What Not to Do in Panama (A Responsible Travel Guide)

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Last Updated on May 12, 2026

I’ll be honest. Before going to Panama, I assumed my partner and I could see a lot of the country in ten days. On a map, it doesn’t look that big. It’s narrow. It’s easy to glance at it and think, we can cover a lot!

But once we started planning properly, I realized how misleading that first impression was.

Distances were longer than they looked. Transit days added up quickly. Weather could shift plans. And the more I learned about the country’s history, politics, and Indigenous regions, the more I understood that Panama is not a place to rush through.

That shift in mindset is why I wanted to write this guide. Instead of a list of what to see, I’m sharing what not to do in Panama, based on my own experience. 

Read on to learn about the Panamanian food you don’t want to miss, history that’s worth learning, the importance of Indigenous tourism in Panama, and more. 

Table of Contents
A small wooden house with red-trimmed windows stands beneath tall palm trees by the ocean, while a person in a bright red outfit walks across the grass toward the open doorway.
A smiling woman with braided hair and a large black backpack stands on a grassy mountain ridge, looking back at the camera, with misty hills and a winding trail behind her.
View of a modern city skyline across the water at golden hour, framed by leafy tree branches and the balconies of a white colonial-style building in the foreground.

1. Don’t Try to See the Whole Country in One Week

Panama looks small on a map, but because it is geographically narrow, distances between places can be long. 

Traffic in and out of the capital, Panama City, can be heavy. Roads into mountainous or coastal regions can be slow, and boats run on weather schedules.

It’s important to think about this when planning your itinerary. If you have a week, or even 10 days in Panama, it’s worth it to pick one region of the country. This enables you to take a slow travel approach to your trip.

Many of the Panama itineraries I’ve seen follow the same route: Panama City to Boquete to Bocas del Toro.

This route makes a lot of sense because it covers three very popular locations to visit within Panama, and it makes for a nice mix of the city, the mountains, and Caribbean coast. 

But the thing is, Panama City, Boquete, and Bocas del Toro are far apart. Getting between them takes time, and that time adds up quickly if you only have a week. Even with ten days, I felt that it would be rushed to try to get to these three locations, with so much time going toward getting between them. 

So instead, I built an itinerary that was more centralized to one region of Panama: the northeast and central parts of the country. We split our time between Panama City, El Valle de Anton, and Guna Yala.

Our itinerary was also a mix of the city, mountains, and beach time, and it was very easy-going because we never had to transit distances longer than 3 hours. It didn’t feel like very much of our trip was lost to transiting, and this allowed us to maximize our time in every place we visited. 

It also enabled us to skip taking a domestic flight to get ourselves from Panama City to Boquete, which is what many people choose to do, because it’s fast. With sustainable tourism in mind, we decided to stick to overland travel to minimize our carbon output on the trip. 

A smiling woman with braided hair and a large black backpack stands on a grassy mountain ridge, looking back at the camera, with misty hills and a winding trail behind her.
A woman with braided hair and a black backpack stands on a narrow, grassy mountain ridge, looking out toward mist-covered hills as a winding trail and small hikers stretch along the ridgeline ahead.

Hiking in El Valle de Anton, Panama

2. Don’t Skip Indigenous Tourism

Panama is home to seven Indigenous nations: the Guna, Emberá, Ngäbe-Buglé, Naso, Bribri, Wounaan, and Bokota. These Indigenous peoples have lived in the region for thousands of years. 

Like Indigenous nations in many parts of the world, Panama’s Indigenous peoples have faced colonization, land dispossession, cultural suppression, and political marginalization. Spanish colonizers arrived in the 1500s and took control of land and political systems, changing how Indigenous communities governed themselves.

And when Panama gained independence in 1903, government policies and development projects continued to limit the ability of Indigenous nations to make decisions about their own land and future.

But this is not the end of the story.

In Panama, several Indigenous nations organized, resisted, and negotiated for autonomy. The Guna Revolution of 1925, for example, led to the formal recognition of Guna Yala as an autonomous territory. 

Later, the Panamanian government officially recognized other Indigenous territories, called comarcas. These are legally protected regions where Indigenous communities govern themselves while still being part of the country of Panama.

Today, Panama’s Indigenous nations have political autonomy, distinct languages, and cultural systems that continue to shape Panama’s cultural landscape. 

A weathered yellow wooden boat labeled “Wichub Wala 2” rests on the sandy shore beside calm water, with a small coastal village of colorful houses and fishing boats visible across the inlet under a cloudy sky.
Wichub Wala, one of the Guna communities in Guna Yala

Supporting Indigenous tourism in Panama is a way to learn about this region’s original people, their culture, identity, and history. 

When you choose Indigenous led tours, stay in community run accommodations, or pay entry fees that go directly to local nations, you are participating in an economy that these communities have intentionally built on their own terms.

When we visited, we spent three days in Guna Yala, sometimes still referred to by its colonial name, San Blas. The region is completely governed by the Guna people. Entry fees, boat transfers, and accommodations are controlled locally.

Our days were split between visiting Guna communities and spending time on small islands where we swam and snorkeled. We learned about the Guna Revolution of 1925, about how molas (traditional Guna textiles) are made, about the political structure that allows the territory to remain autonomous.

If you’d like to participate in Indigenous tourism while in Panama, do it thoughtfully:

  • Choose operators that are Indigenous-run or work directly with communities
  • Listen more than you speak
  • Ask questions respectfully
  • Don’t treat people as photo opps
Tall palm trees bend in the wind along a quiet sandy beach, where two people walk near small fishing boats pulled up on shore under a cloudy sky.
A close-up of a woman wearing colorful traditional clothing and stacked beaded bracelets, resting her arms on a display of bright patterned textiles hanging behind her.

The people of Guna Yala

3. Don’t Misname Places

Using the right names of places matters in Panama. It’s Guna Yala, not “Kuna Yala.” It’s also not just “San Blas.”

Guna Yala is the name chosen by the Guna people themselves. Using the correct name acknowledges their autonomy and identity, and it acknowledges that Panama is not culturally monolithic.

Colonial names persist in marketing because they’re familiar to outsiders. But when a community has renamed its own territory, it’s worth respecting that choice.

This applies beyond Guna Yala, too. For example, the Teribe River in the Naso region is called Tjer Di in the Naso language. The name comes from two words: Di, meaning water, and Tjer, meaning Great Mother or Great Grandmother.

As you travel Panama, take notice of when a place has both an Indigenous and colonial name. Ask about it, and acknowledge that name. This is a small detail, but it changes how you understand the context of where you are.

A row of small, brightly painted cabins with red roofs sits along a sandy shoreline lined with tall palm trees, with the ocean visible just beyond the beach.
Bungalows on one of the islands of Guna Yala

4. Don’t Default to International Chains

Panama has international hotel brands, global restaurant chains, and malls that feel familiar to the malls you have at home in Canada or the USA. 

Sometimes a chain hotel or a meal at McDonald’s makes logistical sense. But it’s important to understand what happens to your money when you choose those options.

A concept called tourism leakage refers to the portion of tourism revenue that leaves the country rather than staying in the local economy. 

When you book a room at a large international hotel chain, a significant share of that profit often goes back to the company’s headquarters abroad. The same is true for global restaurant brands and retail chains. Local staff are employed, yes, but ownership and higher level profits often sit elsewhere.

In a country like Panama, where wealth is unevenly distributed, that flow of money matters. This is where small, independent hotels make a difference.

When you stay at a locally owned guesthouse or boutique hotel, the owners are more likely to live in the community. They hire locally. They pay local suppliers. Their profit is more likely to circulate within Panama rather than being transferred overseas.

This doesn’t mean you have to avoid every international brand. It just means being aware of how spending patterns shape who benefits from tourism.

If you can, choose small and independent. Your stay will likely feel more personal, and your money is more likely to stay where you are actually traveling.

A sunny street scene in Panama City with colorful historic buildings and wrought-iron balconies lining the road, pedestrians walking along the brick-paved street, and tall trees casting shade over the sidewalk.
Panama City

5. Don’t Ignore Panama’s Wealth Gap

Panama is one of the wealthiest countries in Central America. The city is full of skyscrapers, and the country is home to a major shipping canal, and a strong banking sector.

But Panama also has high income inequality.

In Panama City, you can walk from luxury high rises to neighborhoods with limited infrastructure in a short amount of time. Wealth and hardship exist side by side. 

Tourism marketing often highlights the gentrified, wealthy parts of the city. Rooftop bars, restored colonial buildings, glossy shopping centers. Those places are real, but they are not the whole picture.

Being aware of the wealth gap changes how you understand the country, and how you spend your money.

Choosing locally owned restaurants, staying in small hotels, hiring local guides, and buying directly from artisans are small ways to direct tourism income more intentionally in a country where it is unevenly distributed.

It also encourages you to look beyond the most gentrified, curated neighborhoods. Places like Casco Viejo are beautiful and worth visiting, but they sit within a broader urban landscape shaped by displacement, redevelopment, and long-standing inequality.

You do not need to solve these systems as a visitor, but you can notice them, and let that awareness guide your choices. 

View over red-tiled rooftops in Panama City’s historic district, with a white cathedral bell tower rising above the buildings and the ocean visible in the background.
Casco Viejo

6. Don’t Overlook Panama’s Cultural Diversity

Panama’s culture did not develop in isolation. It was shaped by migration, trade, and labor over centuries.

Like I mentioned earlier in this guide, Indigenous nations were in Panama long before colonial borders existed. Today, groups like the Guna, Embera, Ngabe-Bugle, Naso, Bribri, Wounaan, and Bokota continue to shape the country’s identity through language, governance, food, art, and land stewardship.

Spanish colonization introduced European systems of government and religion, and over time, a mestizo population emerged, blending Indigenous and European ancestry.

In the 1800s, when the transcontinental railroad was built across the country, workers arrived from the Caribbean, particularly from Jamaica and Barbados. Many stayed. 

Later, during the construction of the Panama Canal in the early 1900s, thousands more Afro-Caribbean laborers came to work under harsh and segregated conditions. They were essential to the project, yet were paid less and lived separately from white American workers.

Their descendants are an important part of Panama’s cultural and political life today. Afro-Panamanian influence can be seen in music, food, language, sports, and activism.

A painted mural on a concrete wall in Panama City’s El Chorrillo neighborhood shows three black-and-white portraits of men wearing caps, alongside the text “Fundación Deportiva y Cultural de los Veteranos de Plaza Amador,” under a covered outdoor structure.
A mural paying homage to Panamanian athletes in El Chorrillo

Chinese migration began in the mid 19th century, tied again to railroad construction and trade. Chinese Panamanians now run businesses across the country and are deeply woven into daily life. 

You will notice Chinese-owned grocery stores and restaurants in nearly every town. We popped into many of these grocers and they always had a pot of fresh siu mai (Chinese dumplings) on the counter, which looked so tasty!

There are also Lebanese and other Middle Eastern families whose migration was linked to commerce and trade routes. European migration followed various waves of opportunity tied to the Canal and international business.

All of these histories overlap because Panama has long been a crossroads. People came for work, for trade, for opportunity, and many stayed.

When you travel through the country, pay attention to whose stories are highlighted in museums and marketing, and whose are harder to see. Notice which neighborhoods receive investment and which feel overlooked.

Diversity in Panama is the result of layered histories, migration, inequality, and resilience. Seeing that complexity helps you understand the country as it actually is.

A busy pedestrian shopping street in Panama City lined with colorful storefronts and market stalls, where people walk beneath umbrellas and a vendor displays fresh coconuts under a bright green, yellow, and red canopy.
Avenida Central, a shopping street in Panama City

7. Don’t Romanticize Casco Viejo Without Context

Casco Viejo is a beautiful neighborhood in Panama City that many tourists gravitate to. The neighborhood dates back to 1673, when it was where settlers who were attacked by pirates would escape to. 

In 1997, Casco Viejo was declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, recognizing the Spanish and French colonial architecture. At that time, Casco Viejo was not the polished district visitors see today.

For decades leading up to its UNESCO designation, it was a low income neighborhood. Many of the historic buildings were deteriorating, and families with fewer resources lived in subdivided colonial homes. Infrastructure was limited, and there was minimal investment in the neighborhood.

After UNESCO recognition, restoration efforts were started. Through government-backed funding and private investment, buildings were renovated. Boutique hotels, restaurants, and rooftop bars began to open. Property values increased, and tourism followed.

This transformation brought jobs, infrastructure improvements, and international attention. But it also brought rising rents and displacement. Many long-term residents were pushed out as redevelopment moved forward.

A narrow street in Panama City’s historic district lined with white colonial-style buildings and wrought-iron balconies, palm trees along the sidewalk, and people walking in the warm evening light.
View down a cobblestone street in Panama City with pastel-colored historic buildings, parked cars, and a hill in the background flying the Panamanian flag.

Casco Viejo

Understanding this history gives you a different perspective of the neighborhood. It doesn’t mean visiting, staying in, or enjoying Casco Viejo is wrong, but it does mean it’s important to see Panama City beyond this neighborhood. 

For example, just next door to Casco Viejo is El Chorrillo, a neighborhood deeply shaped by the 1989 U.S. invasion and decades of disinvestment. It’s home to mostly Afro-Panamanians, and many of the people living in El Chorrillo experience discrimination and socio-economic hardship. 

We took a walking tour that focused specifically on how El Chorrillo has been impacted by history and gentrification. We learned about Operation Just Cause, about displacement, and about how redevelopment in Casco Viejo has pushed housing prices upward while long-term residents navigate limited resources.

Seeing both areas together changed how I understood the city. Casco Viejo’s restoration did not happen in isolation. It is connected to policy, investment, and who benefits from redevelopment.

A narrow street in Panama City lined with parked cars and modern apartment balconies on one side, and a long concrete wall covered in colorful murals and portraits on the other.
A street leading from Casco Viejo into El Chorrillo

8. Don’t Only Eat International Food

Something that makes Panama City special is how international it is. In this city, you can eat everything, from sushi, to Lebanese food, to Italian pasta, and high-end fusion cuisine.

While it’s fun to try different types of cuisines, don’t skip traditional Panamanian dishes.

Sancocho is a Panamanian favourite. It’s a chicken soup with cilantro and root vegetables. Even on a hot day, I loved having a bowl of this soup along with a side of rice. 

Another favourite of mine was carimanolas. These are yuca fritters stuffed with meat or cheese.

And of course, with so much ocean coastline, Panama is all about the seafood. Fresh ceviche, often served in small cups at the seafood market, is a must-try, as well as freshly-caught fish. 

Food also always tells you something about geography and migration. You’ll notice in Panama the influence of Afro-Caribbean cooking, of Spanish cuisine, and you’ll see that Indigenous ingredients show up in dishes, too.

A glass dish filled with fresh seafood ceviche—chunks of fish and pieces of octopus mixed with diced onions—served on a blue table at a casual outdoor eatery.
A serving of fresh ceviche in Panama City’s fish market

9. Don’t Ignore History

Panama makes more sense once you understand how often the rest of the world has fought over it.

This narrow strip of land has always been valuable. Long before tourism, long before the Panama Canal, Spanish colonizers used Panama as a transit route. 

Silver and goods from South America were carried across the isthmus and shipped out to Europe. Panama was less a final stop and more a passageway, but that role shaped its economy from the beginning.

In the 1800s, a railroad was built across the country to connect the Atlantic and Pacific. Workers were brought in from the Caribbean, especially from Jamaica and Barbados. Many faced harsh conditions, disease, and low pay, but their labor made the project possible.

Then came the canal.

A wide view of the Miraflores Panama Canal locks with parallel waterways, rail tracks, and service buildings stretching into the distance under a cloudy sky.
The Miraflores Panama Canal lock system

The French attempted to build the Panama Canal first in the late 1800s and failed, largely because of disease and financial collapse. In the early 1900s, the United States took over the project after Panama separated from Colombia in 1903. The Panama Canal officially opened in 1914 and permanently changed global trade.

But the Canal also created the U.S. Canal Zone, a strip of land inside Panama that was controlled by the United States for decades. It operated almost like a separate country, with its own schools, housing, and laws. Panamanians had limited access to it, and there were tensions over sovereignty for years.

Afro-Caribbean workers who helped build the Canal were paid less than white American workers and lived in segregated communities. Their labor was essential, but their stories are often minimized in simplified narratives that focus only on engineering success.

In 1989, the United States invaded Panama in an operation known as Operation Just Cause, aiming to remove military leader Manuel Noriega from power. The invasion caused significant damage, particularly in neighborhoods like El Chorrillo, and left lasting social and emotional impacts.

You don’t need to memorize these histories before your trip, but knowing the basics of how politics, colonization, and migration has shaped Panama enables you to have more context during your visit. 

The Miraflores Locks building at the Panama Canal, a white structure with a red roof overlooking the lock chambers and water below, surrounded by walkways and canal infrastructure.
The Miraflores locks

10. Don’t Underestimate the Weather

“Peak season” in Panama is usually quoted as running from December through April. This is considered the dry season, and it’s when many people plan their beach trips and island visits.

But weather patterns in Panama (and around the whole world) are not as predictable as they once were.

We visited during what’s often described as one of the best months to be in Panama, February. Even so, we experienced a strong windstorm that disrupted our plans. We had intended to go to Guna Yala, but couldn’t because it was too dangerous to travel by boat.

The unpredictable weather did change our trip, but it didn’t ruin it. We adjusted, reshuffling our itinerary to visit El Valle de Anton (where we got to do the beautiful La India Dormida Hike!), and visit Guna Yala once the windstorm had passed.

This experience was a reminder that even during peak season, you need to build flexibility into your itinerary. 

The takeaway here is to build flexibility into your plans. While you might end up experiencing beautiful sunshine throughout your whole time in Panama, there’s always a chance that rain or wind will show up, too. 

A quiet tropical beach lined with palm trees and low greenery, where a small boat floats in shallow turquoise water near a simple dock under a hazy sky.
El Porvenir, and island in Guna Yala

Visiting Panama as a Thoughtful Tourist

I wanted to share these Panama travel tips because I genuinely believe that being an informed tourist is one of the simplest ways to be a more responsible tourist.

You don’t need to become an expert before you go. But arriving in Panama with some basic understanding of its history and politics changes how you see what’s in front of you.

It means recognizing that the Canal is not just a photo opportunity or an engineering success story. It is also tied to U.S. involvement, labor struggles, and questions of sovereignty. It means enjoying the beauty of Casco Viejo while also knowing that its restoration came with rising costs and displacement for some longtime residents.

And it means understanding that Indigenous territories like Guna Yala are self governed regions with their own political systems. They are not simply beach escapes.

None of this takes away from the joy of traveling in Panama. If anything, it adds depth, gives your experiences context, and helps ensure that your trip supports the people who actually live there. 

Want to learn more about responsible travel? Here are some more quick tips: