Puerto Rico was a spontaneous travel decision and the biggest surprise of my year in how much I absolutely fell in love with it, and I swear it wasn't just due to landing in 90 degree heat after suffering through the start of a Cleveland winter.
I think my expectations were low mostly due to it still being part of the USA and also because beach holidays aren't my thing, but despite not needing a passport if you're a US citizen, Puerto Rico fully feels like its own unique country and it has so much more to offer than fabulous beaches.
Also, there are fabulous beaches.
A few months ago, I started looking at allocating the last of my vacation days this year (sadly only three), and traveling in December meant I was focused on warm destinations with reasonable flight times. Flights to and from Puerto Rico (flew out with Spirit and back with JetBlue) were just over $300 in total, so it fit the bill. I messaged Sam, who is of Puerto Rican descent but had never been, and asked if she was down. I got an enthusiastic yes, said, "Ok, but really I'm going to buy these tickets right now," and got another yes, so... Done. Booked.
Day 1 Arrival, Salsa Dancing in San Juan
Very unfortunately, I came down with the worst cold I've had in years just days before our trip. I'm sure it had nothing to do with a binge drinking birthday weekend running around outside in the 30 something degree temps of Ohio. It then rudely just kept getting worse instead of better, so I was stocking up on Dayquil and Airborne at the Cleveland airport on the day of departure.
We had a short layover in Orlando and arrived in San Juan around 4 PM, took a taxi into the city, and checked into our first hostel, Mango Mansion. It reminded me of a (budget, non-luxury) island getaway with a gated in courtyard, palm tree, and beach decorations. We had a four bed dorm room to ourselves.
After a meal of tostones, avocado salad, and taro mash (I have loved taro for years and Sam agreed after trying it for the first time) at a Caribbean restaurant, we headed back to get dressy and walk down the road to a salsa bar that the girl at hostel reception recommended.
Also, let me just note- a lot of people questioned the safety of visiting Puerto Rico, but I walked about 20 minutes down a busy road in the dark that night wearing a short, bright red dress, and I never once felt unsafe (nor did I on the rest of the trip). There were a few compliments (not even sleazy ones) and one dude who stopped his car to blatantly stare but nothing at all threatening. I've been far more sketched out walking around downtown Cleveland in office clothes in the middle of a weekday.
The salsa bar, Piso Viejo 1917, was a great place to spend our first night in Puerto Rico. There were a few instructors teaching salsa to anyone who wanted to join. We jumped into the lineup and learned how to vertical step, horizontal step, and cross step (I'm very sure these are the technical terms). Afterwards, the men and women lined up facing each other, and we danced with every single partner on the opposite side (around 20) until the whole group had rotated around and then some. I'm a pretty terrible dancer, but it was tons of fun. I also held hands with about two dozen people who probably woke up horrendously ill the next day, but they did get to firsthand experience my killer moves so totally worth it for them.
Once the lesson was over, the whole bar was just a free for all salsa party, and guys kept coming up to ask for a dance but like in the old pure days where it didn't mean anything beyond just dancing (I mean, aside from the one creepy middle-aged Indian dude who was trying to feel up Sam, but let's disregard).
Day 2 Ferry to Vieques, Sun Bay Beach, Bioluminescent Bay Kayaking Tour
I was up around 8 on Friday morning. I'm pretty sure Sam barely slept at all she was buzzing so hard from just being in Puerto Rico. I heard her in and out of the room all night and morning. She cried at least 20 times on our trip (starting the moment we landed) out of sheer happiness, and I may be low-balling that estimate.
The hostel had a free breakfast (an actual decent one with hard boiled eggs and waffle makers) which was a nice bonus. After checking out and leaving our luggage downstairs, we walked across the city to hit up Enterprise for our rental car, stopping to check out Condado Beach on the way. We got a cute little hatchback from Enterprise and took the hour's drive down to the ferry terminal at Ceiba where we paid for overnight parking and went to board our 1 PM boat to Vieques.
Condado Beach in San Juan
It was a fairly quick half hour ferry ride, and we caught a taxi there to the other side of the island, Esperanza, where our hostel was located. Our taxi driver was great, a retired Puerto Rican from Texas originally, and he filled us in on lots of little eccentricities of life on Vieques. He commented on it being like stepping 30-40 years in the past, and he told us (in his sexy voice, for what that's worth) about the wild horses we were seeing all along the roadside as we drove.
From what we gathered, all of the animals we saw roaming free- horses, pigs, chickens, cats, dogs- had "owners" in so much as people on the island who would feed them/claim them. They were not confined though and roamed where they like, so I'm not sure how accurate that actually is. Our kayaking guide joked- or not?- that once you moved to Vieques, you'd wake up the next morning with three chickens in your yard, the next day you'd have a cat, by the end of the week you'd have a few horses... basically, the animals will adopt you. Sounds like a dream, to be honest.
We stayed at Lazy Jack's which was great. Small dorms, but the beds all had privacy curtains and their own outlets. Everything- dorm rooms, bathrooms, showers, kitchens- opened to the outdoors. Also there was a bar onsite, although we didn't have time to visit.
Our roommate, Nemo (he likes to scuba), recommended some of the nearby beaches to us, and we set out to find Sun Bay beach without getting too distracted by the pretty horses on the way. There was a very understated outdoor cafe there, the ArenaMar Cafe, that our taxi driver had wholeheartedly recommended, assuring us that it would just look like random scattered tables next to a concrete building but that if we sat down, someone would come take our order.
The owner and his piercing blue eyes (damn these gorgeous middle-aged Hispanic men) came out to meet us, offering to whip up some makeshift boozy coffee frappes when we were struggling to decide between cocktails or caffeine. No idea what he poured in there but it did the trick. Our food- empanadas for Sam and quesadillas for me- was also very good, and we watched the horses nearby dig through the trash while Sam kept a wary eye on the chickens wandering around behind her (she has a fear of birds that is easily exploitable).
I also asked the owner, possibly named Carlos according to his PayPal (some places will totally allow you to pay via PayPal or cash app when they don't take cards), whether Anthony Bourdain had been here to visit, as this was something our cab driver had mentioned. He said no, in fact, Anthony Bourdain had gone to his HOUSE- devastatingly on a weekend that he hadn't been home- and gotten ridiculously drunk off of moonshine with Carlos's wife. And now I need to go dig through the archives of Bourdain's show and find this episode... I was like 3 degrees from greatness talking to this cafe owner.
We headed right onto the beach after that and only saw about four people around. Since Sun Bay is two miles long, it was easy enough to find a totally isolated spot near a very scenic palm tree for swimming and a photoshoot.
I wasn't so sure about my brand new foray into the land of one piece swimwear, but let me tell you... game changer.
On our walk back to the hostel, we just so happened across an extremely fat pig that I at first mistook for a rock, and I could barely contain my excitement. I went to give it a little scratch and it let out a huge squeal, but I figured it was far too massive to do us any harm if it was unsocialized, so I took the rest of Sam's food that ants had desecrated on the beach and put it down for my new friend. Well, Boca (people think it's funny to name pigs things like "Bacon," so I decided to name mine after a veggie burger) absolutely loved its empanada and I'm so glad I could help nourish this clearly underfed animal.
I love you forever, Boca.
We changed back at the hostel and then walked down the road again to the meeting point for our bioluminescent bay kayaking tour. Yet another animal befriended us on the way, a black dog who Sam named Skip because he hopped around on just three of his legs and who accompanied us along the entire length of road until we arrived and he joined up with a pack of his own friends.
We were fitted with life jackets and boarded a bus to take us to Mosquito Bay. It was dark out by now, and on a better day, you would have been able to see the bay glowing from the microorganisms that populate it. Unfortunately, it was a week before the full moon, so the light pollution was too high for the water to do anything more than shimmer in the moonlight.
We were out on the bay in the warm night in glass bottom kayaks though learning about the island from our Jamaican guide, Dave. He kept promising us that the water did indeed glow and we would see it once we covered our boats with a tarp and honestly they were not just scamming us out of money. We'd all be "draped in diamonds" by the end of the night, he kept saying, which I liked because I always enjoy a flair for the dramatic.
When we finally pulled over and they put the tarp over the first two kayaks (two at a time, we rotated), we immediately heard lots of exclamations, so we knew we were in for something cool. Our turn was next, and as soon as the tarp went over us to block out the outside light, the water around us lit up in sparkles. It was like glowing green glitter (think Tinkerbell), and we could scoop it up and pour it over our arms and body, make it swirl through the water... it was like nothing I've seen before. Magic. (Well, science, but that isn't as poetic.)
We took some extra time to learn about the constellations, aided by the most ridiculously high powered laser pointer I've ever seen which touched the stars, then caught the bus back.
Sam and I went out one more time around 10 or 11 PM to get some food at a spot another roommate had recommended, El Guayacan. I hadn't even realized it was a restaurant, it just looked like the tiniest ever outdoor bar with a few tables and a musician singing.
The owner came to speak to us while we were looking at the menu, and I asked about vegetarian options (there were hardly any). He told me he would whip up something special in the kitchen and ended up bringing me out an avocado stuffed with rice, beans, and veggies on top of a bed of mash. It was the best meal of my trip. Also, I totally saw my pig wandering down the road right across the street from us and lost my mind. I'M YOUR #1 FAN, BOCA. Once we finished our food and mojitos, we were pretty worn out and decided to just head to sleep.
Day 3 Playa Negra, Ferry to Ceiba, El Yunque Rainforest, Night Out in Old San Juan
Sam had wanted to get an early start to see the Playa Negra black sand beach before we left Vieques, and while I did agree, I was not at all happy when my alarm clock got me out of bed at 7 AM (after I said nope at 6 AM and reset it).
Coffee.
The beach was about a half hour walk straight down the road, but we got to pass local houses and horses as well as a rainbow after a light shower. We reached the turnoff for Playa Negra and walked another 5 minutes or so along a jungle-like path until we emerged onto the beach. There was only one couple there, and they left after a few minutes, so we had the whole place to ourselves.
The entire beach wasn't black sand, but there was a noticeable amount of it, and Sam scooped up a full cup to take home. There were also these pretty cliffs enclosing it, and we just enjoyed the solitude and morning waves before starting our walk back.
Heading back to our hostel, the first car that pulled over to us on the side of the road turned out to be Dave, our kayaking guide from the night before. He told us he was off to check on his horses but if his workers didn't need him, he'd come back and give us a ride.
We kept on walking and stopped to pet a horse in the middle of the road (the wild horses are a bit skittish but this one let us touch it), and shortly after, a yellow jeep pulled over. The stranger in the driver side leaned over saying, "Hey kids, I've got candy," followed by, "Need a ride? Get in." Flashing back on all the warnings I received growing up about this exact situation, I looked at Sam, shrugged, and said "Yeah, ok."
I hopped in his backseat and he told us he wasn't a fucking chauffeur and someone was sitting up front with him. After Sam took shotgun, he turned back around to tell me, "Don't touch my fucking stuff, I better not find my drugs missing," and I knew we had made a solid choice. The guy, Reid, was actually super cool and hilarious, had moved here from New York, and told us the name of his company as well as a contact for Sam (regarding nursing) if we ever decided to come back or move. We sat chatting with him for awhile longer back outside our hostel. On the downside, he didn't actually have any candy so 4/5 stars for false advertising.
We got in a taxi van with some other travelers to head down to the ferry terminal, were on our way back to Ceiba at 11 AM, picked up our rental car, and started driving towards the rainforest. We passed by the Loquillo kiosks, dozens of local restaurants all attached in a long line, and pulled over to grab some lunch at a Peruvian place. Also, if you haven't picked up on how accommodating restaurants were already (making meals and cocktails not even on the menus), I stopped to look at one place that had no veggie options and the owner actually asked me for advice on vegetarian items he could offer in the future.
It was just before 3 PM when we arrived at the rainforest, and we drove up the winding hills through the vibrant green trees until we reached a viewing point at Coca Falls. We stopped to check out the waterfall flowing down over the flat cliff face, and I climbed up the rocks to get a closer view as well.
Further up the hills, we parked near the Mt. Britton trailhead and spent the next half hour or so walking uphill on a narrow path through the trees.
It ended on a main road leading to another small path, and the last 5 minutes were steep and tiring. The Mt. Britton lookout tower was worth it though, the views from the top were incredible. It cooled down about 10 degrees up there because you were literally in the clouds.
The lookout tower is up at the top of that hill. Photo taken from where we parked.
It wasn't much longer to drive back to Old San Juan from there, and we found a parking garage near our new hostel, Base, after I dropped off our luggage in there. It was even greater than I'd hoped it would be when I found it on Air BnB. I could not have made a better choice of hostel for our last two nights (self-congratulatory moment).
Base Hostel is in this old building in the center of Old San Juan, a super bohemian open space with balconies overlooking the street that totally suits the vibe of the city. It definitely is not for people looking for luxury- the kitchen appliances are outdated (a portable stove burner, metal drip coffee contraption, and just a mini-fridge for the whole hostel to share), water pressure in the shower absolutely sucks if you can even get more than a drip to come out, and our four bed dorm room was so tiny that we couldn't fit our suitcase in there until one of the ladies moved out, but it was eclectic and cool and the friends we made were fantastic. Also, they have a few rooftop shacks you can rent out- one is accessible by rope bridge crossing the main lobby (a lobby which is open to the sky, by the way)- how cool is that?
It also doubles as an event space... and it just so happened that the night we moved in, a couple of famous (?) Romanian DJs were coming to put on a show that people were paying $50 a head for. They had taken over the big empty room next to the kitchen and the adjoining bar area. I was pretty excited about this massive party we had just stumbled into, but the hostel owner, Jose, was somewhat stressed out. I texted him to tell him we were there and wanted to know which room we were in (there's nothing remotely formal like a reception desk), and he called me back to direct us to our room.
The conversation went a bit like this: "Listen, Maria, I have a bit of a shitshow on my hands tonight. Do you know what a shitshow is? Yes? Well, I can tell by the tone of your voice that you're one of the people who will be excited about crashing our party tonight. No, no, don't worry, they are wanting to charge my guests to attend but I'll get you in for free. Just call me in three hours and I'll get you in. I told them no one at my hostel is going to be able to sleep until 5 AM so they have to be allowed into the event, but they're busting my balls here. These motherfuckers... Motherfuckers."
Jose ended up being just as delightfully strange in person when he arrived, and he immediately spoke to us like we were new friends, giving us hugs and some offhand psychoanalysis off the bat (one of the first conversations we had was about zodiac signs). I also got the impression he was a bit of a creep when he brought me over to introduce me to my "gorgeous" Spanish dorm mate (the quotations are because that's the exact word he used to describe her, not because she wasn't gorgeous- she definitely was), Alicia, who he kept going on about despite the fact that she was 19 and he was 58 and she was already involved with a younger guy, Joe, who worked at the hostel.
That night was such a blast. The place started to fill up a bit in the early evening, but we had made a few friends and went out to hit the bars nearby with some other Americans- Jeff and Paul who were visiting, and J.R. who lived at the hostel. J.R. walked us through this extremely swanky cocktail bar, then we all hit a karaoke spot where we had some beers and shots. We headed back to the hostel afterwards, and at some point migrated out of the crowds downstairs and up to the roof where Joe had a table and chairs outside of the shack where he currently resides.
Jose showed up with a couple of older friends, and we all sat around drinking beer and rum and chatting. I finally was able to practice my Spanish for a good hour or two with one of the older Puerto Ricans as well as Alicia which I really appreciated. They helped me with my vocabulary and encouraged me a whole lot! I've studied for years and had been wanting to converse in Spanish while we were in Puerto Rico, but almost anyone we met out and about would just reply to me in English knowing that I was American.
J.R. and I ventured downstairs at one point to buy a drink at the bar, but the people down there seemed pretty low-key and boring for some big techno event, and we tried to dance to the random and unappealing electronic noises (please note that I have nothing against actual decent EDM) and couldn't even. I was much happier hanging out on our VIP rooftop. At some point, Jose looked around at everyone up there and declared that this was what his hostel should be, a group of great people like us sharing drinks in a tight-knit gathering. Bohemia! This was all good until about 4 AM when it was just myself, J.R., Jose, and Sam on the roof, and I straight up told off Jose for hitting on Sam all night, and he said he was going home, and uhh... that was a wrap.
Day 4 Bacardi Factory
It was our last day with the rental car on Sunday, and I had planned a little road trip to the pink salt flats before I realized my initial map search had misled me and they were, in fact, a 2 1/2 hour drive each way which was not happening. Instead, after grabbing some cheap breakfast at La Tortuga across the street, we just drove over to the Bacardi factory.
A tour is only $15 and that includes a cocktail (plus you get to keep the glass), which I think is a great deal. We both chose the Bacardi sunrise and befriended a group of four others who we sat with.
A tram picked us up for our 2:15 PM tour and gave us a very short ride around the grounds before dropping us off at the main building. In there, our guide gave us information about Bacardi and its history and distillation process while walking us through the fountain room, a barrel room, an area where you could smell each different brand of rum, and into a theater where we watched a quick documentary. We ended in a bar that was a recreation of the original Bacardi bar in Cuba, then we were let out into the shop where I purchased a few gifts and a bottle of Bacardi Reserva Ocho.
Now done with our rental, we headed back to Enterprise to drop it off, and the girl, Evelyn, who checked over our car ended up talking to us for about 10 minutes. She was so thrilled to hear how much we had enjoyed the island and told us how the people had really bonded together and become more present and positive about life in the aftermath of the hurricane. Both she and Sam got teary eyed over love for Puerto Rico, and she ended up asking if she could give us both hugs before we left. Honestly, if hugging your car rental agent doesn't just sum up the hospitality of the Puerto Rican people, I don't know what does.
We just so happened to be at Enterprise at the exact same time Jeff from our hostel was picking his car up, and he gave us a ride back to the hostel (seriously this whole trip just ran so smoothly it blows my mind). We had been running ourselves into the ground the last few days, so we took the evening really easy, headed down to La Factoria beneath our hostel for a delicious nacho dinner, and played cards with our friends in the kitchen later on.
Day 5 Explore Old San Juan
I will tell you far more about JetBlue and the absolute clusterfuck getting home turned out to be shortly, but let's start by just mentioning that we had originally booked a flight home that night at 7 PM. About a month before the trip, JetBlue sent me a schedule change notification which turned out to be, "We've totally cancelled your original flight but don't worry, now you're leaving at 2 in the goddamn morning and connecting through Boston in winter instead of Fort Lauderdale, but please accept these reasonable changes and enjoy going straight to work after landing in Cleveland at 8:30 AM."
Considering we had no other decent options for getting home unless we totally forfeited our Monday in Puerto Rico, I said ok, I'll deal with the red eye and being at work exhausted, I've done it before. In fact, by the time Monday came, I was psyched that we had more time to hang out that night with our friends at our hostel.
We had another leisurely day wandering around Old San Juan and checking out the forts, Castillo del Morro and Castillo de San Cristobal. The latter was not much to see, but a ticket grants you entry to both, so might as well. Castillo del Morro was quite pretty with its bright yellow courtyard and lighthouse.
Even better than the forts is the cemetery that lies between them, Santa María Magdalena de Pazzis. Walk up onto the walls above for a stunning view of the white graves and red-domed plaza overlooking the ocean. Also, there are giant lizards everywhere.
Just walking around the city was a fun experience. It's so colorful everywhere you turn with vibrant colonial houses, street art, palm trees, and statues. We got drenched in a sudden rainstorm on our walk and even saw a double rainbow over the water.
That night was a perfect little get-together in the empty event room of the hostel. Alicia, Joe, his friend Elizabeth who had just arrived, J.R., and Hector and his guitar all sat around to drink with us. At some point, J.R. (WHO I ADORE, BY THE WAY) asked if I wanted to walk to SuperMax to pick up a bottle, so we headed down the road together and returned with rum which we all very quickly disposed of. It was also Alicia's birthday, and we sang to her and got to witness her fully drop her entire cake on the ground after blowing out the candles.
Sam and Joe
My best friend J.R.
Sam and I sadly said our goodbyes around 12:30 AM and caught a quick uber to the airport. It was only once I had checked in our bag that I looked at our flight status and saw that we were now delayed until 4:30 IN THE MORNING. I went half-drunk (ok, fully drunk) up to the airline attendant to reschedule our Boston connection which we would now miss and was told that the next one out of Boston was not until 4 IN THE EVENING. HA. HAHA.
I didn't have it in me to search for alternatives, and honestly, I know the SJU airport does not have many options as I've had to book travelers there and try to evacuate a few people during hurricane season at my job. So I messaged J.R. and he told us to "uber back and stop being cunts" (like seriously, love him) which we did, and he and Hector stayed up drinking with us for another hour before we had to yet again uber to the airport. At this point, I was absolutely delirious going through security, but I had a full row to myself on the plane and passed right out.
Our 8 hour layover in Boston on Tuesday was just a swell time- calling off work despite having no hours left to take, napping on airport benches, and hitting up Wahlburger's (ok, that I enjoyed)- and then our flight out was delayed AGAIN and they had us disembark the plane for 2 hours after boarding because *their iPads were down* (please read that in the most scathingly mocking tone you can manage), and I didn't get home until about 9 PM. JetBlue had the audacity to send me an email survey asking how they did, and I was so SO happy to tell them.
Well, to be honest, guys, this is the most fun I've had writing a blog entry in ages because I just adored Puerto Rico and all of the colorful characters we met there. I'm pretty averse to returning to vacation spots because there's too much world out there to see, but Puerto Rico? I will be back.
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