California Dreamin' - Sailing at Dana Point

Sailing!
Photo by Chris.
All rights reserved.

Morning came much too early, as always, but we'd had a great night's sleep at Moore Manor. Bear with me as I mention that the guest room was all decked out like the best hotels and decorated beautifully: comfortable bed, soft sheets, cushy pillows, quilts handmade lovingly by Reggie, restful colors, and a flat screen television! I made a few mental notes about our guest room at home...

At Harbor House Cafe, Dana Point
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Reggie had to go to the office, but she'd left the coffee all brewed and ready for us as we waited briefly for Dave to return from his top-secret work at the airport. We were going to go sailing!

But, first, we went out to enjoy a plentiful and delicious breakfast at the Harbor House Cafe on the PCH (Pacific Coast Highway) in Dana Point. The young waitress was sassy and gave the guys a hard time. She got our day off to a good start and totally deserved the large tip (For those of you who are not familiar with American restaurants, gratuities are generally not included. The people on the wait staff depend on those gratuities, though, as their wages are very low. Please be especially generous [20%] when the service has been excellent). The decor of classic movie posters and photos gave us lots to look at, admire, and discuss as we ate. A picture is indeed worth 1,000 words. It also can bring back memories and emotions. Youthful ones, in this case. We were in vacation mode.

Marina at Dana Point Harbor
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

I don't have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, but the marina at Dana Point Harbor seemed awfully big to me. It's a good thing Dave knew where his sailboat was. There was a variety of shops and restaurants to explore around the marina, and people were pushing baby strollers and walking their dogs and enjoying the good life.

Captain Dave
Photo by Chris.
All rights reserved.

Dave, being the good and conscientious skipper that he is, gave us "the safety talk" before we left the harbor. Always hang onto something stationery. Watch the boom so you don't hit your head or get knocked overboard. When walking on the sides to go to the bow and the boat is leaning one way or the other, maneuver in such a way as to fall onto the boat rather than overboard if you should slip. No problem there. I had no desire to fall overboard!

The view off the stern
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

It was a spectacular day offshore, with bright sunshine and just the right amount of wind. There were other boats out around us, but not very many and not very close. It was a weekday, after all.

An excursion charter was nearby, indicating the possible presence of marine mammals. It was whale-watching season, so there was a possibility of seeing some.

Playful dolphin off Dana Point
Photo by Chris.
All rights reserved.

Suddenly, a pod of dolphins was frolicking all around us. I was excited as I made my way to the bow (without slipping or falling overboard) to take photos. Such beautiful, playful, smart creatures! They swam along next to us and ahead of us for a long time, crossing back and forth, diving, jumping. What thrilling fun! I was mesmerized.

Too soon, it was time to head back to shore. Being out on the water had been so peaceful and relaxing. There's just something about the fresh, crisp, salt air, and the sound of the ocean rushing by as the boat slices through it, and the sails snapping in the wind, and the creaking of the boat, and the otherwise utter quiet. Did we really have to stop? But the sun was beginning to dip in the west, and it takes time after you're back at the marina, too, to stow everything and secure the boat.

Bird in flight...extra points,
right, Bob?
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Granted, I've only been sailing a handful of times. But I completely understand why people want to live on their sailboats, going from port to port and country to country, experiencing a wonderful variety of cultures and food and people. It would be an adventurous way to live.

Thank you, Dave, for allowing us to share the adventure with you, just for a little while. Don't be surprised if we come back for more!

Dana Point
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Harry thought this one would be nice. It was almost affordable.
Not.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

California Dreamin' - Driving to the OC

Lush vegetation in the farmlands of the San Joaquin valley.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Harry and I have been threatening to visit our friend Dave and his lovely wife, Reggie, in Southern California for years. We decided to just do it!

We left early, early in the morning from our Bay Area home in order to avoid the rush hour traffic, which we mostly did. Breakfast was "on the run" at McDonald's. I know.

San Joaquin Valley, California
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We didn't realize how many years it had been since we'd driven down the I-5 corridor southward. It used to be a barren wasteland, but now there are orchards and fields and things to look at. So, the drive wasn't nearly as tedious as we remembered.

As it turned out, this price was not
the highest we would pay.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Gas was pretty expensive, though. We figured it was the timing of our trip, because it had gone up about 50 cents a gallon since the previous week.

"Dust bowl" country.
Photo by Chris.
All rights reserved.

Around Kettleman City, we started seeing signs that said something like, "This dust bowl brought to you by Congress." (Click on the link to see a news video about the situation.) Apparently, the farmers are unable to access the water they need for the crops, to the land is lying fallow. When the wind blows, the dust billows, causing low visibility and major pile-ups on the road. Happily, this particular day was spectacular. But I felt sad for the farmers who have lost their crops and their livelihood. It isn't like you can just go get a job somewhere. Farming is risky business.

Yes, please!
Photo by Chris.

Speaking of Kettleman City, the last time we drove by there on our way back up from Los Angeles, there was a bright flash of blue light in the sky, and then traffic absolutely stopped for hours. A small plane had hit the electric lines and crashed. Sometimes when you're driving by a place, memories come rushing back. They aren't always pleasant ones.

We gassed up, had lunch at In-N-Out Burger, and headed on down. There was very little traffic. It was a lovely and relaxing drive. So far.

Citrus groves with snowy mountain backdrops.
Much prettier in person!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Suddenly, we were at the Grapevine and heading over the pass to the Los Angeles basin. It always surprises me that, this time of year, there's snow in the mountains down there. I think of the area as balmy and warm, full of sunshine and beaches and surfers.

You might be wondering why most of the pictures I'm posting are blurry in the front and just fine in the distance. They're being taken from a vehicle that's moving at freeway speeds. Harry offered to stop, but if you stop every time you want to take a picture during a 450-or-so-mile drive, you'll never get to your destination.

Six Flags Magic Mountain. I used to love these rides!
Photo by Chris. 

As we drove by Six Flags Magic Mountain (amusement park), I thought to myself, "Hooray! We're almost there!" But, of course, we weren't. I always think that when I get to Magic Mountain, and then it's always at least another hour to where I'm actually going. We hadn't yet hit Los Angeles traffic, and we thought we would be lucky and miss it entirely. There we go, thinking again! But it only bottlenecked for a short distance, and then traffic cleared again. It was a good day to drive to LA.

When we arrived at Dave and Reggie's absolutely gorgeous home in Orange County in the middle of the afternoon, Dave was already busy cooking the most delicious ribs for us, and we sat at the bar under the pergola in the back yard, catching up and talking about old times. Friendship is a great gift.

Anniversary Cruise! Puerto Rico, Day 4

Seven Seas Beach, Fajardo PR. It was low tide.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Suddenly, it was our last full day in Puerto Rico. Vacations go by much too quickly! So, we packed up our beach gear and headed to Seven Seas Beach in Fajardo. We lived in Fajardo for a couple of years and never went to Seven Seas. Who knew?! It's a beautiful beach, but there was quite a bit of trash in the water. The wind must have blown it in on a breezy day? This particular day, however, was absolutely perfect.

Parking was easy, and there weren't very many people on the beach. Nice! We swam all the way out to the buoys [“Caution! Do not swim past this point!”] in search of tropical fishies, and we did find a big starfish and some other sea life swimming here and there. But mostly we found sea grass. Sand-covered sea grass. Where was the fabulous reef action we had read about, we wondered? And then we discovered it. Right next to the sandy beach in the shallow water! We laughed about that, for sure. We thought it would be farther offshore.

Seven Seas Beach, Fajardo PR
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

There was an area next to the boat launch [hence the caution against swimming past the buoys] that was a teeming fish nursery, a bonanza of baby fishies of all colors and formations and conformations. We moved down the beach and saw larger fish darting here and there, and all of us saw a barracuda...except me, but that's okay! I was too busy looking at the pretty colors, I guess. The water clarity was not great. Bob said he would rate it as two out of ten. Could have just been that day, though, as so many things (including the weather) can affect water clarity. I didn't know the difference and was only barely able to imagine the fabulous clarity he described in other places.

Bob and I took a walk down the beach to find some seashells for his friends who especially appreciate such souvenirs. We found some nice ones for them, and I hope they liked them.

Fishing village - Las Croabas PR
Photo by chris. All rights reserved.

The afternoon was winding down. We went for one more snorkel, did our best to get the sand off with the trickle of water at the showers outside the restrooms, and got ready to go on a kayak trip to Laguna Grande, the large bioluminescent lagoon. Who knew all this great stuff was in Fajardo? I wonder what else we missed while living here? I guess we were too busy working. There are probably a lot of things back home that I haven't seen and done, too. Take advantage of sights and activities right where you are.

A smiling, helpful, friendly crew member getting ready to
unload the kayaks. Pure Adventure rocks!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We had a snack at the docks in Las Croabas and had the great good luck of having been able to follow the kayak truck when we left the beach parking lot. So, we had no trouble at all finding our tour company, Pure Adventure. I'd never kayaked before, so it was an adventure going through the mangrove forest at dusk, especially while battling the current. We went sideways and backwards and all kinds of crazy things! The lagoon was so much fun. You dip your oar in, and it lights up with the organisms in the water. The resulting cascade of water when you lift your oar out of the water glows and lights up. You put your hand in the water and swish it around, and the water lights up. Apparently, Laguna Grande is even better than Mosquito Bay, Vieques. But I haven't been there (yet) and can't say for sure.

And it was time to go back through the mangrove forest. This time, though, it was pitch dark. We tried to follow the tiny, flashing light of the kayak ahead of us. Happily, the current was with us instead of against us this time, but the lead kayak kept going sideways into the mangroves. It was exciting and a little nerve making. I imagined snakes hanging down from the trees, their heads swaying this way and that, waiting to drop onto us in the kayak. I wasn't too sure we were going to make it back to the docks. Harry's seat had decided to refuse to keep him in a sitting position, so we were doing our very best to keep our kayak headed in the right direction at an even pace. Remember: It was pitch dark. We couldn't see anything but the very small beacon on the next kayak. Oh, wow! On, wow! What an adventure! But we made it. We only hit one object, an anchored rowboat. We didn't see it at all until we bumped into it, as we were blinded by the bright blue light onshore. Once your eyes have adapted to the darkness, even dim lights are blinding.

And then it was back to the hotel to pack, too soon. Just like the cruise, which takes a couple of days to settle into and then is suddenly over, these few days on the Isle of Enchantment have flown by. Just when you figure out where things are and the way things are done, and you're really enjoying yourself, it's time to go home.

On the other hand, we never found ourselves with more time than activities to fill it. Better to leave wanting more than to wish you could leave early. Which, come to think of it, is highly unlikely.

And just like that, it's over.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Note: Driving in Puerto Rico is not for sissies or people who get excited and upset. Thanks for driving, Bob. I think I would still be sitting at an intersection somewhere, waiting for folks to stop running red lights. Yikes!

Another note: When going to public beaches and such places here where the restrooms are likely to be questionable, you might want to consider having some toilet paper, wipes, and hand sanitizer with you instead of back at the hotel. And here, I think of my friend Cathy with great fondness. Cathy would have been totally prepared. She is Wonder Woman. She thinks of everything. I have a great respect for that. I do well to just think of the next thing. Unfortunately, I generally think of the next thing while I'm on my way to it rather than ahead of time. We are all gifted in different ways.

Anniversary Cruise! Puerto Rico, Day 3

If you're looking for a place to stay that's convenient, the Hampton Inn (where we stayed) in Isla Verde (Carolina) is more than adequate. It offers all the amenities we need. Clean, comfortable, spacious rooms. A breakfast that is plentiful and delicious. An inviting swimming pool with a swim-up bar and outdoor grill restaurant, with plenty of thickly padded lounge chairs if you're going to be swimming and sunning yourself. An exercise room. A laundry room. An office room. And probably lots of other meeting rooms and things we didn't care about at all. The folks at the front desk were helpful, knowledgeable, and friendly.

It's close to the airport but well sound-proofed, and it's just a couple of short blocks from the beautiful Isla Verde Beach. Isla Verde used to be kind of a “second cousin” to the Condado Strip. Nice and all, but one step removed. Funny how things change and evolve over the years. As mentioned in the Day 2 post, the neighborhood includes the El San Juan Hotel. It also includes the Ritz Carlton and a number of other low-rent places.

The lagoon from high up!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

So, in the morning, Bob and Karen arrived to pick us up and suggested that we spend the day at their place, the Conrad Condado. There's a lagoon there for snorkeling practice, a salt water pool, a swim-up bar, and all the goodies. It was an offer we couldn't refuse!

The Conrad was decorated very retro tropical. It felt like Havana in a weird sort of way. Well, not that I've been to Havana [sure would like to, though], but it was how I imagined it to be. The furniture was retro ultra-modern, '60s or '70s looking, and so were the lamps. The lobby offered aqua and red and blue lighting accents. Bob and Karen said they thought it was kind of over the top kitschy, but I thought it was awesome. Maybe because it had a back in time quality and reminded me of the décor way back when, but it was new. It made me feel happy and lighthearted and relaxed. Perhaps that's what the hotel had in mind.

The pink building said "Miami." Fitting, no?

Bob and Karen's room was on the 10^th floor and afforded an admirable panoramic view of the city. We all changed into our bathing suits and headed down to the poolside area, where the view was of the Old San Juan walls on the other side of the lagoon. Waves were crashing against the barrier rocks. It was gorgeous.

We slathered on the SPF55. Whatever you do, don't forget the sunblock. You don't want to ruin your vacation with a painful burn. We donned our snorkel gear and headed to the beach by the lagoon, where Bob gave me some snorkeling tips. It would be the first time I had snorkeled in almost 40 years, the last time having also been in Puerto Rico. It seemed poetic, somehow.

The waves outside the lagoon crashed on the rocks.
Awesome.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

I ventured into the water accompanied by Karen, and Bob went out with Harry. Was I going to gag on the mouthpiece? Would my mask leak? Would I move my fins like crazy, yet go backwards? Would I panic and sink to the depths of the lagoon (Okay, it wasn't that deep. Still...)? These were actual, real concerns that tried to interfere with my exhilaration at finally doing this again. No worries! Karen said I took to it like a duck to water, like I'd been doing it for years. I'm not the world's strongest swimmer, but I didn't even need to use the floatie I had borrowed. It was no problem at all, and I loved it. The water wasn't very clear (Bob talked of Rarotonga. We talked of Bonaire...), but there were enough beautiful, colorful fish and interesting sea creatures to keep me out there exploring. Apparently, there was an unfortunate oil spill in the '90s that knocked out the reef (very sad indeed), and they have put little “condos” out there for the fish to hide in. It's kind of cute. We saw blue fish with yellow fins, yellow and black striped fish, little neon looking fish, silver striped long fish, disc-shaped ones, etc. It was tons of fun. The sun kissed me a little in spite of the sunblock, but not so much as to cause pain.

So, we snorkeled around noon, took a break, gleefully slid down the water slide like a bunch of kids, had a pina colada, had a rest on the beach in the shade, then went snorkeling for another hour and a half or two. Nobody could get me out of the water. I was in love.

We showered and washed the sand out of our hair, and then we went walking down Condado in search of some FOOD. It's amazing how hungry I was. I could have eaten a horse.

On our way to dinner, Harry decided he'd like to try a ride
on this nifty thing. But it was a police vehicle. Oops!
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We decided on Bueno Ayres, an Argentinian steak house. Harry's steak and my chicken were both delicious, plentiful, and perfectly prepared, with the edge going to Harry's steak. But only because steak trumps chicken! We also had fried sweet plantain (surprise!), which was yummy. The waiter said it was the second-best in all of Puerto Rico. We thought that was kind of a weird thing for him to say, and then we realized that, of course, his own mother makes the first-best! For dessert, we enjoyed a light and flavorful cheese flan. The sangria was outstanding, and the coffee was absolutely spectacular.

It was a great day for all of us. We felt as if we were vacationing. Because we were!

Anniversary Cruise! Puerto Rico, Day 2

After a more than adequate and actually pretty delicious and plentiful breakfast at “our” place, we were collected by Bob and Karen (Thank you, Bob, for doing the driving. And thank you, too, Karen, for being you. Always gracious. Always fabulous). We loaded up the snorkel gear “just in case” and headed eastward on PR-3. [Eastward, ho!... Never mind.]

Bromeliads. Lots of them.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Our first stop was El Yunque, the rain forest. What a tropical treat! Birds. Waterfalls. Vines Tarzan could use for locomoting. Bromeliads galore. Rain. Well, of course there was rain. They don't call it a rain forest for nothing.

The weather was surprisingly cool and comfortable. By cool, I don't mean as in San Francisco. I mean cool for the tropics, which is an entirely different thing. You won't need a sweatshirt. And the humidity felt okay, too. But perhaps I was comparing it to Dominica and Grenada [see previous posts].

Naturally, it's generally cooler at El Yunque, but it was also cooler than I expected in Fajardo, where we used to live when my husband was stationed at Roosevelt Roads. We drove up one street and down the other looking for our former abode. We did find the subdivision (Baralt), and we found the right street. The exact house (there were actually two of them), we can't be sure of, but it'll do The streets weren't signed very well, and the houses weren't necessarily numbered. So, we went by feel. Man! The homes were so close together, they must have built houses between the houses or something. And the neighborhood was a little sketchy. Perhaps it wasn't the greatest back then, either, but I guess we didn't notice. Memory is a funny thing. Strange how “off” it can be. It was a bittersweet experience.

A couple of the pools at the El Con.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Next, we drove up to the El Conquistador. It was considered luxurious when I worked there many years ago, but that was nothing compared to what I saw today. Wow! Huge. Spread out. The tennis courts, golf courses, and swimming pools had multiplied. If you stayed at the El Con on your vacation, you would not have to venture off the grounds. But you really should.

Oh, the swankness.
Photo by Chris.
All rights reserved.

I took a deep breath and made my way to the reception desk, where I was greeted very cordially by a businesslike yet friendly young lady. That gave me the courage to explain our situation. That is, I was a former employee, many years ago. My husband and I had come from California to revisit our old haunts, and would they give us a tour? Well, why not? You can't blame a girl for trying. I held my breath. Almost instantly, a young man appeared. Our private tour guide was accommodating and solicitous and proud to show us around. What a treat! I felt like a Very Important Person. [Back in the day, when a VIP arrived at the hotel, we would deliver flowers, a fruit basket, and/or a bottle of Piper-Heidsieck to the room. Unlike the bell boys, the “girls” from the Activity Desk who delivered those never seemed to get tips, even though we made the same minimum wage as the guys. Yes, it was irritating. But we did get to go to the welcome party, the coconut bash, and the farewell party. So, all was not lost.]

The view from the restaurant.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

We rode the funicular to the bottom level (from the top of the cliff to the water's edge, by the marina, water park, and classy condos), where we had lunch at the dockside restaurant/bar. Delicious, and not outrageous at all. We were pleasantly surprised. The weather was beautiful, and we relaxed and enjoyed the gorgeous, restful environment.

Old haunts.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

After lunch, we made our way back up to the main hotel parking lot, found our car, and drove out to Ceiba in search of NAS Roosevelt Roads. It wasn't hard to find. We'd been told the base was closed down and privatized, but that is apparently not entirely so. The guard would not let us pass through, because neither Harry nor Bob had identification indicating they were retired military (That is to say, retired from a life in military service, rather than having simply served in the military for four years). I couldn't believe it, and Harry was so disappointed. I may have cried. Harry may have seemed despondent. We explained how far we had come, how many years it had been, and how we had driven all the way to this part of the island for the express purpose of showing my husband's brother the areas where he had worked when stationed here during the Vietnam War. It was our anniversary trip. Please? And the guard did relent, but only barely. He looked at his watch and told us it would take exactly ½ hour to get to the marina and back if we didn't veer off the main road. He told us we had better be back in exactly ½ hour, or the military police would come looking for us. Military police? On a closed base?

We drove through the “downtown” area where the buildings showed signs of having seen activity long, long ago. It was kind of sad, really, and I remembered the hustle and bustle of the old days, when we were young and came on base to go to the movies (25 cents) or get a Denver Omelette at the diner. We were not allowed near the airfield, so we couldn't see the building where Harry had worked. Perhaps it is in the process of being converted to private use. That would explain the concrete roadblocks, right?

We were very, very good and didn't stray from permissible areas. Not even for a moment. We were grateful to have been allowed through the gate, and we weren't taking any chances. So, there were no misadventures to report. Yet.

Luquillo Beach
Photo by Chris.
All rights reserved.

It was close to 6 p.m. as we headed back towards San Juan, but we decided to stop at Luquillo Beach anyway. It's one of those coconut-tree-lined affairs with a long, long stretch of sandy beach. We remembered it fondly from our Navy days, when we had friends who lived in the town. On days off, we often went to Luquillo Beach to hang out and swim.

Luquillo Beach (a small part of it)
after yesterday's storm.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

On this particular day, the beach wasn't nearly as pristine as we remembered. Then again, it had been raining quite a bit, so there was lots of run-off, and the surf was stronger than usual, stirring things up. The little food kiosks were still there, lining the entrance to the beach area, selling food and drinks and souvenirs, looking somewhat less enticing than they had in days gone by. And then there was the mangy-mutt, wet dog that hounded us up and down the beach, biting at my white gauze skirt and made a fabulous impression on all of us, especially Karen. Ah, the memories we were making!

Sunset at Luquillo Beach.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

Though it wasn't late, we were all very tired by the time we got back to “our” place, so Bob and Karen dropped us off and went back to the Conrad to get some rest. Once again, I regretted that we hadn't had an opportunity to snorkel. It is what they enjoy most, and I was grateful for their sacrifice of their own desires in order to please Harry and me. And I was determined to make sure some snorkeling got done, one way or another!

The El San Juan is across the street from the Hampton Inn, so Harry and I walked on over to see what it looked like. Back in the day, it was a beautiful “sister” hotel to the El Con. Again, wow! It has grown up, too, and I felt out of place among the city ladies who were all dressed up for the evening. So, we enjoyed a gourmet meal at Wendy's. And then we went back to the Hampton Inn and went to bed.

Anniversary Cruise! Puerto Rico, Day 1

It was wet. Very wet.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.,

We disembarked in San Juan a tiny bit behind schedule, which was okay for a couple of reasons. First, that's just how it is, and there's nothing to be done about it. Second, bridge construction and heavy rains were making it difficult for Bob and Karen to make it to the pier to pick us up. They had arrived in San Juan the day before and were staying at the Conrad Condado, which was visible from the ship. They just couldn't get from Point A to Point B.

It's raining. The wind is blowing a gale.
It's all good.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

There was no immediate area for them to park and wait for us. The deluge continued. It was pouring buckets. Cats and dogs. Like in a movie about jungle survival. After multiple back-and-forth cell phone calls [Our cell phones worked there without having international calling], it seemed best for them to “accidentally” pull in where the motor coaches were loading up the passengers who were going on tours or to the airport. The driving rain was showing no signs of easing, and things were starting to flood. A puddle climbed onto the sidewalk and inched its way towards me. We were soaked, but it was a warm rain. The air temperature was very comfortable, so, no problem!

Old San Juan
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

As soon as we left the loading area, the rain slowed. What a relief! We dropped our luggage off at the Conrad and went straight to Old San Juan. The bright colors, the lace balconies, the cobbled streets. We loved it! Oh, my, the memories came flooding back from the 40-year-old mental file cabinets.

El Morro
Photo by Chris.
All rights reserved.

We visited Castillo San Felipe delMorro (“El Morro”). In the 16^th Century, construction began on this fortress designed to protect San Juan. It is a World Heritage Site, and it is a must-see destination while in Puerto Rico. If you listen very carefully, you can hear the footsteps of the sentries over the centuries. You might even see Sir Francis Drake's ship offshore in his failed attempt to attack San Juan. What a magnificent fortification, with walls around the old city. So colonial and charming and very old.

And such a tremendous lack of parking on the streets of Old San Juan. Up one street, down the other. Not a parking spot to be found. And then, behind the museum, we came upon an enterprising fellow making a few bucks in tips to help folks like us find a spot. Voila! Just like magic.

Enjoying a Pina Colada.
(All rights reserved.)

We happened to saunter by Barrachina. It's about a block from the governor's mansion, La Fortaleza, and it's the restaurant where the Pina Colada was originally created and served. At least, that's their story, and they're sticking to it. In such a circumstance, what can a thirsty traveler do? Exactly.

And then we walked and walked some more. What a beautiful and exotic place. And what a small world: We ran into the couple from St. Kitts we'd met on the ship, and they enthusiastically told Bob and Karen how wonderful the snorkeling is there and how fabulous the water is. Note to self: Go to St. Kitts someday!

Please don't feed them. It only encourages them.
Photo by Chris. All rights reserved.

It was starting to get a bit late in the afternoon, so we retrieved the luggage and started the trek to “our” place...the Hampton Inn. It took absolutely forever in the traffic on the surface streets, and I felt so bad for Bob and Karen. What a drag. There is a freeway that gets you from Point A to Point B in 10 or 15 minutes, but we couldn't find it. Note to self: Check the map next time.

We were pretty hungry by the time we got to Isla Verde. Right across the street from the Hampton Inn, there was a little place called Platino's that offered authentic Puerto Rican cuisine. I was expecting homestyle food of the type I used to eat at lunchtime in Luquillo between shifts at CarlinManufacturing many moons ago, and this was considerably more upscale. But it was still Arroz con Pollo and beans and tostones [fried plantain]. I was a happy camper, and it was only the end of Day One on the island.