Puerto Rico Ramblin’s
“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.
Tags: Puerto Rico, Travel
