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Before it’s too late, I had better wrap up my account of our legendary Puerto Rico vacation.  What follows includes the most beautiful, sublime, fascinating, and thrilling moments of our entire voyage.

As I mentioned in a previous post, one of the first excursions out of San Juan that we made was to the mountainous interior of the island.  On the same day we went to the Arecibo observatory, we had also planned to visit the Parque de las Cavernas del Río Camuy. Alas, when we reached the park gate, the attendant told us that all that day’s tickets had been distributed.  We would have to return later in the week.

We left San Juan early on a Sunday morning to make the drive back to Camuy.  We reached the park and got two of the limited number of tickets that would be distributed that day.  Once inside I understood why they had to limit access.

Visitors wait at a covered area near the park entrance and wait for their number to be called.  When it’s your turn, you line up on a wooden ramp before boarding a motorized tram.  The tram follows a winding path down the mountain and stops at the bottom, where everyone steps off and the fun begins.

Through a narrow opening in the rock, a path leads into the cave.  Near the opening, a little sunlight peeks through and some vegetation grows, but deeper in it becomes dark, and nothing does.  Some electric lights prevent total blackness and inevitable injury on the sharp limestone formations that cover the floor.  After a short walk you come upon a domed chamber of overwhelming size.  I can’t give any technical details, but believe me when I say it was enormous.  The tallest building in Gainesville could easily have fit inside with room to spare.

We were warned repeatedly not to touch anything in the cave, and at a low spot near the end of the cavern we saw why.  All the water that flows down the walls of the cavern makes its way to a pool near the opening at the far end.  In that pool are micro-organisms that live only in that cave, and nowhere else on earth.

Exiting the cavern at the far end, you find yourself near the bottom of an extraordinary sinkhole.  It isn’t anything like the sinkholes you find in Florida, which are wide and shallow.  This was a pit hundreds of feet deep, with a narrow opening to the sky at the top, ringed by trees.  A waterfall splashed down to the floor, which was still some distance below us.  Some way off you can see the opening of another cave that looked to be smaller than the one you just exited.  But as you approach that cave, you realize that it is huge.  A large aircraft could have flown comfortably through the opening.  We were not allowed to get near that cave though, which is off-limits to all but a few trained spelunkers.

Back in the giant cavern, you head along a different path and soon hear the sound of rushing water.  None is visible anywhere, but the sound becomes louder until it is clear that a raging river is near.  That river is, in fact, down a deep, black crevasse.  I had a terrible vision of falling down, and being washed into the abyss.  I realized I was in Xanadu:

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

I believe that that cavern may be the single most impressive natural wonder I have ever beheld.  Alas, the darkness within the cave made photography extremely difficult.  That is why I have few good pictures.

For similar reasons, I have even fewer photographs of another natural wonder we visited near the end of our trip.  At the far eastern end of the island, near the town of Fajardo, there is a small city park along the water.  It looks a lot like any waterside park in Florida, with picnic areas and a boat ramp.  But shortly before dusk each night, trucks hauling trailers loaded with kayaks line up along the sea wall, and the tourists begin donning life jackets.  The guides distribute collect shoes, distribute paddles, and assign kayaks, and as the sun sets, everyone begins rowing across the marina.  At the other side, you enter a narrow channel through the mangroves, which tower over your head and in some places form a tunnel over head.  Moving with the tide it takes about twenty minutes, and when you arrive in a large open lagoon it is already dark.

The first thing I noticed was the sky.  Except for some low fog around the mountains that circle the lagoon, it was clear, and I saw more stars than I’d seen since I was a child.  The guides turned off the glowing sticks mounted to the rear of each kayak, and then the only artificial light came from the lighthouse on the mountain.  Looking down, it was immediately apparent to me why this lagoon is so special: the water glows.  Microscopic animals living in the water emit a powerful light when disturbed.  Scooping the water in my hands, I could discern each individual point of light, though the animals themselves are much too small to see.  When I ran my arm through the water, all the individuals shined together, and it looked as though there was a bright blue light beneath the surface.

The tour guide, in his own kayak, explained how those organisms required very particular conditions to live, and how that lagoon was one of only a handful of places were they could be found.  Two similar environments could be found elsewhere in Puerto Rico, but they are not as well protected and one, in Ponce, has been virtually ruined by motorized boats and swimmers.  In Fajardo, swimming is prohibited, and only kayaks and canoes are allowed in.  Moreover, the lagoon was practically a secret: Miriam grew up in Fajardo and never heard about it while she lived there.

After about a half hour, we began paddling back to the marina.  The tide was against us, though, and it took almost three times as long to make it through the mangrove maze as before.  We were further slowed by kayakers from another tour coming in.  In the mangroves, it was almost totally dark.  We made it back to the park where we had left our car, and began driving back to San Juan.  It was hard to get that glowing lagoon out of my mind.

Near Aguadilla, at the far west end of the island, we visited where I rode a horse for the first time.  The Paso Fino is an easy-to-ride horse that originated in Puerto Rico, which was good for me, because I wasn’t sure what to expect.  My horse practically rode herself.  When I pulled back on the reins she stopped, and she never refused to move to what ever side I directed her.  I was placed at the back of a short line of horses because my horse apparently didn’t like having other horses behind her.  But Miriam was two horses ahead of me, and I wanted to catch up.  I wasn’t supposed to, but I did it anyway when our guide wasn’t looking.  We had set out from the ranch, rode across a grove of trees, over a dune, and were on a deserted beach.  The horses didn’t seem to mind trotting through the water, though it was a little scary when they got close the the edge of a dune.

After about twenty minutes or riding along the shore, we reached a rocky outcrop.  We tied the horses up to some trees, and climbed along the rocks to near the entrance of a sea cave.  The tide was too high and the surf was too rough to get any closer, but it was still fun.

The ride back was hard.  Someone at the front of the convoy made his horse run, then all the horses wanted to run.  Paso Finos a smooth riders, but the trotting still made my shoulder hurt.  Still, it was a fun and memorable experience.  I had never done more than pet a horse before, so getting to ride one along a beach was wonderful.  And getting to ride one along a remote beach, away from anything man-made, was even better.

The caverns, the bio-luminescent bay, and the horseback riding were the highlights of our vacation to Puerto Rico.

Filed under: Recreation, Travel on August 31st, 2009 | 1 Comment »

The morning of our second day in Puerto Rico took us to the mountainous interior of the island.  Heading west out of San Juan wasn’t too bad, since all the traffic in the morning comes into the city.  As you drive, the view to the south is one of rugged mountains.  The nearer ones are not so intimidating, but behind them, further inland, is a much more fearsome range.  That was where we were heading.  I’ve written already about the dangerous and unsafe mountain roads.  However awful they are to drive, they lead to interesting places.

Our first stop was the Arecibo Observatory.  Operated by Cornell University, it is one of the largest radio telescopes on Earth.  Pictures don’t do it justice.  It is really enormous.  I seem to recall the tour guide saying something about twenty-five football fields fitting inside.  Astronomers chose this specific location for a few reasons, of which the most significant were the proximity to the equator, and another being the big hole that existed naturally between the surrounding mountains.  The had to do only a little blasting to fit the reflector.  Looking at the different antennas from the rim of the reflector you cannot tell how large anything really is.  But when a man passed in a basket over head, his tiny size gave some indication.  The short film we watched in the visitor center explained that the round sub-reflector suspended high in the air is the size of a three story building.  The pointy antenna next to it is almost a hundred feet long.  Three colossal concrete towers support the cables, and those cables are embedded in massive concrete anchors.  The air at Arecibo was fresh and in the shade I felt so cool and comfortable that if I closed my eyes I could imagine that I was in the North Carolina mountains.

Our next stop that day was to be the caverns in Camuy, but we arrived to find that all the tickets had been sold for the day.  We decided to head instead to the nearby Caguana Ceremonial Ball Courts.  The Taíno lived here in pre-Hispanic times, and left petroglyphs which are on display and are fascinating.  Now, a cynical person might say, “well sure, this place is interesting, but while the Taíno were drawing on these stones, the French were building the cathedral at Riems“.  That may be so, smart guy, but as Jared Diamond points out in Guns, Germs, and Steel, geography and technology are crucial to the development of any society.  Europeans lived in the most fertile place in the world, had horses and access to almost unlimited resources.  The indigenous people of the Caribbean had to cope with frequent hurricanes, occasional earthquakes, land that was far too rugged to sustain substantial populations through agriculture.  The ball courts at Caguana are fascinating, and you could see how the stones surrounding them were brought up from the river running through the canyon below.  All around the site were enormous Ceiba trees, which were easily over a hundred feet tall, with massive trunks that dwarf a man. The park was practically deserted, and the weather was lovely.

The drive back to San Juan gave me another opportunity to experience awe and terror, as I passed gorgeous scenery, and treacherous driving conditions.  At one point, a convoy of ambulances approached from behind with lights flashing.  I moved over to allow them to pass, but they didn’t go any faster than anyone else.  I concluded that emergency vehicles in Puerto Rico must always just travel with flashing lights.  Meanwhile, when I did hear a police siren, I looked around expecting to find a patrol car.  Rather, I discovered a motorcyclist and his girlfriend, using a police siren to attract attention.

We joined our friend Maggie, who lives in Puerto Rico, for dinner at a restaurant with a cool Egyptian theme.  At the conclusion of the meal, a belly-dancing girl came out and entertained everyone.  I can see why that custom is so popular.

It was after ten o’clock when we arrived back at our hotel, and I was ultra tired.  The next day we would explore San Juan.

Filed under: History, Technology, Travel on August 30th, 2009 | No Comments »

This is the story of the most action-packed vacation in history.

We arrived in San Juan in the early afternoon, and took the short taxi ride to our hotel, the Intercontinental San Juan Resort and Casino.  We were shocked when the front desk clerk told us we must pay a $500 deposit “for incidentals”.  We had purchased a vacation package months ago, which included our airfare and hotel.  We knew we’d have to pay for parking and taxes, but didn’t expect to pay such a large sum up front.  It cut into our walkin’ around money quite a bit.  To make matters worse, to pick up the rental car we’d reserved we had to pay a $400 deposit.  At the end of the week, Avis would refund the deposit less the rental fee.  Thankfully, that was the end of our troubles for the entire vacation (save one rainy morning).  The desk clerk gave us a sweet room upgrade on the eleventh floor with a beach view.  Plus, the girl at the Avis desk–conveniently located in the hotel lobby–upgraded us to a Nissan Rogue.  It was quite nice, and made us feel better.

We spent that afternoon hanging out near the hotel, deciding to take it easy.  There were several restaurants across the street, so we ate, and got directions to the nearest supermarket from two police officers.  Pueblo is quite similar to Albertson’s.  I was fascinated by all the exotic products.  Brands we know well in the USA make items for the Latin American market that we never see here.  And items that we do have look different.  Two-liter Pepsi bottles were tall and slender, and Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes are called something else entirely.  Soda was less expensive than in the USA ($1.07 for two liters), but dairy products were much more: milk cost $5.99 per gallon.  The Puerto Rico equivalent of Merita or Hostess is called Holsum, and I bought a package of their little donuts with powdered sugar called “Donitas”.  They were delightful, and over the course of our vacation I must have eaten eighty little donuts.  I even wrote a song about them:

Donitas, me gusta comer Donitas.
Te quiero, mi amor, Donitas.
La comida de Dios, Donitas!

I would like to make a music video for my song in a very Univision style, with lots of blown-back hair, camera zooming, and a scene where I pick my face up out of a pile of powdered sugar, like the scene from Scarface where Al Pacino lays face down in a  mountain of cocaine.  I can’t say enough good things about Donitas.

But, even better than Donitas was a treat I had for the first time ever the day we spent in Old San Juan.  The historic eatery called La Bombonera sells something called Mallorcas, and they are a gift from heaven.  They look like small spirals of dough sprinkled with powdered sugar.  You can get them in this soft form, but I had mine grilled, without the cheese or meat that others prefer.  They were indescribably good, and I wished I had a larger stomach so that I could have eaten more of them.  More about La Bombonera later.

After dinner our first night, we went down to the beach, then swam in the pool after dark.  The constant breeze and cool water was completely refreshing.  The pool, which was huge and had a waterfall and a bridge over it, was open all day and night, but we sometimes went down too late to get towels from the gazebo, and had to feel very cold coming up in the air-conditioned elevator.  Then, back in the room, we opened the sliding glass door to the small balcony, and delighted in the breeze that blew back the curtains.  Most of the time that we spent in our room was with the door open.  Some nights we could see the cruise ships leaving San Juan and heading east, and the sight of their bright lights sailing toward the horizon was enchanting.  So ended our first day in Puerto Rico.

More to come.

Filed under: Food, Travel on August 26th, 2009 | 1 Comment »

ORLANDO – Stepping off the airplane this afternoon and walking into the bright and spacious concourse here was like entering the future.  After a week in Puerto Rico, many aspects of life in the United States which I have heretofore taken for granted seem like wonderful luxuries.

Not to put too fine a point on it, Puerto Rico is, in many respects, the third world.  True, many luxury hotels line the Atlantic coast in San Juan, and while there, Miriam and I could walk around the corner to Pueblo, which felt remarkably like an Albertson’s.  At the same time, however, a level of poverty exists there which is simply unknown in the the USA.  And that poverty is pervasive.  Unlike in America, Puerto Rican slums and projects stand right beside the homes of the wealthy, and slums stand on beachfront property.  Thus, Puerto Rico often felt like a foreign country to me.

As we drove from Orlando International Airport to Miriam’s parents’ home, the wide, safe, well-lit, properly maintained highway seemed to me like a vision from a futuristic utopia.

While I am glad to be home, and enjoy the luxuries of life in the United States, I am aware that I just took a legendary vacation that I will remember fondly for the rest of my life.

Filed under: Musings, Travel on August 21st, 2009 | No Comments »

SAN JUAN – In Puerto Rico, crowds are everywhere.  On every narrow sidewalk, one must step off the curb or duck into a doorway to allow approaching pedestrians to pass.  The traffic jams out of the capital every evening are of a biblical scale.  Smaller towns, too, have bumper-to-bumper traffic through the narrow lanes, and vendors at every corner.

The number of people selling food in Puerto Rico is impossible to exaggerate.  Where ever one stands here, several dining opportunities are within view.  At street corners, men and women sell fruit.  At roadside kiosks, vendors sell all manner of fried and roasted meat.  Restaurants fill every building.  I know that seems like hyperbole, but when I say that you can’t turn your head without finding a place to eat, I mean it.  In people’s homes, from people’s cars, from stand-alone structures and on foot, food is for sale.

Perhaps the most unexpected thing I have found amidst the huddled masses, baking in the heat here is a kind and jovial politeness.  Almost without exception, everyone with whom I have come into contact in Puerto Rico has been very nice.  Even in situations in which one might expect a degree of curtness or even aggression, there is none.  For example, Miriam and I attempted to access the former United States Navy base called Roesevelt Roads on the east side of the island.  At three different checkpoints we were turned away.  But, each guard with whom we spoke was friendly and polite.  In America, security guards are so often complete jerks, that I was taken aback.  And, even when it sounds like Puerto Ricans are angry and shouting at one another–and people here are loud, to be sure–it isn’t what it seems.  On a sidewalk beside a vast expanse of lawn that sits before San Felipe del Morro, as we enjoyed delicious piraguas, we saw a family pass.  The children were shouting as children always do, and the mother seemed to be speaking sternly to them.  But, what they were really saying, in Spanish, of course, was how beautiful the kites were, and how nice the weather was.

Puerto Rico is crowded, dirty, and poor as can be.  But the people here are warm and friendly.  I will miss this.

Filed under: Food, Travel on August 21st, 2009 | No Comments »