Travels With Stu

As I emerged from the bus and was blinded by the noon Puerto Rican sun, I had one thought cross my mind…”WOW! I’m a really lucky guy!” I could have easily been in New York with it’s cold weather and grey skies, but I was standing near a pier in Old San Juan looking at one of Carnival’s massive cruise ships and the sun basking down on me. Life could be worse.

I flipped open my LP (Lonely Planet) and turned immediately to the page with the Old San Juan Walking tour and made my way to my first destination, La Casita. La Casita is a yellow building for tourists to get information. I usually wouldn’t care much for this type of building but I was in desperate need of a car because I didn’t have any plans past my first two days in PR and needed a car to really have a good time. I inquired about prices and different shops with one of the women working at the Tourist desk in La Casita, and she called a few places but no one had a car available for the week, except for this one place - El Rento Cheapo Caros For Americanos- and they had a car for a reasonable price. I thanked the woman for her help and headed towards the rental shop, where I was told that I may be able to have a car by Monday, but no guarantees. The price of the car was extremely reasonable, around $40 for the day, but the woman sounded extremely uncertain, but I left with high hopes and continued my walking tour of Old San Juan.

I headed down Paseo de la Princesa to check out its market stands, but there wasn’t much open for some reason so I made my way to the end of the “Paseo” towards the Raices fountain. The fountain was a “typical” fountain. It had flowing/shooting water and horses and beautiful women and strong men. Every fountain has this assortment plus some fish hidden somewhere, but it was still really nice looking. I then realized that I had somehow already messed up my walking tour and backtracked back down Princesa and checked out La Aduana (the Customs House - a really large pink building) and El Arsenal - a large building located alongside La Princesa.

I turned the corner past the fountain and immediately fell in love with what I was seeing - unfortunately it wasn’t a woman. It was a walking path along the Bahia de San Juan - a body of water - and I oddly felt as if I were walking along a similar looking footpath in Brooklyn which I discovered this September, however, Manhattan wasn’t across the water…but the Bacardi factory was! I tried to find a museum but got hopelessly lost and ended up near the Catedral de San Juan - a cathedral that I was supposed to pass much further in my walk. I wasn’t sure if I had become rusty with my walks or if San Juan was a complicated walking city, but I usually didn’t have this many problems during my walks.

I backtracked…again…and passed the plazuela de la Rogativa, a sculpture placed in the center of this garden plaza…very nice. I walked up a brick street and passed the Casa Rosa - Pink House- which was a war relic but now looked like a child’s playpen with ladders, swings, toy cars and plenty of other children’s accessories. Strange transformation.

The next section of my walk through Old San Juan was by far my favorite. I entered a large grassy field where I saw handfuls of people scattered over 20 acres or so and the the large and intimidating fort - El Morro - in the not too far distance. I actually felt as if I could’ve been in the UK walking barefoot through the fields with the water surrounding me on my left and right. I wanted to lay in the grass and stop thinking about everything and anything on my mind, but I had a lot to still see, but I spent an hour walking the grounds and opted not to pay the admission fee to see El Morro since I wasn’t interested in the museum they had placed in the castle. If they were giving live demonstrations on what they did with the inmates I’d pay plenty of money for that…but not another museum.

I saw some couples walking around, talking and doing what couples do and thought that they must be having a good time and decided not to bother any of them to ask them to take my picture. I left Campo del Morro (the field) and headed towards some larger buildings opposite the El Morro - the Escuela de Artes Plasticas (an insane asylum) and Instituto de Cultura Puertorriquena which was unfortunately closed on Sunday but is supposed to have exhibits and gardens. I dodged skateboarders in the Parque de Beneficencia - a small park - and walked around La Casa Blanca (the White House) which was nothing like it’s American namesake. There was a garden and some buildings, but they were closed.

I passed La Plaza de San Jose which had Iglesia de San Jose (a church) and a convent before taking a longer walk down Norzagaray - San Juan’s slum street. Some guy walked up to me and handed me a flyer for his restaurant down the street guaranteeing me the “best deal” in Old San Juan, as I nodded to him and continued my stroll towards San Juan’s second fort - Fuerte San Cristobal. I also had to pay for this fort, but opted not to because I thought I saw everything it had to offer from the ticket entrance and headed towards a completely different section of the city.

Plaza de Colon was decked out in Christmas decorations and was bustling with tourists/residents walking along Calle San Francisco and Tetuan. On these two streets you could find any restaurant you could possibly desire and an assortment of gifts. I looked into a few restaurants LP suggested before deciding on Tio Danny’s. I ordered some steak dish that had three sides and was very impressed with the size of the plate. I paid around $15 for my meal (with tip) and left satiated and pleased. I was getting a little tired by this time and took a longer time eating my meal than usual, but I had been walking in humid weather for a few hours and needed a little break.

Although I had passed the majority of the sights on the walk, I still walked for another hour or two checking out another glitzy Plaza - Plaza de Armas - the Catedral de San Juan and the Parque de las Palomas before heading back to the bus station. I saw the A5 bus leaving when I got to the station and desperately waved my hand for it to stop in hopes of not having to wait a few hours to get back to the hotel - and for some reason, the driver stopped and I got in a relaxed on my ride home.

I was greeted by my family with mixed reviews since I had been gone most of the day and hadn’t spent it with them, nor had I called anyone during my walk. They had already eaten dinner so I munched on some left overs and hoped that I’d be able to figure out what I was going to do the next day in PR. The first day was solid - I got the beach and a run in, walked around Old San Juan - but I thought that once I got into my traveling stride, the days would become even more exciting.

“BAGELS!!! BAGELS!!!,” I heard my brother screaming from our room at 8AM. “BAGELS!!! FRESH BAGELS AND CREAM CHEESE!” he was yelling from a few feet away. We had been in Puerto Rico for less than 12 hours and he was already pulling all-nighters, and was drunk.

I woke up thinking, “Finally, a vacation after six weeks of work.” I understand this is a ridiculous statements to many people, if not most, in the real world, but for me, I need to get away from it all every now and then. It’s what keeps my life exciting and keeps me composed. It helps me realize that there’s more to life than work, and worrying about work, women, my family, and everything else that one deals with at 22.

I grabbed my LP “Puerto Rico” and skimmed through their suggested itineraries and quickly realized I’d need a rental car in order to do anything on the island. This would be a new challenge…a new adventure. I had only “rented” one other mode of transportation during my travels, and that wasn’t necessarily a perfect experience. When Matt and I were on the island of Ko Phagnan off of Thailand, we rented a motorbike - which Matt drove and I sat on back because I can’t ride a bike - and even though it made our time on Ko Phagnan incredible, we had a few accidents with the bike. I attempted to drive it because I wanted to prove to myself and Matt that riding a bike wasn’t all that difficult, but failed miserably, denting the rear view mirror which would end up costing money, and tearing up my leg a little. I quickly ran to a nearby pharmacy - what luck - and got something to clean out the wound. I was a little terrified about contracting a life-threatening illness in SE Asia. We had one other incident when Matt left the dirt track from our bungalow to get on the road and the tire lost friction and I was flung into the middle of the road with oncoming traffic and dodged a truck (I really need to write about that trip…it was insane). So I had rough memories from renting on my SE Asia trip, plus there was the concern of paying for the damages on the bike…Yikes!

However, I definitely couldn’t sit at the Isla Verde beach for a week and do nothing…that would be extremely painful. For my mom, and the rest of my family, that’s a perfectly reasonable vacation…for me…that’s unbearable torture. I grabbed a few plates full of the Embassy Suite’s (ES) complimentary breakfast and headed over to the beach with my brother as the rest of the fam made their way to the pool. The beach is across the street from our hotel and no more than an eight minute walk.

Rob and I laid out a couple towels, put on some sunscreen and then Rob passed out immediately. It was a quite disturbing image to see him sprawled on the beach…half of his body on the towel, the other half on the sand…completely inebriated. I threw off my sandals and looked over myself thinking I was too white, and needed some color before returning to NY in a week. I have never been a sunbather, and probably never will be, at least on vacation. Ira and Joe would disagree with me on that last statement because I spent many a Spring days at Kenyon basking in our front yard soaking in the sun, but I had no commitments in my life other than…well other than nothing. I actually was living in complete bliss during the final eight weeks at Kenyon. School was essentially over, I barely had any work, I was looking for jobs, but that wasn’t new, I was experiencing a really enjoyable relationship, coaching YMCA soccer, hosting a radio show, and well I had a girlfriend (again) that put me on cloud nine…oh I was also in top physical shape because of my marathon and had no problems walking, and laying around shirtless. I wanted to look better for Suz.

So I sunbathed at Kenyon occasionally, to keep the post-college life off of my mind, once in Israel, and once when Suz visited me in NY. I’m not a sunbather…I like to be more active, so I asked my mom if it was OK if I rented a car which she didn’t have any problems with.

I wanted to first see Old San Juan since it had been year’s since I’d been in Puerto Rico, and I didn’t remember anything about the city. I didn’t even remember walking around the city, so I grabbed my murse and headed to the bus stop to catch the A5 bus. Apparently there was no time difference between taking a cab/bus, but the cost difference was ($20/$0.75)..I’m not made of money and opted for the bus. Plus the bus would give me an interesting cultural insight.

When walking to the bus stop I saw an A5 leaving the stop but was nowhere near the stop to haul it down, but assumed another one wouldn’t be too far behind. I found a place on the bench and took out my book - “A Walk In the Woods” - and started to read. After waiting an hour I thought something was terribly wrong. I returned to the hotel somewhat frustrated, and learned that the bus is scheduled to arrive every 15 minutes, and left for the pool to say hi to my mom.

“You don’t want to sit by the pool with us?” mom asked sweetly, and I felt bad telling her that I couldn’t just lay around. I don’t even get to see my family that often, and here I am trying to get away from Isla Verde. It had nothing to do with not wanting to be with them. I just wanted to stay active/busy and enjoy my vacation and I wouldn’t enjoy it sitting around a pool. I could do that anywhere…”Sorry mom,” I replied. “I can’t just sit on my ass for a week and do nothing.”

I returned to my bench and waited fifteen minutes before seeing “A5″ on a bus as my heart leaped. “Finally,” I thought. “It’s only been an hour and a half” as I saw the time as 12:30.

“Where to son?” the bus driver asked me as I got my change ready.

“Old San Juan, sir.” I responded with a huge smile across my face.

“No, no,” the driver covered the coin acceptor with his hand, and I became confused why I wasn’t being accepted. “The other side…” his finger was pointing across the street. “Old San Juan is on the other side.” I sighed and thanked him with a “muchos gracias” and crossed the street to join a crowd of five people waiting for the A5. I thought to myself, “Yep, this is what it’s like to travel,” as I recollected the numerous hours I’ve spent at bus stops, train stations, airports, ferry terminals and every other transportation hub. Traveling definitely takes time.

I luckily found a seat on the bus when it finally arrived and I was sweating profusely from the mid-day heat. I was on the line separating the seats from the “old people/handicap” and the “regular” people, so I wasn’t sure what etiquette I was to follow, but decided that I had waited long enough that I deserved a seat on the air-conditioned bus. The bus whipped around side streets and what appeared to be run down neighborhoods, and after thirty minutes or so and a chapter of my book, I arrived at the port of Old San Juan.

I had had a rough day at work at Scholastic not because I had done anything wrong, but after six weeks of working I was told that my services would no longer be necessary after my trip to Puerto Rico. ... [Continue reading this entry]