Santa Catalina is famous among certain circles for La Punta, a challenging break off a rocky beach that attracts surfers from all over the world.

This is a place I could disappear into. And over the course of the five days I spent in the remote village of Santa Catalina on Panama’s Pacific Coast, I met many people who seemed to be doing just that. There was the Italian surfer who came many years ago and now returns again and again, for longer periods each time. Or the British dive master who thought she would spend a season here at Panama Dive Center, but just passed two years in town.

Then there’s the American who came to take a break from some stressful business in Boquete 170 miles away. He originally booked a brief stay at a hostel but, by the time I got to town, had moved into an apartment and had no end date to his trip.

Under the brutal noonday sun, when I, along with seemingly everyone else in town, retreated to a hammock in a spot of shade, I found myself daydreaming about being swallowed up by this little town too. I could find a new rhythm, dictated by when the waves were good for surfing and the visibility was good for diving, in a place where even the Wi-Fi takes things slow, restaurant menus depend on what’s been caught that day and everything is just quieter.

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