Welcome to the end of the road. And not just any road: Yaviza (yaw-VEE-sa, pop. 3,177) marks the abrupt end of the Interamericana, which those in a less environmentally aware time once dreamed would link North and South America.

Fortunately, sanity has so far prevailed and the road has been indefinitely halted, which is at least delaying the ecological destruction that would inevitably follow. The famous Darién Gap begins here. Depending on how one measures it, the gap consists of about 100 kilometers of unbroken wilderness near the borders of Panama and Colombia, through which no road has ever been built.

Just paving the existing stretch of road between the Lago Bayano area and Yaviza, which might possibly be completed in the next few years, will likely bring dramatic change to this backwater.

Only a true optimist would be confident those changes will be for the better. On the other hand, it’s hard to imagine Yaviza getting much sketchier. It’s got the vaguely menacing, unpredictable vibe one expects from a frontier town in the middle of nowhere. It’s also hot and humid, the very essence of jungle rot.

When the first vehicles ever to make it to Yaviza emerged from the jungle in 1960, on a brutal expedition to study the feasibility of a road through the Darién Gap, some townspeople were so frightened by these mechanical beasts they jumped into the river. Not a whole lot has changed since then. Yaviza still looks like a backwater Panamanian town from 100 years ago.

Yaviza is certainly colorful, and it’s an interesting place to spend an hour or so on the way to somewhere better. That’s all the time needed to get the flavor of this tiny town. Those who need to spend the night in the area are better off in the nearby (and much friendlier) town of El Real, or in Metetí, back west along the Interamericana. That said, if you get stuck here there is one semi-okay place to stay.

Yaviza has a long history. A Spanish fort, Fuerte San Jerónimo de Yaviza, was built by the Spanish in the 18th century to prevent pirates from raiding the gold mines of Cana by river. What’s left of the fort’s crumbling walls can still be seen perched on the edge of the Río Chucunaque. Erosion is wearing away the riverbanks, and this haunting bit of history is slowly tumbling into the murky waters, with no attempt to preserve it. It’s the only real sight in town and is worth a quick visit. It’s a short walk toward the water from the Hotel Tres Americas. It’s easy to find, but if you have trouble ask anyone where the fuerte is.

The Chucunaque snakes around the edge of Yaviza, making for a natural boundary. There’s a boat landing, on the right at the entrance to town, where 45-foot-long piraguas (dugout canoes) loaded with plétanos (plantains) and ñames (yams) from riverside plantations unload their cargo onto trucks, which carry them to Panama City. These same boats are the main source of transportation for those venturing deeper into the Darién.

Watching the piraguas in “port” is just about the only other entertainment in town. The wiry stevedores who do the unloading are impressive guys. They carry huge, hand-woven baskets on their backs up a slippery incline to the trucks. There the baskets are weighed on a mechanical scale, and the weight is shouted to a supervisor sitting comfortably in the shade, who makes a note in his ledger. Each basketful weighs 60–90 kilos. It hurts just watching them.

Party days in Yaviza include the Festival de San Francisco Javier, the town’s patron saint, on March 12, and the Festival de la Virgen del Carmen, usually celebrated throughout the province and the country on July 16, though sometimes it comes earlier here.