I don’t know if the old man is snoring. Who is the old man,anyway? I never stopped to ask myself that. I mean, really. The crap they sing to us as kids and wonder why we end up in therapy. And by “we,” I mean “you.” Not me. No way.
Can you tell it’s Friday and rainy and I’m trying to avoid work by rambling inanely about whatever’s on my mind? Like pickles. For some reason, I’ve been thinking a lot about pickles lately. Making my own. I love a good pickle, the garlicky-er and sour-er the better. And when I see cute little trays of baby cukes at the farmer’s market, it inspires me. It doesn’t actually inspire me to do anything, just to think about doing it.
It speaks to something sort of inherent in me. I’m much more a fan of the idea of doing things than I am the actual doing of things. Pickles seem like the simplest thing, for examples, but then you start reading supply lists and recipes and how you’re supposed to boil the jars and seal them for sanitary purposes and it begins to sound akin to prepping a surgical suite. Which isn’t really that delicious.
Where am I going with this? No idea. Perhaps an existential reflection on what I am or am not doing with my life, now that Mad Men has started a new season and glum navel-gazing is in vogue. Or, more likely, just a diversion to see how much time I can waste before I have to get back and put in at least a couple good hours editing and rewriting. (Hint: if you are placing money on this, I would strongly suggest betting on the latter.)
Okay. Fine. You win. Back to work it is. Only because it’s less hassle than boiling pickle jars.
August 28th, 2009
It probably surprises some people that someone as heat-adverse as me would venture to Puerto Rico in summer. Or any time, really. I understand. It surprises me, too. But one of the mitigating factors is that my favorite place in Puerto Rico is El Yunque, the rainforest in the northeastern part of the island. For years now, we’ve been staying at Casa Cubuy (see Chris & Denise below) , an ecolodge on the edge of the rainforest, located at the very top of the mountain on the non-touristy side. (It’s the opposite side from the National Park entrance.) It’s generally quite a bit cooler up there than down among mere mortals, even in summer.
People have asked me in the past what there is to do on “our” side of the mountain. The answer is a very calculated “nothing.” There are no TVs or phones in the rooms and, until recently, no internet access. (Although on this last trip, service was spotty enough to dissuade us from using it too much.) The reason I go is to plant myself in a chair on the balcony of an upstairs room and stare out at El Yunque, listening to the roar of the waterfall below and the chorus of the coqui frogs, and watching the rain clouds approach and burst open in front of me. Some books get read, a little hiking gets done, especially the easy hike down to the waterfall and swimming hole in Casa Cubuy’s backyard.
If you’ll forgive the foray into cheesiness, the truth is that I tend to feel at peace and calm in the rainforest. In a way I don’t anywhere else. Casa Cubuy is not a luxury resort and, as much as I hate to admit it, has probably seen better days — although it deserves mention that it’s difficult to keep any place rust- and mold-free in that climate. The furniture is simple and mismatched. The sheets and bedding are nothing to write home about. But if you go there knowing that the place is merely a backdrop for the rainforest, then you probably won’t mind a bit.
Puerto Rico’s native Indians, the Tainos, believed that the peak of El Yunque was where their god of creation, Yuquiyu, dwelled and even today it’s not hard to see why. When you watch the rain clouds approach, traveling without rhyme or reason across thousands of acres of rainforest, and open up and release a thunderous burst of rain, it’s pretty apparent that something bigger than me is going on. Maybe not Yuquiyu, but something that keeps me feeling right-sized and humbled in the best of ways.
We spent four nights in El Yunque this time around, doing a little hiking, a lot of reading (see if you can spot Denise, reading in a hammock by the waterfall in the photo above), a fair amount of napping. We headed down to Fajardo one evening and took a kayaking trip into the bioluminescent bay. When Chris and I took our trip with the same tour operator a few years ago, it was just us in a two-person kayak and our guide leading us through a narrow path of mangrove trees to the bay. This time, we were a large group, trying to wind our way in to the bay in an orderly fashion, along with a number of other groups. It was still magnificent when it got dark and our oars starting making bright green trails in the water. Just a little less peaceful and a little more hectic logistically. You should have seen us trying to find our way back out in the pitch dark as new groups were making their way in. Chaos!
It’s also relatively easy to get to the beach from where we were perched in El Yunque, and we did spend one afternoon at Luquillo Beach, one of the better public beaches on that side of the island. (Although it doesn’t hold a candle to the beaches on the islands of Vieques and, Denise now tells me, Culebra.) Still, we had fun, dipping in the ocean, which was the perfect temperature, hanging with the natives. It takes about 40 minutes from Casa Cubuy to the beach, but much of that is spent winding your way down off the mountain on the narrow pathway you share with chickens, dogs and fearless locals barreling up and down the mountain in their junkers.
And that was that. Five days, four nights, gone in a snap. Too little, too fast. But I think the important thing was a reminder that this is something that’s been important to Chris and me over the years. For some reason, it’s a place that allows us to reset ourselves and we just haven’t been making that a priority. Suffice to say we’re already eyeing fares for a return trip in January. By winter they’ll be up to about $500 – $700 per person and right now they’re hovering at an enticing book-now-or-miss-it $220 from Detroit. I’m just sayin’.
August 13th, 2009
Okay, so it’s been a few weeks since we got back from Puerto Rico, but I figure since we hadn’t been there in three years, it’s still well within the acceptable time limit to post about it. Why it took us so long to get back to one of the places we love most on earth, I don’t know. Life. It gets in the way of taking time for what’s truly important. And considering we hadn’t actually taken a trip of any sort that wasn’t business- or family-related in all that time, we were due. We were ready. Oh so ready.
One of the great pleasures of discovering a place you love is getting the opportunity to share it with other people you love. Of course, for a massively codependent people-pleaser like myself, it can also be nerve-wracking. Will they see the beauty that you do? Will they appreciate the non-glossy aspects of Puerto Rico as being part of the true experience? Will they like the quirks? Hell, will they like the food.
On this trip, we met up with our amazing friend Denise. In fact, she’s the one who kicked off the whole affair, announcing her plans to spend 10 or so days in Puerto Rico in between leaving her fellowship here in Ann Arbor and moving to San Antonio. On a whim, we decided to join her and uncovered the adventure of seeing a familiar place through new eyes.
We met up in Old San Juan the first night of our arrival. At the risk of offending anyone, San Juan proper doesn’t have a lot to offer visitors, unless you’re looking for high rises and night clubs. I think it’s safe to say we’re not. Old San Juan, on the other hand, is the oldest settlement within the territorial United States, at least according to Wikipedia, so you know it has to be true. It’s a lovely place, dating back to 1521, founded by the Spanish, teeming with 16th & 17th century colonial architecture, and surrounded by El Morro and the old city walls.
Chris, master of crazy travel bargains, managed to swing us a stellar deal for staying at El Convento, a former Carmelite convent we’vewalked past many times and coveted from afar. Let me tell you, it was charming and delightful. The rooms were comfortable and well-appointed and — although likely not in keeping with its historical state — air conditioned to an icy-cold state.
Aside from such nods to modernity, the place felt steeped in history, with its wooden beam ceilings and giant carved doors. It wasn’t hard at all to imagine the nuns wandering the hallways in quiet contemplation. Although it was so frickin’ hot, I can’t imagine that was particularly comfortable for them in their habits. I’d venture to guess at least a few of them prayed for a break in the weather. (Legend has it that the nuns still walk the hallways in silent prayer, but I tried really hard not to think about it while I was there.)
The convent was built around a central courtyard, with balconies on each level over-looking it. The big tree in the middle of the courtyard (see photo below) is apparently hundreds of millions of years old. Okay, maybe it’s actually just, like, hundreds of years old, but that’s still pretty impressive.
One of my favorite things about El Convento were the nooks and crannies you could explore at every turn and had I not been close to expiring from the heat, I might have done more. We did, however, make it to the roof, which offered us some lovely views of San Juan…
…as well as a nice little saltwater dipping pool which, had the water not been the temperature of tepid bathwater, would have been very refreshing.
While I’m busy complaining about the heat in San Juan, you’re probably thinking, “Duh. It’s summer in Puerto Rico. What were you expecting?” I know, I know. I’ve certainly been there during summer before — after all, it’s when flights and hotels are often cheapest — but we usually make a beeline straight for the rainforest, where it’s much, much cooler. Besides, the last time I was there, I was still somewhat acclimated to St. Louis summers which are pretty comparable to Puerto Rico, actually. In other words, the past few years in Michigan is making me a pansy.
Anyhoo, there was no point in staying in the A/C, no matter how tempting, considering we had only part of the next day to show Denise a good ol’ time in OSJ before heading off on the next leg of our adventure. So we braved the heat of our second day wandering the streets of Old San Juan, looking buildings the color of tropical fruit and, priorities well intact, stopping for breakfast at La Bombonera, our favorite old-timey bakery which has been open for more than a century. (And marveling at the old men at the counter who looked as though they might have been present on opening day.) May I just say that there is a special place in heaven for whoever invented the quesito, Puerto Rico’s answer to a cheese danish. Chris and Denise also had success ordering mallorcas, toasted sandwiches filled with ham & cheese or cheese & egg and then dusted with powdered sugar. All washed down with cups of strong Puerto Rican coffee. Fantastico!
There’s so much to see of Old San Juan and I took so many pictures I can’t possible bore you with them all here. But I think one of the things I love most is that you can find something beautiful and interesting no matter where you look, including down. Many of the streets of Old San Juan are composed of cobblestone made from 16th century ship’s ballast, which has the most beautiful blue-gray hue to it. You know, in case you were wondering. See, here:
I’m telling you, if I ever get my hands on some 16th century Spanish ship’s ballast, I’m so doing a walkway outside my house like this. Then I’ll paint my house the color of mangoes and we’ll just see what the city of Ann Arbor has to say about that. Although, knowing Ann Arbor, the answer is probably: nothing. But I digress.
Where were we? Ah, yes. Wandering through the crazy heat and the bright sun to take in some of Old San Juan’s sites, including the aforementioned fort El Morro and the neighboring cemetery, which overlooks the Atlantic and is the final resting place of many of Puerto Rico’s most notable citizens.
Since you can’t get down there easily on foot, I can’t exactly tell you who these famous people are, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. Either way, they have an incredible view.
Next, we made our way down to the El Morro walkway which led to the Paseo de la Princesa. (Not, as Denise insisted on calling it, the Paseo de Principesa, but we let her have her fun.) Here are Denise and Chris at the Old San Juan Gate, which leads to the walkway.
Somehow we’d never been down there before and it afforded us a nice new perspective on Old San Juan. Go Denise for blazing new trails! (And by new, I mean centuries old.)
After lunch at Cafe Manolin, where we sat at a lunch counter rubbing elbows with locals and scarfing down authentic Puerto Rican fare, Chris had to dash off to do some work. (Work!) So Denise and I wore ourselves out doing a little souvenir shopping. Afterward, we seized the opportunity to pause in a plaza and shield ourselves from the sun while sipping amazingly delicious iced coffees. Quite cosmopolitan, we felt.
By that time, we were just hot, sweaty and tired enough to go and meet up with Chris, say adios to Old San Juan and head east to the El Yunque rainforest for a few days. Stay tuned for details!
August 10th, 2009
Recently, I asked a very dear friend of mine — who is suffering from some health issues — what I could do to help her. She said, “Write something on your damn blog for a change.” Which seems to be just the kick in the pants I needed to sheepishly crawl back here and make, at the very least, this good faith post.
Secretly, I’d been hoping that my blog would just start updating itself. It seems the least it could do after all these years. I figured it would post some photos from our trip to Puerto Rico last month, maybe fill you in on the progress of the novel (none).
Alas, no. So I suppose I’m going to have to do all that. And I will. Starting with tomorrow, when I will post about our Puerto Rico trip with our good friend Denise. Then you won’t be able to stop me! I’ll be posting, you know, semi-regularly. Maybe.
August 6th, 2009
