Puerto Rico – Part Two

By the time we exited the main highway bisecting San Juan and crossed the causeway between the beachfront high-rises of the fashionable Candado section of town and motored cautiously into Old San Juan, I was feeling pretty comfortable about squeeze car driving, and the constant honking of horns had become mere background noise.

We had booked a room at the Sheraton Old San Juan Hotel and Casino located along the El Malecón waterfront on the southern edge of Old San Juan.  As with so many other seaside cities, glamming-up the inner harbor is a proven way to attract tourists. Knock down the dive bars and docks where Bluto and his buddies used to work and party hardy, and then replace it all with a fancy promenade lined with big sculptures, a cruise ship terminal, trendy shops like Ralph Lauren and the Harley Davidson Boutique, some upscale town homes, a few high-rise luxury hotels, and a Señor Frog’s, and you are off to the races.

 

It was hard to miss the tall yellow building at the water’s edge plastered with a bright red Sheraton sign, but finding the valet entrance up a side alley took a bit of hunting.  It was three o’clock on the button, check-in time, and therein lies a valuable travel lesson.  Most people these days book their hotel reservations on-line through Expedia or Travelocity, where they make you run through the standard menu of single, Queen, room with a view, smoking or non-smoking, and you book the deal that’s best for you, thinking that’s what you will find when you arrive.  The room you actually end up with is based solely on two factors: availability and when you get there.  If you arrive early, like we did, they will give you the best room they have, which at that point is usually most of the hotel.  We came early, so we got a better room – someone else’s room.  We had booked a ground floor interior room because that was all that was available when we made our reservation at the last minute, but we ended up with a eighth floor room with a balcony overlooking the harbor.

 

And here’s another travel tip.  When you check in after a long flight, you are usually pretty brain dead and often forget to ask the right questions, like about upgrading your room.  Always ask for an upgrade.  And if you are an early arrival, the chances are you will end up with a better room than you had bargained for.

Coming from the worst winter ever to lush green plants, bright flowers, and blue water was like landing in Paradise.  It was a joy to behold as we stood on our lofty balcony, taking in the sights and sounds.  Annapolis seemed a million miles away.

After unpacking and donning our summer clothes, we decided to stroll around the old city and grab an early dinner.  Old San Juan is one of our favorite places, like stepping back into old Spain, and we love to walk its narrow cobblestone streets.  The city was awash in color: little pink houses; yellow and green apartment buildings with tall arched windows, framing brown louvered shutters; blue brick streets; aged white plaster walls; and narrow balconies just wide enough for a person to stand, adorned with flowers and jungle plants, enclosed with ornate wrought iron railings similar to the ones you might see on Bourbon Street in New Orleans.  Horse drawn carriages clip-clopped along the quiet streets while costumed musicians played for tips. The book stalls and vendors in Paseo Portuario were doing a lively business as students in their black pants and black t-shirts practiced some bouncy school dance across from a pink pillbox bank.  ALL schools in the Caribbean require uniforms and each school is recognized by their colors.  The locals sauntered by, the men in long, baggy shorts, white tank tops, cool shades and crowned with the signature Puerto Rican head gear, the Pork Pie Hat (which now comes in every color and style imaginable); and the women sashayed along in their flower print dresses, talking a mile a minute in Spanish and laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world.

 

We stopped for a beer at Calmado Bar Mareno, one of the many outdoor cafes near the San Cristobal Castle (fort) on the east side of the old world city.  Medalla beer is the favorite local beer and the eighty-degree sunshine made it taste like cold nectar.  We shared a shrimp appetizer as milky white tourists passed by, playing with their cellphones, snapping pictures, and gaping at the endlessly captivating surroundings.

It had been a whirlwind day and after a few beers we settled into a nice groove.  We strolled through the trendy shopping district along Fortaleza Street and then back down San Francisco Street, lined with Old World beauty unrivaled in the New.  It being a Tuesday in the early evening, there wasn’t much happening and the streets were almost empty.  We stopped to sit on a bench in the Plaza La Barandilla where the students from Carlos Albrizu Universitybustled by laden with books and laptops.  The school is a private non-profit college, offering graduate and undergraduate degrees in psychology, business, and education, with satellite campuses in Doral and Miami Florida, for those wanting to flee the impending disaster that is Puerto Rico.

 

I’m going to discuss at some later point the whole road to financial ruin that Puerto Rico is heading down, but this was our first night in town and all seemed right with the world.

As the sun began to set we stumbled upon the El Asador – The grill Old San Juan, which claimed to serve the best seafood in town.  The place itself was charming, like dining in Barcelona.  The food was – well, let’s just say it did the trick, but was probably not the best in town.  The setting more than made up for anything lacking in the culinary department.  We dined in an open doorway, marveling again at the shiny, dark blue bricks of the street, and the eye candy architecture.  We were the only people in the place and the wait staff were there when we needed them, and left us alone when we didn’t.  Over the mahogany bar, a small television broadcast the Winter Olympics from Sochi, Russia, where athletes were cross country skiing and luging down bobsled runs like rockets.  A warm sea breeze blew in from the nearby harbor, a faint aroma of salt air mixed with spicy food, and Inna and I toasted our great escape.

Most of the people on the planet Earth could never experience what we had done over the past twelve hours.  And I think we often take such amazing gifts for granted …