — famous for the intricate mola textiles. Visit respectfully: ask before photographing people, and expect to pay the fees the Guna congress sets. (And the "Panama hat" is a myth — it’s actually Ecuadorian; it just shipped through Panama.)

For LGBTQ+ travellers: same-sex activity is legal, but Panama does not recognise same-sex marriage — its Supreme Court upheld the ban in 2023 — and the country is socially Catholic and fairly conservative, though Panama City is relatively relaxed. The usual discretion applies.