Steve Sturgis(38) Steve Sturgis Log in to become a member of Steve Sturgis's Fan Club!
When I first met Matt Landau he was in on the roof at about 8 in the morning, in Panama’s historic district called Casco Viejo, secretly throwing balled-up pieces of bread at some friends in the plaza below. “You’ve gotta get the trajectory just right” he told me. “Otherwise the wind takes it and it might hit an innocent bystander.” He hurled the remainder of the bread over the wall, shook my hand and introduced himself.
I had wanted to come to Panama to face the real estate hype for myself. I’d read about it in magazines and newspapers and annoying advertisement emails, but it seemed the kind of thing you couldn’t take someone’s word for. The kind of thing one needed to experience on his own. Were the prices really as cheap as advertised? Could you get to a white sand beach in an hour? Was the infrastructure all it was cracked up to be? I emailed Landau off his website www.thepanamareport.com as he seemed to have a firm and honest grasp on the market and he willingly accepted my request. His articles had been featured in numerous publications and he agreed to show me around his city for a day.
I followed Landau down a cobblestone street, reportedly 300 year old, through plazas as picturesque as those spent during my summers in France. The New Jersey native was wearing low-cut Converse sneakers, ripped khaki shorts, and a worn-looking t-shirt that appeared to be previously owned multiple times. Through his relaxed and youthful appearance though, emerged the sort of intricate insight and outlook I’d come to expect from reading his work. With several brief instructions in fluent Spanish to an employee, we hopped in his muddied SUV and began our drive into the city I’d heard so much about.
From a far, downtown Panama City is rather impressive. On my flight in, it looked magnificent. However, as we drove past the numerous hollowed out buildings in mid-construction, I got a different vibe. The amount of cranes and incomplete buildings firmed up what I imagined; that much of the city’s real estate boom is based solely on speculation and not on reality or tangible product. Landau pointed out one project on the main strip which had failed due to, among other things, the inability of the developer to do a proper soil study. Shortcuts and less-than-honorable construction practices seem to be hazardously accepted here.
We arrived at Landau’s exercise facility which was situated on the seventh floor of a glitzy hotel/casino in an area called El Cangrejo. A snazzy-dressed valet boy parked the car while I admired the surroundings. The neighborhood came off as homey and residential; the location of a handful of new mid-range real estate projects, several of which overlook a quaint public park. In the elevator up, he sighed “bottled Gatorade is in the fridge and swimming trunks, if you need an extra pair, are in the drawer marked ML.” How he arranged it I don’t know, but my host had gained me access to the establishment’s gym for free weights, the pool for 30 laps, and spa area where steam rooms, saunas, and Jacuzzis are part of his daily routine. The hotel/casino called Veneto was far nicer than anything I was expecting in a developing country, with the kind of gaming floor and hotel rooms that would not be out of place in a popular American city.
At around 10AM we left the hotel and ate fresh bagels at the New York Bagel Café, a hip joint popular amongst the expats in Panama City. Menus were in English, Snapple was sold in the refrigerator, and The Doors were playing on the speakers. As the theme throughout my trip, this felt surprisingly like home, as we discussed Panama’s long-term obsession (and dependency) on northern culture. Over delicious bagels, Landau revealed to me some of the truths I had been suspicious about. In fact you could drive to a white sand beach in an hour and a half from the city. “It is called Santa Clara” he revealed. “Beers cost a dollar and hammocks on the sand cost three!” While transportation in Panama is pretty lame, the roads are far better than elsewhere in Central America.
We drove around the city a bit, through treacherous (and I mean treacherous) traffic towards the banking district where my host had a meeting to discuss a new marketing project with a well-known beach developer. The office was on the 28th floor of an impressive building which overlooked the entire Bay of Panama (a very smelly and unattractive body of water, especially when the tide is out). I was sweating from the horrid humidity, but supposedly you get used to it after about a year. While Landau’s associate appeared to be mid-fifties, black suit with several attractive, young secretaries, the two spoke as commonly and casually as mates in a bar. “What would you think of company-brand pot holders?” Landau Joked. “They sell real estate when you cook with ‘em!” sarcastically commenting on the reputation of some of Panama’s top real estate developers whose logos and ads are omniscient in the Republic. Corruption is known to be an issue here too, with nepotism and hidden agendas, in both the commercial and political venues, seemingly a part of everyday life.
We then meandered not a block down to the impressive Intercontinental Miramar Hotel where Landau met with a real estate consulting client who, along with his wife, appeared to be interested in buying an investment condo before they returned to New York. In true skeptic form, Landau discouraged the two from buying real estate in Panama City in about fifteen minutes and convinced them to wait at least six months or until their next visit. He pointed out that due to oversupply, their original goal of flipping (or selling a condo for profit just after purchase), was irrational. While such practices in Panama City appear to have been popular several years back, today it is not the case.
After the meeting, it became clear that Landau’s schedule—while organized and crammed—was about as flexible as a contortionist. He offered to cancel a luncheon meeting with the host of a local TV show and give me a city tour and of course I obliged. Panama City real estate, as he explained, appears to be close to bursting. Prices have risen too high, there’s not enough finished product on the market, and everything (barring size and shape) is essentially the same. It’s almost boring to an extent. Units are overpriced, agents are greedy, and the market is becoming oversaturated.
We ventured out to the scenic Causeway (several small islands lying right off cosmopolitan Panama City) where we had a glass of wine overlooking the skyline. The Causeway has several real estate projects which Landau hesitantly endorsed for their exclusivity and limited supply. One of them is the famed Nikki Beach which boasts an enterprise in some of the world’s fashion hotspots. Three royal-looking yachts sat docked just feet from where we lounged, one of them supposedly owned by oil tycoon and soccer emperor Zlatan Ibrahimovic.
The warm afternoon sun was upon us as Landau flipped through his iPhone, which he insisted I mention. “Make sure you tell them I got this new iPhone” he said. He made a couple of phone calls arranging our plans for the evening as I began to contemplate just how he’d come to be an expert on Panama real estate (not to mention at the helm of the only boutique hotel in the neighborhood) before he turned even 25.
“This whole thing took off far faster than we expected.” He pointed out that Panama, with such new real estate and tourism industries, offers relatively little competition and the opportunity to do larger, greater things in less time. “Being one of the first in an industry gives you the margin to make mistakes. It also gives you a tremendous hand-up on any future competition and when Casey suggested the idea, it seemed like a no-brainer.”
The Casey he refers to is Casey Halloran, another American entrepreneur and business partner who inspired Landau to first come down to Central America. And they were both right: the amount of well-written information about Panama on the web is a bit depressing and when I visited, theirs was the only luxury hotel in the historic district.
We stopped by the offices of a real estate agency Landau regularly consults for in a quiet suburb-like neighborhood of El Carmen. After some quick salutations, he ventured to the conference room with aforementioned Halloran. They keep their work brief and to the point. Concentrated sessions meant to be as productive and to-the-point as possible so they can spend the rest of their time enjoying life in the tropics.
This meeting, no longer than one hour, was about an internet marketing technique called SEO in which they discussed a proper monthly budget for online ads, throwing around terms that sounded like Latin to me. Together, the two were about 55 years old. Panama seems to offer a great opportunity-charged environment for young people who are passionate.
We returned to the hotel where a guest had just settled into one of his rooms and the day’s proceedings appeared to go off without a hitch. Landau was presented with a small report outlining the hotel’s numbers for the month, way below the target he admitted. While we had been away that day, Landau’s several information websites had brought in a small lump of cash via ad revenue and two people had purchased his Panama Real Estate Report eBook selling for $99 a pop. With such passive forms of income established, Landau confided that much of life in Panama does indeed feel like one big vacation. “Be sure to mention that I got this iPhone in that article” he said.
I met up with him again around 9 PM where we had a fashionably later dinner of sushi and imported Japanese beer. Two friends accompanied him: one college friend who happened to be in town and the other a striking Panamanian girl with impeccable English, dressed to the nines. The location was called Decapolis and was no less impressive than martini bars in Miami or LA. The place became filled with Panama’s beautiful people, hoards of tanned women with goddess-like physiques. Panama nightlife begins around midnight and lasts into the wee hours of the morning much like Europe, its trendy bars and buzzing discos quite impressive.
Our night ended around four AM with grilled steaks on the street. We hopped in a nice air-conditioned taxi and rode back to the hotel—a 15 minute trip that cost $1.50. While the day was excessively hot, the nighttime temperature in Panama is close to perfection. A light and breezy 75 degrees Fahrenheit.
Panama City is far more modern than other capitals in the region and it has a tremendous infrastructure to do business. However, things like sweltering heat, an unstable real estate market, and corruption seemed hard to discount. My host Matt Landau certainly made a nice life for himself though, one in which work and play strangely intermingle.
Steve Sturgis is a freelance journalist who has worked extensively throughout Indonesia. He and his wife Jennifer currently live in Granada, Nicaragua and enjoy mountain biking and strong coffee. His specialties are Bali news and Tempo Interactive
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