Guna Yala is a place full of peculiarities. As an autonomous territory on Panama’s Caribbean coast, it plays by its own rules. What makes it special above all are its several hundred islands.

Some are a bit larger, others just a few square meters, dotted with a handful of palm trees.

This surreal region — which looks exactly the way we would describe a tropical backdrop of paradise beach islands — is home to the Kuna. Their families live in small huts on the patches of sand scattered across the sea. They make their living from fishing, tourism, and from beautiful Molas, elaborately crafted squares of fabric that make the women’s clothing colorful and unique.

After a quick clearing in at El Porvenir, we sail straight on to Nugnudub. It feels as if we’ve been pasted into a photo wallpaper. Blinding light, clumps of palms on the horizon, white sand beaches drifting past us, palm trees and the huts of the Kunas.

Behind every cluster of palms, forests of masts rise into the sky. It’s crowded, and we’re a little overwhelmed. We try to remember the last time we had to jostle for an anchorage. Between reef and sandy beach it is deep and tight. There are few cruising boats, but plenty of tourist boats ferrying backpackers from Panama City out to the San Blas Islands for a few days. We weave through the anchorage for a while until we find a sheltered spot with shallower water and a sandy bottom. Once again the lifting keel pays off, and we lie well anchored. That’s good, especially since there are regular downpours with correspondingly strong gusts, and we’d rather not drift into the reef.

Nestled in among the islands like this, we sleep so well that we decide to stay in Nugnudub until our family visitors reach us. After a long flight, a wild drive through the mountains, and a wet ride in a little motorboat taxi, the travellers from Germany can finally can fall into their bunk. Luckily, the day before, one of the islanders had come through the bay with fresh fruit and vegetables. Over the coming days we can now offer more than just pasta with tomato sauce.

The days in paradise pass in cozy calm. The weather does as it pleases, and so do we: little excursions to the surrounding islands, homemade coconut milk, snorkeling on the impressive reef. Lingering in the water, though, is to be enjoyed with caution, since crocodiles turn up in the area now and then. Apparently, however, it’s the islanders’ dogs that suffer from these encounters more often than people do.

After the lazy days, we sail to Gaigar on the mainland to hike to a waterfall with the local guide Idelfonso. The path leads through dense greenery along the creek, ever deeper into the mountains. The swim at the end is worth the effort, and on the way back a crocodile does finally show itself, confirming that these animals really do exist here.

We visit two more islands, Salardup and Chichime, before duty summons us to Colón and our visitors depart. The blackfin tuna caught off Jamaica serves as a farewell dinner, and the homemade coconut milk makes the perfect good piña coladas. But we miss the real party, though. Just before the anniversary of autonomy on February 26th, we weigh anchor and sail toward the Panama Canal.