The Wedding
I returned last week from my first visit to Puerto Rico for Mike and Silvana's wedding.
Puerto Rico was an eye-opener; I'd visited its sister island The Dominican Republic a
couple of years ago and expected PR to be similar. It was anything but! The island
was very americanized -parts of San Juan made me feel like I was in Miami;
tourism was its only industry; there were cars everywhere; people preferred to
eat meat and fast-food over fish; a sizable number of people spoke very
little Spanish.
The wedding was in Vieques, a small island a few miles off the main island. I went there with Stefano who'd joined me in NYC from Cambridge and we stayed in a small nice B&B in Isabel Segundo, the island's main town. It was an outdoor wedding, and it was warm. I was planning on going casual, but Stefano insisted that we wear suits!
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| With Stefano, the Italian Stallion at the wedding |
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| Mike gave a nice, lighthearted speech at the dinner |
The Party
Gloria, who I met on the small and short flight from San Juan to Vieques, was staying at the W, the wedding venue
and so came to the party after with her Colombian friends. They were a lot of fun, good dancers and really livened the party up.
We all did an impromptu pool-dip in the middle of all the celebrations!
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| With the wedding-crashers (Gloria and her Colombian friends) |
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| The bar next to the pool, after a midnight splash prompted by Gloria |
Puerto Rico
After the wedding I went on a week's tour of the main island of Puerto Rico. I took an hour-long ferry over choppy waters to Fajardo, and decided to walk up the coast to the NE peninsula about 5 or so miles North. I quickly realized that Puerto Rico had a very strong LA-like car-culture; public transport, or the idea of walking did not exist. I had to make my way up overgrown sidewalks and through curious stray dogs.
It turned out that I was there in between seasons and everything seemed shutdown. I took me a few hours to find a place to sleep in Cabezas -I was rueing not bringing my camping gear- and when I did find a place, I was the only person in a run-down motel. The next day I spent a futile few hours trying to find a bus to take me to Fajardo. I finally gave up and called a cab to take me to a car-rental where I rented a small car for three days. Suddenly I was mobile, but in an isolated, air-conditioned cocoon, with the radio keeping me company.
I first drove down the East coast, and found myself in this lovely beach town called Maunabo. Again I found myself to be the only person at this old tourist hostel there. Not only did I have the hostel to myself, but I had the lovely beach it overlooked to myself too. The hostel had great character with cats and chicken running all over the place.
I first drove down the East coast, and found myself in this lovely beach town called Maunabo. Again I found myself to be the only person at this old tourist hostel there. Not only did I have the hostel to myself, but I had the lovely beach it overlooked to myself too. The hostel had great character with cats and chicken running all over the place.
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| The view from the hostel at Maunabo |
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| I had interesting company at the hostel |
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| The drive along the southern coast to Ponce |
The next day I decided to drive along the southern coast to Ponce, then up to the central mountains. After a 8 lane highway to Ponce along the coast, the roads to the central mountains were winding, lush with vegetation and slow. I spent the evening in a small town called Adjuntas. It seemed that every small town in PR has a central square around which the town revolves.
The guide-book promised some hiking around the neighboring Mt. Punta, the highest point in PR. I drove there the next day but was unable to find the hiking trail that led to the top -it had vanished because of non-use. There was, however, a steep four-wheeler road to the top. I climbed up the steep road but sadly the top was emblazoned with communication towers and even my view was obscured by rain-clouds that moved in.
I continued on and then drove up to the northern coast through the mountains. Then I headed East to San Juan for the weekend before heading back to NYC
San Juan the capital was eerie. Parts of it along the beach felt made me feel that I was in Miami. The area I stayed, a little south of the beaches, called Santurce was more gritty and reminded me more of the Puerto Rican neighborhoods of NYC. Some big differences: unlike NYC and the Dominican Republic there were no little bodegas on each street-corner; instead there was Walmart and another big supermarket. Sad!
Amazingly I ran into two people I knew in the three days I was in San Juan. Laura, Silvana's cousin from the wedding came to stay at the hostel I was in, and then at the Nuorican Cafe, a spot for good Latin Jazz and Salsa, I ran into a colleague from work in NYC. Small world!
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| The main square in Adjuntas |
The guide-book promised some hiking around the neighboring Mt. Punta, the highest point in PR. I drove there the next day but was unable to find the hiking trail that led to the top -it had vanished because of non-use. There was, however, a steep four-wheeler road to the top. I climbed up the steep road but sadly the top was emblazoned with communication towers and even my view was obscured by rain-clouds that moved in.
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| Sadly clouds rolled in just as I walked up to the top of Mt. Punta |
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| The highest point in Puerto Rico, Mt. Punta |
I continued on and then drove up to the northern coast through the mountains. Then I headed East to San Juan for the weekend before heading back to NYC
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| Lunch spot in the Central Mountains |
San Juan
San Juan the capital was eerie. Parts of it along the beach felt made me feel that I was in Miami. The area I stayed, a little south of the beaches, called Santurce was more gritty and reminded me more of the Puerto Rican neighborhoods of NYC. Some big differences: unlike NYC and the Dominican Republic there were no little bodegas on each street-corner; instead there was Walmart and another big supermarket. Sad!
Amazingly I ran into two people I knew in the three days I was in San Juan. Laura, Silvana's cousin from the wedding came to stay at the hostel I was in, and then at the Nuorican Cafe, a spot for good Latin Jazz and Salsa, I ran into a colleague from work in NYC. Small world!
