Day two in Panama — the shorts crisis, Latin America’s biggest mall, and learning how to cool down

We woke up on day two pressed against each other and genuinely cold. In Panama. Cold. The hotel room had been set to 19.5°C when we arrived the night before and we’d left it exactly there, and by morning it had done its job so thoroughly that we needed to actually raise the temperature one degree before getting out of bed. This is not a complaint. After the airport metro adventure of day one, a room that felt like a walk-in refrigerator was exactly what we needed.

Breakfast, coffee, and the beginning of a routine

We went to Wendy’s for breakfast. Yes, we know — not exactly immersing ourselves in local cuisine on day two. But here’s the practical reality we discovered quickly: most of the local breakfast spots in our area of El Cangrejo are not air-conditioned. When you’re still acclimating to heat and humidity you haven’t felt since the last time you were in Panama, the decision between “authentic” and “air-conditioned” is not a difficult one. Wendy’s it was. No regrets.

After breakfast we found what quickly became our daily ritual: two iced French Vanilla coffees each at Tim Horton’s. There’s something slightly surreal about sitting in a Tim Horton’s in Panama City planning your day, but we’re not apologizing for it. It was cool, comfortable, and gave us thirty minutes to talk through what we wanted to do. The coffee was good. We went back every single day.

Exploring El Cangrejo — not what the guides prepared us for

El Cangrejo — hillier than we expected, more mixed than the guides suggested, and very much a neighborhood in the middle of figuring out what it wants to be.

El Cangrejo is the neighborhood most recommended to expats researching Panama City, and we wanted to see it properly on foot rather than through an Uber window. First surprise: it’s hilly. Genuinely hilly, with some streets climbing at grades we hadn’t anticipated. The guides don’t mention this much. If you have mobility considerations, factor it in.

Second observation: the neighborhood is in transition in a way that “established expat area” doesn’t fully convey. Some buildings are recently constructed and well-maintained. Others are clearly from El Cangrejo’s heyday — which appears to have been at least forty years ago — and show the kind of deferred maintenance that raises questions about what’s happening inside the walls, not just on the outside. The area is vibrant, safe, and full of bars, restaurants, and shops. It’s also noticeably mixed in quality from block to block in a way you need to see in person rather than assess from photos.

For us specifically — we’re looking for a free-standing house rather than a condo or apartment. El Cangrejo is almost entirely condos and apartment buildings. That observation alone tells you something about whether it’s the right fit for your particular vision of Panama life. If condo living works for you, there’s real value here. If you want a house with a yard, this isn’t your neighborhood.

The shorts situation — an honest conversation about the heat

Before leaving for Panama, we did what any reasonably thorough researchers would do: we read everything we could find about what to wear. And almost everything said the same thing — men wear long pants in Panama. It’s the local expectation. Pack accordingly.

So we packed mostly long pants and only two pairs of shorts between us. This was a mistake.

The reality on the ground: yes, long pants are more common — we’d estimate roughly 90% of men we saw were wearing them. But a meaningful 10% were in shorts, especially given the heat. More importantly, the advice to wear long pants everywhere applies most strictly to government buildings and certain businesses. For walking around the city, exploring neighborhoods, shopping, eating — shorts are fine. Uncommon but fine. And for someone like me whose core body temperature rises faster than it should in heat and humidity, “uncommon but fine” was information I needed before I packed.

By mid-morning on day two, with the temperature climbing into the upper 80s and the humidity doing what Panama humidity does, I was overheating again. We made a decision: we needed to find shorts, and we needed to find them today.

Taking the metro to Albrook Mall

With “find shorts” as our mission, we took the Metro from Carmen station to Albrook. The Metro itself was exactly as good as it was on day one — clean, efficient, on time, air-conditioned. We’re converts. For getting around the city without luggage, it’s excellent.

Albrook Mall — the largest mall in Latin America

We filmed a walk-through of Albrook so you can see the scale and the crowds for yourself. This is what a busy Saturday looks like.

The size is genuinely impressive. Albrook Mall is the largest mall in Latin America and it earns the title. You’ll find most major U.S. brand names here, including some brands that have largely disappeared from American malls but apparently found a second life in Panama. Department stores with full clothing and housewares sections. Multiple electronics retailers selling computers, televisions, split A/C inverter units, washing machines, refrigerators, and stoves — useful context if you’re thinking about furnishing an apartment.

The food court is a full inventory of American fast food — virtually every chain you can think of, at prices nearly identical to what you’d pay in the U.S. We wanted something local, so we went to Don Pan — a Panamanian bakery chain — and split a large sandwich with two bottles of water for $6.00 total. That’s the move if you want a meal that’s both affordable and not a chain you could have eaten at home.

Brian at Don Pan. Large sandwich, two waters, $6.00. The right call.

One thing that struck us about the mall: it was packed. Not moderately busy — genuinely packed, in a way that American malls haven’t been since the 1980s. Part of this is almost certainly the air conditioning. In a city where the heat is a constant consideration, a massive, well-cooled shopping environment draws people in a way it simply doesn’t in a temperate climate. Whatever the reason, the energy was real. It felt like a place people actually wanted to be, not an aging retail space people visit out of habit.

The shorts — found, but not ideal

Mission accomplished. Not exactly what I’d have chosen given a wider selection — but breathable cotton, purchased in Panama, and dramatically better than overheating in long pants.

We found shorts, though the selection of cotton styles was limited. Most men in Panama wear long pants, which means the market for cotton shorts at Albrook is thin. I ended up with two pairs at $17.99 and $18.99 — not the style I’d have chosen with more options, but cotton, breathable, and mine. From that point forward, the rule was simple: shorts everywhere except government buildings. My core body temperature thanked me for the rest of the trip.

Dinner — Panama’s answer to food trucks

Panama City doesn’t really have food trucks the way American cities do. What it has instead is something we liked considerably better: throughout the city you’ll find clusters of four to eight independent food vendors operating out of spaces on a large lot — many of them built from converted shipping containers. Think of it as a permanent open-air food court, but entirely independent operators rather than chains, and with a rotating variety of local flavors.

The prices aren’t particularly cheap — most meals run $12 to $18 — but the experience of being able to try different things from different operators in one spot is genuinely appealing. We ate at PotatoUs: loaded fries, wings, and two bottles of water for $21.00 total.

Kent working through the wings at PotatoUs, and the menu so you can see the pricing yourself.

After dinner we went back to the hotel, turned the room back down to somewhere between “arctic” and “reasonable,” and watched television until we fell asleep. Day two was longer than it sounds. We were wiped out — but the good kind of wiped out, the kind that comes from actually being somewhere and doing things rather than reading about it from a sofa in St. Pete.

Day three coming up.

— Brian & Kent