Puerto Rico Vacation – 1995

Genesis

People always ask me why we went to Puerto Rico. It is a long story. But here goes.

I have been to Hawaii twice. I loved it both times. So when my frequent flyer mile account balance reached 140,000 miles and I had enough miles to fly five of us to Hawaii, I talked it over with Mary. We talked about Mexico, but I was afraid of Montezuma’s revenge. And besides, isn’t Mexico just like Southern California, except there are more Mexicans in California?

I just wanted to go to Hawaii again, and Mary did too. I’m sure my feelings had nothing to do with the time we were in Hawaii at a Hawaiian luau and they had Tahitian dancers wearing nothing but cocumt shells on top and little grass things on bottom and one of them pulled me out of the audience to come up on the stage and dance with her. Mary forced her afterwords to have her picture taken with me. I’m sure that experience has nothing to do with my desire to go again.

I’m also sure it has nothing to do with Elaine Morton, the only Playboy centerfold in my high school graduating class, the 1967 class of Burbank High School. At our 20th reunion, she told me she was living in Hawaii now, and if I ever was there I should look her up. Only she goes by a different name there, and I don’t remember her other name or the address she gave me. So I’m sure she has nothing to do with why I wanted to go to Hawaii either.

Hawaii is just a beautiful place with warm water and nice waves. It is also so far away that you really feel like you are getting away from everything over there. Very relaxing. Anyway, I called United Airlines to make reservations. I called in November of 1994 to make reservations for us to go sometime in the summer of 1995. The travel agent practically laughed in my face. “That’s only 8 months away. We don’t have any free tickets to Hawaii available until Christmas of 1995!”

Since Stephanie and Jim were coming to see us for Christmas, going then was out of the question. And I didn’t want to wait until the next year because Carl might be on his mission. I asked the travel agent, “What exotic places are tickets available for during the summer of ’95?”

She mentioned Mexico, but I declined. “We can get you to San Juan in August,” she said.

I tried to picture San Juan, but I had no idea where it was. “San Juan?” I said to her, hoping she might volunteer a little information about its whereabouts. I thlugh about asking which hemisphere San Juan was in, but I was afraid she would put a little asterisk on my frequent flyer account saying “This bozo deosn’t even know where San Juan is.” If she knewe where San Juan was, she wasn’t going to tell me. I decided to make the reservations, because we could always change them if we decided not to go to San Juan.

I hung up with the travel agent and called Mary. “Where’s San Juan?” I asked.

“I think it’s in Puerto Rico,” she replied.

And that’s why we went to Puerto Rico for our summer vacation.

Preparations

Amanda and I looked up Puerto Rico in the encyclopedia (one of those numerous times we are glad we bought our own encyclopedia and didn’t have to drive to the library to use their copy). We learned that San Juan was the biggest city, that Puerto Rico was a little farther south than Hawaii, that it was hot, had beautiful beaches and a rain forest. Most importantly, it is the birthplace of Roberto Clemente. No, he was not an explorer! He played right field for the Pittsburgh Pirates in the 1960s and 1970s and had one of the best throwing arms in baseball, consistently hit over .300 and was known for being a bad-ball hitter. He was a local hero in Puerto Rico and did lots of charitable work for the people there. He was killed in a plane crash delivering goods to the island after a hurricane.

We decided we were glad to be going to Puerto Rico.

Monday, July 31

We finished packing in the morning. Amanda and I took Dusty (our dog) to the Vet where he was to be boarded while we were gone. Pepper (Amanda’s hamster) has somehow learned how to open her cage from the inside, so I tied her door closed in five different places. She will be fine while we are gone.

We flew from Denver to Chicago, arriving an hour late because of thunderstorm activity. We walked across the street from the airport to the O’Hare Hilton where we stayed the night. We ordered Chicago-style pizza, wanting to enjoy the different culture of the places we were traveling to on our vacation.

Tuesday, August 1

Our plane left at 7:40 a.m., so we had to get up early to walk to the airport. But the flight was uneventful (4 ½ hours), and we all slept a lot on the plane. We arrived about 1:30 p.m. in San Juan. One of the first things we learned about Puerto Rico is that it is against the law to smoke in the airport (the signs are all over) and this is known as law number 41. We thought it was quaint that they number the laws, and were impressed that the non-smoking ordinance was important enough to be one of the first 40 laws they had passed there.

We soon learned that the anti-smoking was number 41, not because it was one of their first laws, but because it was probably the last law they passed there. (In the United States, we probably passed 41 laws while we were on the plane to San Juan!) If there are driving laws, most people don’t follow them. You can park anywhere – on sidewalks or in the middle of the street. You can turn left from any lane. You can use the shoulder as an extra lane. Even the places where they actually have lines to identify the lanes are just general guidelines. No one is expected to stay in his own lane.

We also learned that it is not wise to be in a hurry there. Or to expect accurate estimates of how long it takes to drive anywhere. The only rule: it takes a long time to get anywhere. It also didn’t help that we made dozens of wrong turns on the way to the hotel. After we got there, we walked to the beach by our hotel and went swimming. The water was warm! Warmer than I remember Hawaii being. Mary and Carl also discovered that this particular beach had a lot of insects that liked them. (We later learned that these little bugs are called “mimis” by the locals.)

We played bridge for awhile. Since the TV reception was so bad, the hotel told us could watch any of the pay movies for free, so we watched “French Kiss” in blue and white.

Wednesday, August 2

Rain forest day. We were told it would take us about 35 minutes to get there. After an hour, we were to the highway turnoff for the rain forest. See my comments on Tuesday about time. We enjoyed this day a lot. Amanda was disappointed that there were not any exotic animals to see, but other than that, it was spectacular. We hiked on one trail down to a waterfall. It rained so hard on us that we were soaked. They get 200 inches of rain a year in the rain forest. We fixed a picnic lunch there, took some pictures and drove home. We only made one dozen wrong turns getting home.

We played bridge that night, since the TV was still not working very well. In order to get a taste of Puerto Rican culture, we ordered some local food – pizza with cheese-filled crust from Pizza Hut.

Thursday, August 3


We drove to Luquillo Beach, a public beach lined with palm trees and white sand. We put on so much sun tan lotion that no one got sunburned. The water was warm as usual, but there were no waves at all. It was a nice beach, but not worth the one hour drive. We only went there because the travel brochures all call it the prettiest beach on the island. We ate at a Sizzler-type restaurant that night called “Bonanza.” Amanda got sick in the middle of the night. A coincidence? I think not.

The hotel made up for the first two days by putting us in a “suite.” It had two separate rooms and we enjoyed the extra space. We had considered moving to the Marriott for a little more money, but now we were happy to stay at the Radisson Ambassador.


Friday, August 4

We toured Old San Juan. Since parking places are hard to come by (there is only so much sidewalk to park on), we walked everywhere once we found a parking place. The streets were old and narrow, many of them cobblestone. We enjoyed looking at the old fort, San Cristobal, and ate at an authentic Puerto Rican restaurant recommended by one of the locals.

Saturday, August 5

This was our day off. We slept in until 11 a.m., then went to the beach which was in front of the Marriott hotel. This was the best beach we went to on our whole trip. The waves were strong enough for adults to enjoy, but mild enough that Amanda had not problem being with us in the water. Then again, she is a very good swimmer and pretty brave about the ocean.

This time, we weren’t as fastidious about putting on suntan lotion, and some of us got pretty burned. We came back to the hotel and took naps. Then, in an effort to soak in some more Puerto Rican culture, we ordered some pizza with cheese-filled crust from the local Pizza Hut. We watched “The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill, But Came Down a Mountain.”

Sunday, August 6

The closest church we could find was about an hour away, so we decided to read articles to each other from Church magazines as we went for a drive west of San Juan. There was a nice toll road for much of the way. We left the main highway to drive along the beach near Arecibo. It was beautiful and ugly at the same time. The beach and trees and bushed were beautiful. The poverty among the people living out there was sad to see.

We stopped at a remote beach to picnic and walked away from our car to set things up on a table there. Unfortunately, we left the car unlocked and two guys drove up and took everything that was left in the car – our camera (with all of our pictures of our trip in it), a suitcase full of our towels and swimsuits, Carl’s backpack and Mary’s belly bag (with her driver’s license, credit cards and some cash in it.) They had been chased off by some other people