Vieques: From Outlaws, to Navymen, Tourists and Now Us

BACK-STORY: We were perusing house-sitting jobs earlier in the year during a short house-sit in New Zealand when we came across the advertisement for this house-sit in Puerto Rico. By then we'd done a number of small house-sits to support our travels and since we had become free of obligations we decided to try the experience of a much longer assignment. We wanted some adventure, to travel but not spend too much money, and to not have to go back to mundane jobs just yet. We looked across the world and in the end were choosing between two house-sits: one in Scotland and one in Puerto Rico. It doesn't take a scientist to work out why we chose PR!

Yet besides the warm weather and exotic beaches there was a deeper reason why we ended up choosing Puerto Rico - and it is probably precisely the reason most people wouldn't choose it.

Ok so Puerto Rico, like most other Central American/Carribean countries is not a wealthy nation. Strip away all the glitzy resorts and it's not that appealing to a lot of people. And it goes without saying we wouldn't be inhabiting that tourist-coloured world; for one, this guy in the advertisement didn't paint the prettiest picture of the assignment. He was adamant it'd be a tough gig, looking after a small 'farm' in an isolated area with limited infrastructure.

This is the house in the middle towards the foreground (Click to enlarge).

Excerpt from a post on my New Zealand blog http://chasnatnz.blogspot.com/ when we were trying to decide on which house-sit to do:

...the owner is doing his best to make it out to be some Survivor-like challenge! He talks about 'survival' and 'perserverence' and 'ingenuity,' and I quote: 

"This house sit is not a picnic by the pool. It will require individuals who are in excellent physical shape, because when we say 10-12 hours work [per week], we mean real hard work. Mowing for hours on some tricky steep hillsides. Fixing equipment and knowing how to use tools. If a vehicle is not working you may need to know what to do to fix it or you will be stranded. The apartment is not very large. If this does not deter you let me know."

It certainly wouldn't be as dependable as Scotland - and this was our defining factor. Dependability was, for us in this case, well...boring. We figured, if you're going to go on an adventure, you might as well make it a real one. I mean, it was grand enough to have it's own house-sitter's apartment. It also had a large orchard of fruit trees, bananas, mangoes, avocadoes etc that would be at our disposal. He even said we could sell some in town to make a little bit of cash. This didn't sound so bad, did it? 

So we took the job.

It turned out the house-sit was actually on a small island off of the mainland called Vieques.

Vieques?

We didn't even know this place existed, that Puerto Rico even had islands of it's own, before finding the house-sit. Without looking into it we could only assume that Vieques, being it's own enclave, would be much like Puerto Rico the mainland, but on a whole different level. What kind of level, that we did not know. So we learnt what we could from the internet.

Vieques has a colourful history and stands out for three prominent reasons, both good and bad:

• Beaches - supposedly some of the best, sandy white, secluded beaches in the Caribbean. Since the navy owned a majority of it till 2003, it hasn't been developed.
• Bombing - the navy used it as a weapons testing ground until they were evicted in 2003. 
• Bioluminescent Bay - one of only a few in the world. The luminescence is caused by micro-organisms (dinoflagellates) which glow whenever the water is disturbed, leaving a trail of neon blue.

We tried to keep an open mind about the place. Most things pointed to how wonderful and exotic the place was but we know that sometimes reality can be a little different. We also made sure to google what dangers there might be and from this we found a contrasting view, nothing real bad, mostly to do with petty theft - don't leave valuables lying around or in your car, for example. I read more than once to not even bother locking your car doors and in fact roll the windows down and leave the glove box open so they can see there's nothing there! This seemed extreme, yet still relatively harmless. Overall it sounded like it was reasonably safe much to my relief, just a very poor island with rampant uneployment. My biggest fear, funnily enough, was not being able to drink the water, like in Mexico, but that was put to rest the minute we arrived in Old San Juan, (though it's usually still filtered for drinking).

It was evident this would not be all sunflowers and roses despite my daydreams of sitting by the beach sipping piña coladas (originally margaritas, but then I found out rum is the national drink). But whilst I knew it was going to be different and perhaps tough (and 6 months is quite a long time), this was something not to pass up. Plus, the lure of unlimited mangoes, avocadoes, bananas, crystal clear beaches, Spanish culture...need I say more?

So lets have a closer look at Vieques:

GEOGRAPHY: Vieques lies about 8 miles (13 km) to the east of the Puerto Rican mainland, and measures approximately 21 miles (34 km) long by 4 miles (6 km) wide. The two main towns of Vieques are Isabel Segunda, the administrative center located on the northern side of the island, and Esperanza, located on the southern side. At peak, the population of Vieques is around 10,000. (Wikipedia)

Along with it's cousin, Culebra, it has been given the label of 'Spanish Virgin Islands' for it proximity to the US and British Virgin Island chains and it's similar physical features.

CLIMATE: Vieques has a warm, relatively dry, tropical to sub-tropical climate. Temperatures usually stay around a balmy average daily maxima of 80°F (26°C) to 89°F (31°C) and rainfall averages around 45 to 55 inches (115 to 140 cm) per year, with the months of May and September–November receiving the most. The rest of the year remains pretty dry. The western part of the island also receives a higher amount of rainfall than the eastern part.

HISTORY: The island's past might reveal a lot about the Viequense identity. For the first 300 years of Spanish settlement Vieques was not colonised, nor was it even formally a part of Spanish Puerto Rico (yet it was safeguarded from any attempts at foreiners to seize it). So for 300 years it behaved as a "lawless outpost, frequented by pirates and outlaws".  It was not formally established until 1843, and finally annexed to Puerto Rico in 1854. So you get the feeling that there must be a sense of detachment and libertinism underpinning the character of this community.  

Vieques prior to the 2001 land transfer

When the Americans procured the territory from the Spanish the Viequenses had built for themselves a nice little industry based on sugarcane. Before the Navy moved in several large mills were in operation and as is typical, these were owned by a handful of powerful families, as was the land in general. The proletariat settled on this land but had no title to it. When the navy appropriated two-thirds of the land by buying out the landowners, the settlers were displaced and angry.

The navy's original purpose for the land was to provide a safe haven for the British fleet and sovereign should it fall to Nazi Germany. A number of bunkers were built for this purpose, although it was never needed as such. After the war, the US Navy continued to use the island for military exercises, and as a firing range and testing ground for bombs, missiles, and other weapons much to the indignation of the Viequense people. After a series of protests, lobbying, and an alleged fatal accident involving a mis-directed missile, the Navy finally left in 2003.

The navy has forever cast a shadow over Vieques, even in it's absense. Not only did it lead to the demise of the sugarcane and agricultural industry but much land is still off-limits, and probably always will be. Under the guise of a "wildlife refuge", this land has been supposedly turned into a sanctum for native birds and animals and cordoned off from the public. While clean-up has become one of the island's biggest employers it is ironically not as high as when the naval base was functioning.

With the navy gone and land opened up to the masses, including a number of idyllic beaches that were previously on navy-land, entreprenuers have seen the potential of this undeveloped gold-mine and Vieques is now being promoted as an ecotourism hotspot, a "sleepy, unspoiled island of rural 'old world' charm and pristine deserted beaches". (Wikipedia) 

It seems the travel industry is climbing all over itself with excitement about the possibilities of exploiting this island. While the wildlife refuge holts any large development of the beaches, the vogue of 'ecotourism' and the need to see "the Caribbean's last secret*" will be the key ingredients for luring customers to a place that is ultimately rather primitive. Words like natural, unaffected, and authentic punctuate tourist brochures and reviews. In real estate jargon they'd call it "a blank canvas", which it really kind of is. The fact is, while most of the islands in the Caribbean are now overcrowded and overdone, this unspoilt island is the last frontier of the Caribbean; a rare find of deserted beaches and untouched coral reefs that doesn't seem possible - and yet, we have the navy to thank for that.

So the media is onboard, but what about the tourists; are people lapping it up? Shermans Travel calls it "the most accessible 'uncharted territory' in the Caribbean". I guess if you want to get away from it all, or be a modern-day explorer, this would be the place to come. But I never was a trail-blazer and it's got me wondering just how far away from it all is it? While "sleepy" and "rural" sound nice in a holiday brochure, I'm not sure how well that suits me for day-to-day living. What civilities does the place have to offer?

To my delight, the media is also singing about new restaurants, bars and hotels sprouting up all over Vieques, from casual beachside eateries to fine-dining establishments. There's also galleries of resident artists and businesses offering tours like kayaking and snorkeling. A peruse of maps.google.com even pinpoints an outdoors store within the modest grid that denotes the little town of Isabel Segunda. That's music to my ears, a little cultivation is all I need to enjoy my stay on this island.

So on the eve of our foray into the unknown I was feeling nervous but optimistic. We had stayed in close contact with Eric, the home-owner, since our initial request and his emails became more promising as they went on. He sent us a video of an exhibition he'd staged of his work as an artist and said the fruit trees and vegetables were coming to maturity despite the drought they'd been having. We will spend a couple of days with Eric, getting to know the ins-and-outs of the property and familiarising ourselves with the island's amenities, before he jets off and we are left to our own devices and with this crazy Caribbean island at our disposal.

But first, we had to get this darn ferry.

All-in-all, good or bad, it will be an adventure of a lifetime.

------------------------------
*Source: Time Magazine

Driving to Luquillo: A Lesson in Puerto Rican Road Food

So have you gotten the idea I like Old San Juan yet?

Well, it was finally time to leave this beautiful city, after all, we were over here for a certain engagement; ah yes, the house-sit. We had to get to Fajardo (pronounced Fa-har-doe), on the east side of the island to catch the ferry to Vieques. We had allowed ourselves a whole day to get there and had arranged to couchsurf overnight in Luquillo, a surf town near Fajardo, before catching the ferry the next morning. Once you leave the major cities, couchsurfers are few and far between in Puerto Rico. We were lucky to find someone nearby.

We could've spent a truckload of money and flew straight to Vieques but of course that was out of the question. Instead, there was a ferry that left from Fajardo for Vieques that cost only $2 one-way. But how to get there? Our options were taxi, car rental or public transport. Taxi or rental car were cheaper than a flight, but still more expensive than we wanted to pay. We decided to keep them as a back-up plan. There are no buses or trains in Puerto Rico outside the major cities, instead, to get around the island cheaply but slowly, we'd have to take the público - a shared taxi.

This was a new concept to me. I was confused about exactly what it was, let alone how much it cost and or if we'd have to take more than one. Information was fairly vague: "private vehicles that transport groups of people between city centres. It is possible, albeit difficult, to travel to many cities using publicos alone" said "Let's Go" Travel Guide. They also warned to be prepared to spend several hours waiting' publicos will only leave when there are enough passengers and will also stop to pick up passengers along a semi-flexible route. Prices ranged from $5 - $60 depending on which information you believed, but all sources agreed you must allow four hours - for a typically one hour drive. These formidable fragments of information were disconcerting; I had visions of  Kathleen Turner on that ratty old bus in Romancing the Stone when she realises she's on the wrong bus. I was nervous, but I was willing.

As luck would have it, our hero Ali came to the rescue and offered to drive us! He was adamant that we not take the público and to that I was truly thankful and very much relieved. He'd only just gotten his car back from the mechanic after months without it too. Even more generously, he was going to take us sightseeing along the way, and little did we know, we were in for a Puerto Rican Taste Extravaganza. Of course, his gorgeous little dog Ozi would also come along for the ride. So the four of us set out early in the morning on this last Saturday in April headed east.

Driving out of the city walls I was reminded again that the greater area of San Juan was nothing much to look at; a grittier version of a typical American city. Large billboards, flashy chain restaurants, and storefronts brandishing garish bars screamed at me from all directions. Bars on windows, doors, balconies - any opening, would be a common fixture from here on out. Litter would also be a huge concern. 

Soon enough we left the modern world behind (but not the trash) and entered backwoods (or backjungle)-country along Road 187, which weaves along the coastline. As we followed the road we soon entered into a thick black haze. Though there was no need to be alarmed, it was smoke burning from outdoor grills.

They lined the road in succession, their operators huddled under what could only be described as swelteringly hot marquees, churning out Pinchos (kebabs) on open flames. Further along, the same thing was happening but the haze was wafting out of open-air shacks on dusty streets; the insides charred permanently black. No fire laws here I guess. And you wouldn't want to be predisposed of a lung condition.

We were driving through the town of Loiza, the self-proclaimed Traditional Heart of Puerto Rico.

The place looked, I hate to say, terrible; like a war-zone. Apart from the soot, litter seemed to tumble out of the shop-fronts and could be seen strewn as far as the eye could see. Buildings were dilapidated; scorched. It was actually welcoming to see advertising banners, the only colour and zeal to liven up the place. It was sad really, because there was much potential to be had and it was definitely a cultural experience. Puerto Rican street food is a insitution unto itself, and the people have turned it into an enterprise, establishing carts, tents, shacks or anything on a road, path or beach accompanied by any kind of invention of a grill or deep-fryer. We'd soon find they are ubiquitous all over Puerto Rico, and cheap. But thankfully we didn't stop here; we'd stop somewhere a little less asthma-inducing.
(* See end of post for update)

Next we went off road, hitting the sand dunes; well, sand roads really. Bumping along faster than I was comfortable with over sandy tracks carved through palm and seagrape trees.  Ozi was going nuts wanting to get out and run around; he was actually crying, it was pitiful! So we stopped at one of these secluded beaches and Ali and Ozi went for a run. The beach would've been really nice had trash not been customarily sprinkled about. You wonder what one thinks when they do this to their own piece of paradise. While Ali gave a bit of an explanation when he said that there was a large problem with stray dogs and that they tear people's garbage apart, sitting on the beach, observing beer cans and the like clustered about, I couldn't help but think it was mostly a human problem.

There are plenty of blind turn-offs on this stretch of road to pull into the sand dunes and take a swim. Just don't pull in too far and get stuck like some people we saw on the way out! Back on the sealed road we were about to turn inland when Ali started getting thirsty; he was craving Mavi. We looked at him perplexed. And his explanation left us no more satisfied. The roadside shop we stopped at was part fruit and veg shop, part deli, general store and seafood market (live blue-swimmer crabs were on display in a cage out front) all in one. Amongst that they also sold fresh puerto rican juices. Mavi (Mauby in other parts of the Caribbean) is the juice extracted from the bark of the Mavi or Colubrina tree mixed with sugar and spices. Doesn't sound so great, does it? Chase and I sampled Ali's before deciding to reject it completely. It was kind of interesting, a little like root beer (originally from the root of the sassafras tree, a common carbonated drink in the States), but it was a bit strong and funky for our liking. Chase got a fresh coconut water instead - straight from the coconut itself; all they do is pop the top off, jab in a straw and away you go, coconut and all. It's called Coco Frio, the water from a cold, green coconut. He liked it, but I thought it a bit weak. It was definitely just like water with only a hint of coconut. Though while drinking it he remarked that he couldn't tell how much was left because the coconut itself was so heavy. 



  Chase with his Coco Frio and Ali with his Mavi juice

Just before we stopped in the tourist mecca of Luquillo we stopped in the Luquillo for Puerto Ricans. A long row of restaurants and takeway shacks, known as The Kiosks, line a street just off of Route 3 and sit just back from the beach. As soon as we pulled in I could tell it was very much a locals place, a place where I probably wouldn't have stopped on our own, but travelling with Ali I wasn't worried at all. We started off at the east end and a endless row of back-to-back shops unfurled before us. Of course, they didn't have the best curb appeal but they looked nicer than anything else we'd seen so far this day, much nicer. It was a feast for the senses and the palate. We refrained from stuffing our stomachs and our arteries, mostly we just admired all kinds of fried food and traditional Puerto Rican stews and rices behind glass windows - like perusing a living museum of Puerto Rican culture.

Walking along a rainbow of coloured buildings it seemed the further along we went down the line the nicer and more elaborate they got; starting with nothing more than a takeaway counter and culminating in a full blown restuarant. Most were something in-between and most of them sold the exact same thing. It had a really casual, beachy vibe about it, some even had stools up at window counters for customers. Most shops had openings on either side, from the road/car park side through to the beach side, usually with patio seating on the latter.

Puerto Rican fried food is a variant on many Caribbean and Spanish concoctions and it is a fried cuisine completely unlike anything I've seen. Called Frituras, they have long things, round things, cone things, pancake things...the list goes on. I'll give you a quick run-down of these and some other Cocina Criolla, traditional PR foods, we discovered during our tour.

Bacalaitos or Bacalao: are the large flat round things which look like potato scallops. They are a deep-fried mixture of shredded salt-cod fish and batter.

Relleno de papa: is a deep fried ball of mashed potato with a ground meat filling.

Taquitos: these are tortillas rolled tightly and deep fried till they are crisp, usually with some kind of filling.

Pastelillos/Pastellos: Somewhat like an empanada or pasty, but with a more thin and flaky dough. They contain all kinds of fillings; ground beef, pork, chicken, seafood etc. 

Alcapurrias: made from a doughy mixture of mashed up tropical tubers and root vegetables, usually yautía (like a taro) but can contain ground squash, plantains and green banana. It is filled with ground meat or seafood and deep fried in oil (photo right). 

Surullitos: are the golden fried finger-shaped things. They are made from cornmeal, almost like a corndog without the sausage.

Canoas de Platanos - sweet plantain "canoes" stuffed with ground meat and covered with melted cheese. These looked delicious and creative - the things they do with a plantain around here! (Picture right).   

Tostones: These are those flattened and fried green plantains, usually served as a side, that I was telling you about in an earlier post.

 

Arroz con habichuelas: rice and red beans - the Puerto Rican staple. It is simmered with ham hock and Puerto Rican spices. Traditionally stewed with vegetables for a hearty meal.

Piononos: two sweet plantains sandwiched around a savory filling, usually a ground meat mixture called picadillo. The whole sandwich is then deep-fried in batter. Whoa! We had to try this one, it sounded and looked so good! (Pic right).

Carne Guisada - Puerto Rican beef stew

Chase getting into his pionono, (top), and below, more dishes including sliced green bananas with onion!

Out on the beach groups of Puerto Rican families were gathered enjoying each others company and their surroundings. One group even had a boom-box hanging from a tree - ingenious. However, the weather was starting to turn. The clouds were rolling in dark and sinister-looking, turning the sea a dull blue fringed with frothy foam when it broke. Then small spats of rain began to drop. Gently at first, then suddenly it became a torrent. We were quite far from the car, having walked the length of the kiosks and then cross to the beach. We took shelter under the nearest tree but that was pointless. We made a mad dash to an abandoned patio of one of the kiosks. We were drenched head to toe. I rung out my dress. We waited. The rain didn't dissipate, if anything, it got harder.

Then we saw the saddest thing. A little black dog, maybe two years old, shivering forlornly in the corner. Shrunken and manged. I've never, in my life, seen a dog's expression look so sad. I couldn't look. There was nothing I could do, so I couldn't look. But I'll never forget the look in his eyes.

Finally, Ali took one for the team and ran back to get the car. We drove the last small stretch to our destination, passing the entrance to El Yunque National Forest, which has the only toprical rainforest in the US national rainforest system and is supposed to have a magnificent waterfall to swim at. It's a green wonderland with an expanse of feathered emerald flowing and ebbing over trees, bushes and jagged misty peaks. It's a place we'll definitely have to visit during our stay.

Luquillo lies on the north east coast of the mainland of Puerto Rico and is pronounced Lu-KEE-yo. We didn't know anything other than that it was close to Fajardo when we set out. Turns out, it's a a bit of a resort area with a number of lovely beaches, including one of the finest in the territory, and has been labelled the Puerto Rican Riviera. And to Chase's delight, it was also a surfing hot spot. But we didn't have any time to spend sightseeing or lapping up the sand and surf, it was strictly an overnighter; we had to be on the ferry the next day to meet Eric, the home-owner of our hous-sit.



Boardrider's Rum Shack Bar and Grill

We were too early to meet Coden, our couchsurfing host, so we decided to find a cafe or bar to hang out in and wait. We actually found a great place called Boardrider's Rum Shack Bar and Grill. It's across the road from Playa La Pared, the surf beach. Surfing might not be the best here but it exists and apparently it's consistent. We met the owner, Juan, a young surfer dude who walked around the restaurant bare-foot and shirtless - what a life! We asked him how long he'd been here, he said "all my life". This space we were sitting in used to be his garage that he turned into a bar! The house is upstairs, he inherited from his parents.

And I guess, where there's surf, there's an Aussie, which didn't really excite us. Of course he was half drunk and boasting about his gig working on a yacht docked at fajardo and how he was best mates with Juan and the other local surfers. But the locals were all very friendly and it was a really cosy, relaxed place, definitely the best spot to kill an hour or so. There was a small patio area out front with a few tables and a pull-up window-bar seating. I had a quesadilla and Chase had his favourite - wings. It wasn't that agreat but it didn't matter. We even came back here for dinner with Coden because the place he wanted to go - some fantastic pasta place - was closed.

Speaking of Coden, he had a great apartment overlooking the ocean with a big hammock stretching the length of his balcony. He even ordered us a taxi for the morning's ride to Fajardo!

---------------------------
*There are actually some more tourist-friendly kiosks around Loiza at a place called Piñones by the beach. Pictures show cute little beach huts in a landscaped setting with more civilised cooking techniques. They've turned this into a great little area which re-instates my faith in the rejuvination of Puerto Rico. There's a wonderful boardwalk that runs along the coast conducive to cycling and across the street the Pinones State Forest reserve has some awesome trails. I haven't been there yet, but by the pictures it looks comparative to coastal trails I've been on in New Zealand (here's hoping so!). To take a tour click here.

Eat, Drink and Be Merry in Old San Juan!

We usually eat in at our host's place whenever we couchsurf but Ali lived in a small apartment with the tiniest kitchen and being a bachelor, never cooked. But it didn't matter because San Juan had an abundance of cheap, good, local fare for us to sample, all we needed to know was where to look.

There are a few local secrets that could easily have been missed without the help of Ali. We tried to give the tourist traps and the expensive crap a miss and for the most part we succeeded. But we did get sucked in a couple of times; once at a place we just went into for two coffees and came out with an empty pocket and another time, by our own accord, when we happened upon a Ben and Jerry's - and we just couldn't resist going in. The best places, of course, were the local hangouts, and by far the cheapest -unbelievably so. You won't get fine dining or five-star service at these establishments but you will get a cozy atmosphere, a friendly attitude and delicious home-style fare.

And then there's the liquor; alcoholism could become rife in these parts. The home of rum, it is the drink of choice, cheap as chips, and the crystal and brown liquids flow like a kid down a waterslide. 

Here are the places we patronised during our stay:

Fatties: 102 O'Donnel St (between Sol and Luna Streets)

Eating at Fatties is like eating at your Puerto Rican cousins mama's house - in her cozy little kitchen. This hole-in-the-wall restaurant is only big enough to hold four tightly squeezed-in tables. Only a small sign on the door acknowledges its presence; there's no reservations, and at lunch, no menues either. Come for lunch and pull up a plastic chair, if there's one left. There's no being shy here, sit anywhere there's a chair. Luckily though, on the day we visited we were able to snag a table to ourselves. It's quite hot inside, the only relief coming from a wall-mounted fan. The decor is minimal save for a Bob Marley picture, a Jamaican flag, and a few odd bits and pieces. We did notice a photocopy of a write-up by Fodor's Travel Guide stuck to the wall which assured us we were in good hands. Reggae music pulsed through a boom box, and a telenovela (Spanish soap opera) flashed across a small TV. There was a unpretentious energy about the place.
 

The two women running the show were plump Jamiacan-Puerto Rican ladies, and they advertised a fusion of Caribbean soul food. We had the choice between two dishes, pork or chicken, straight-up (this is not the city for vegetarians). I made the big mistake of coming not so hungry and instead watched Chase devour his dish of pork chops, beans and rice with a delicious thin (but presumably fatty) sauce. Chase was kind enough to give me a bite or two before it was all gone.

We came back for dinner the next night so I could get my fill of Fatties too. We came early and there was no one there and we were surprised to be received with a real menu this time. Spoilt for choice we didn't know what to have but the young Jamaican lady gave us some great tips. She introduced herself as Shona, after Chase made a faux pas by calling her 'Ma'am'. She obviously didn't like that, but she was refresingly sincere and straight-forward, and there were no hard feelings. Chase chose the jerk chicken while I went out on a limb with the fried snapper for around $12 each. All dishes were served with rice, beans, green salad, and fried plantains.

The realisation that we weren't in a traditional restaurant then came back when she said the jerk chicken would take about a half an hour to prepare and that we could go for a wander and come back if we liked. It was great to know it was fresh on the spot, and it also gave us an opportunit to try the bar El Farolito down the road (see below). We came back livelier than ever and tucked into another delicious meal. The picture of Chase, above, says it all. 

El Batey: 101 Calle de Cristo (near El Convento)

It really is Batty! Actually, 'batey' was a strange Spanish word to figure out. It means something along the lines of 'forecourt' or is a term used for where the sugar worker's lived during plantation days. So I just decided to defer to my English example above.

We walked passed this dive bar, dimly lit with bars on the windows, and of course Chase wanted to go in and have a drink, because, as he said, "it looked 'local'". Yes, it did look local, which was precisely the reason I didn't want to go in. In Australia, it can be unwise to walk into a local's haunt - particularly when it's surrounded by cheesy tourists. But it was a great, grungy spot and the locals weren't too scary, they were at least expats. There's writing and graffiti all over the walls from head to toe, no spot untouched, and business cards hang precariously from the dingy lamp shades lining the bar. There was even a pool table, but it was occupied, and we just wanted a drink anyway.

Medalla is the local beer of choice here, (ie. cheap), and for the ladies, cocktails, of course! Forget $12-15 on one of these bad-boys, they're cheap and free-flowing around here. I went for a standard margarita (yet to get into my rum phase), and it was tasty, strong, and in this tropical climate, extremely refreshing! Ater tip and tax we still came out with change from $10! Great location too, ironically, it's just down the road from the San Juan Cathedral and El Convento Hotel!

Cafe Mallorca: 300 Calle San Francisco (opp. Plaza de la Barandilla)

This photo of Cafe Mallorca is courtesy of TripAdvisor

Step into Cafe Mallorca and you've stepped back in time - to the 60s! And the guy that serves you has been there since the 60s too. Well, not quite that long, but since big hair and shoulder pads were in style. This place is an institution, a diner like you can only dream about now, and it's a great place to grab breakfast away from the tourist crowd. It's sister to La Bonbonera, the same but more famous diner, now tainted with tourists spilling out it's doors. 

Pull up a stool at the counter and watch the old boys, dressed in smart little black waiter's jackets and matching cap, put together a meal you won't forget. Chase and Ali got the house speciality, the mallorca with ham and cheese. A mallorca is a semi-sweet, egg-based bun which originates from none other than Malloca, Spain. At this point it sounds delicious, especially with the mandatory thick layer of powdered sugar that covers the bun like snow on the top of Everest. But I'm not one for mixing sweet and savoury in such a blatant manner, and once you add the melted butter, cheese and ham, I have to opt out. I took to the front window instead, unable to make up my mind from the selection of delicious pastries that filled it's large frame. Powdered sugar flows like a blizzard within these walls, covering almost every dish, and anything that isn't can happily be righted. My pastry was good, but I should have gotten the sweet cheese one istead. Chase and Ali's sandwhich was slapped together with precise speed and presented to them open faced - with tonnes of sugar. The coffee comes "con leche" (with milk), which American's remark about because in the States it is usually black, but for me this was familiar and welcoming. Did I mention it was also dirt cheap?

El Farolito: 277 Calle de Sol, Old San Juan (across from El Jibarito)

This is by far the smallest bar I've ever seen and may just be the smallest bar in the world! Ali pointed this out one night when we were walking passed and if I didn't know what it was I would have surely missed it. It looked just like it was someone's door-step where people were hanging out, having some fun and listening to some music. We walked passed a number of times and vowed to go in but it was always packed (not hard) with people spilling out onto the street.

We finally got out our chance the night we were waiting for Auntie Fattie to cook our meal. It was quite early so it was a good time to go to get a seat. There was only one guy there besides the bartender. It looked like a great place you'd want to tend bar at, chatting one-on-one with your customers, mixing a few drinks, and there was even a chess board on the bar - maybe you could play the barman for a free drink! There was enough room for only 6 stools around the tiny bar, a tiny table squeezed in the front and a table in the dim back. A big bright mural on the wall lightened the place up and local artworks were on display. It was the coolest bar and how bars should be; quaint and intimate.

El Farolita means 'The Lantern' in Spanish.

La Fonda Del Jibarito: 280 calle de sol

Usually just called El Jibarito, this is another no-fuss, low-cost, traditional eatery along the lines of Fatties, but more of what you'd call a 'restaurant'. La Fonda means 'The Inn' and I believe El Jibarito means 'hillbilly' in Puerto Rican slang. They serve traditional "criolla" (Creole) food in a dining hall type atmosphere. Abundant chatter rises to the lofty ceilings surrounded by colourful decor drowned in Puerto Rican kitsch (though I liked the mock Old San Juan building facades lining the far wall). The staff were helpful explaining the menu to us. I went for the roast beef which was delicious, while chase got the very traditional pasteles (similar to a Tamale). We both got side orders of rice and beans, though I'd come to find out a popular choice is the Mofongo (a mound of mashed plaintains). In what was becoming true Puerto Rican fashion, the menu was presented hand-written and photocopied.

Ben & Jerry's: 61 Calle del Cristo (a block up from El Batey)

So not at all Puerto Rican but an eccentric American Ice-cream brand started in the late 70s. Built around an alternate style of living, their ice-cream flavours contain funky names like Chubby Hubby and Imagine Whirled Peace, and they are also actively involved in good causes.

After hanging out with our American friends Tom and Amy I'd been converted. Ben and Jerry's ice-cream is pretty darn tasty - and their marketing is very effective. I do remember a Ben and Jerry's store in Atlanta that we'd pass by often when we lived there, but at the time I was more of a Cold Stone ice-creamery kinda gal. This wasn't the most traditional place to try it, but I decided to hop over the threshold into the world of B&J's for my premier experience. We were also hungry and it was the closest thing we could see that we knew wouldn't cost a fortune (see the coffee episode below). The food was so-so (American-ish sandwiches of course), the decor exotic, but the ice-cream did not disappoint.

Al Dente: Calle Recinto Sur 309 (the expensive side of town)

Ok, I'm sure this restaurant is superb, extremely classy and the best Italian food in San Jaun. While there's nothing wrong with these type of places, they're not for our budget. Sporting a couple of chefs hats, that should've been our cue to run for the hills. But we wanted to have a coffee and didn't want to trudge the extra mile to our special place by the ferry terminal. I wanted to strive to get back there but Chase thought it'd be a good idea to venture out and try something new. Big Mistake.

It turned out to be the most expensive coffee EVER! Sure, it was huge, as big a a soup mug, and took as long as simmering a soup to make; it was an incredible piece of engineering. But it was NOT worth $6 a piece! Chase got the bill and kept a poker face in front of the waiter. I am always nervous at this point, I like to know my prices straight up before I order anything, but without a hint of revelation in Chase's expression I breathed a sigh of relief. However, as soon as the waiter left Chase let loose (I didn't know Chase's poker face was so good!).

We were stupefied. The blow was even more brutal now we were accustomed to Puerto Rican prices. And the coffee wasn't that good either. And, if I'd have known it was going to cost me as much as a decent Puerto Rican meal I would've finished the whole thing till I puked.

Art and Faith Intermingle in Old San Juan

Graffiti art on a garage door

Puerto Rico is a land of creativity and spirituality and Old San Juan is a great place to sample this mixture in a condensed format. I can definitely see why it attracts artists, the city itself is a great muse. Official and unofficial art have been subtly woven into the fabric of the municipality to great affect. Artists come from all over the world to unleash their artistic flare (Lindsay Daen who sculpted La Rogitiva below is a Kiwi - though growing up in Australia we might as well claim him for ourselves! His work is also represented in Brisbane and Adelaide). We also met with some of the city's own suffer-for-your-art type artists currently residing in Old San Juan; they may not be world-reknowned but they had talent and personality to boot!

Religion plays a vital role in Puerto Rican identity and churches abound in Old San Juan. These are beautiful in their simplicity and you can feel the energy emanating from their vibrant facades. Puerto Ricans are very expressive about their religion like everything else, and by what one can observe in this city, it speaks volumes. 

Art and Artists

This city has such interesting and wonderful sights to see and I'm not just talking about the pretty buildings. Sculptures, monuments and artwork abound around every corner and can be seen adorning every square. Some can even be found in the most unexpected places, sprucing up an othewise drab corner or wall. Unlike other city art, which let's face it, can be pretty boring, much of these works are intriguing and lively additions without dating.

To the left is the Statue of Eugenio Maria de Hostos, in Park de Beneficencia located near the School of Arts and some great museums in Old San Juan. This is one of my favourites, I love the people (supposedly children but they look rather adult to me) dancing on his arms. Known as "El Cuidadano de América" (The Citizen of the Americas), Hostos was a Puerto Rican educator, philosopher, intellectual, lawyer, sociologist and independence advocate.

In the U.S. Hostos joined the Cuban Revolutionary Committee and became the editor of a journal called La Revolución. He wanted to promote the independence of Puerto Rico and Cuba. He travelled extensively and did much to benefit a number of Latin American countries, reorganising the educational and railroad systems, despite being unable to realise his dream of Puerto Rican independence.

This monument is located near La Casa Blanca (The White House), the ancestral home of Ponce De Leon. Built in 1521 it is one of the oldest remaining in San Juan. Today, it is a museum that chronicles the life of modern Puerto Rico's founding family. I really wanted to see it but alas, it was closed for renovations!

Another inspiring statue is the La Rogativa situated in a Plaza by the same name, right on the edge of the city wall, just inside the San Juan Gate. It is a sculpture by Lindsay Daen and depicts the march made by a Bishop and a number of religious women in 1797 to scare off an invading British fleet, of none other than Ralph Abercromby. As we know, the attack was successfully repelled by the military, but what happened after was that Abercrombie organized a naval blockade to starve the residents of San Juan, cutting their access to supply shipments by sea. A ‘rogativa’ (divine entreaty) was ordered by the governor to appease the already desperate citizens of San Juan. Remarkably, it worked; bearing torches, bells and crosses the procession ran them off, though it is assumed they fooled the British into thinking reinforcements had arrived.


Not as fanciful but definitely commanding, is the Statue of Cristopher Columbus in Plaza de Colon (Colon being the Spansih version of Columbus), not far from San Cristobal fort. Erected in 1893 to commemorate the 400th anniversary of the his arrival in Puerto Rico, the monument displays a statue of Columbus perched atop a giant pillar, towering over the square. The elaborately sculpted base contains bronze tablets which record important events in the explorer's life.

The Zeno Animal Sculptures in a cute little plaza called Plaza de las Monjes (The Nun's Square), opposite the San Juan Cathedral, are adorable. There is a funny looking cat with a giraffe-like neck, a rooster, and then a boat nestled in the garden that looks like Scruffy-the-tugboat carrying a bunch of penquins! At first it seemed cute but odd, until I found out the Museo del Ninos (The Children's Museum) is just off of the plaza.

Below: A few more interesting pieces we came across along our ramblings.
Left: How about these cat chairs! I don't know who did them but their significance must have something to do with the millions of cats roaming the streets of Old San Juan; they're something of an unofficial mascot really. Right: a surprise we found tucked away underneath a tree.

Street Art:

Left: Interesting mural outside of Casa Borinquen on San Sebastian St. We thought it was just a crazy figment of someone's imagination but its actually a symbol of national pride - a portrait of independence leader, Pedro Albizu Campos. This street is full of bars and cafes and is the site of an annual mardi-gras-stye festival. Right: This was found and taken at night. To me it looks a lot like Lauryn Hill of The Fugees fame.

A bonafide modern artists' gathering:

On the day we arrived in San Juan, our host, Ali, was going to his weekly get together with a bunch of artists in the area. Ali is an artist himself, predominantly photography and graphic design. He spent his formative years in America and in the military but now that he's retired he is back in his native land and following his passion. We were invited along and of course we accepted.

The view to San Cristobal fort

We met at one of the fellow's places. I don't remember any of their names except one (of course the most outlandish one!). Negotiating the labyrinth of stairs and walkways to his apartment we could've been in a horror movie going to our demise. Luckily, we have better luck - and judgement, than that and it turned out to be a fantastic experience. Inside his apartment we stepped out into his little balcony where we had a spectacular view of the city wall and its garita in front. San Cristobal, illuminated by a street lamp, was almost next door and to the other side you could see El Morro in the distance.

The three old fellas we met were absolute characters. They were American escapees searching for inspiration and enlightenment in which to hone their crafts. All four (including Ali) had different areas of expertise, so it was good to be able to ascertain the different perspectives of each one. We all brought something to snack on in pot-luck style, but our host provided the delicious main. Mostly we sat around talking politics and other nonsense and then it turned to art. They were wanting to start a collective and Ali had a proposal for the logo of the group. It was made up of layers of symbols within the whole and he wanted to see if we could discover what they were; I was excited to be able to pinpoint the most important one! 

Next we moved onto Kareem, the crazy African American with the big personality. His forte was painting. He exhibited two paintings for our judgement. The first was an abstract version of two native tree leaves. He brought out the actual leaves and explained the motive: pointing out their different shapes and contours before producing the end result for us to see. This made it much more intriguing and it was good to read into the context of the painting. The other painting was a completely abstract piece and he wanted to know what we saw in it and at which angle it was most effective.

We admired some pieces of our hosts that were on display, a paper mache-style table lamp amongst others, before being enticed downstairs to the third fellow's apartment to see his collection of inanimate objects he'd created. We were dumbfounded; his whole place was taken over by these little pieces and they were very ingenius.

He took pieces he found along the coast and made intricate sculptures out of them. This fellow was the quietest of the bunch, you could see he was just sitting there taking it all in, but he looked like he was having a good time and he definitely was proud to show his work off. His apartment faces out onto the street and they told us people were always gawking in through the wooden bars to get ea look at his work.

Religion and Worship           

Spain also left it's imprint on the territory's religion and Catholicism is still the dominant faith. It can be seen in many aspects of the art and history of this place; plaques on the facade of people's homes, monuments, decorations, and the many enchanting houses of worship. Less than a century ago, over 90 percent of the population could be said to be Roman Catholic. More recently, particularly due to the inflow from the United States of America, Protestant faiths have taken hold and currently claim as much as one-third of the population as worshipers.

.

Today, Puerto Rico practices freedom of religion and the significance of the religious landmarks that grace Old San Juan extend far beyond any one faith.

La Iglesia de San Jose in the north-west near El Morro and the de Hostos Statue, was the second Church built in Puerto Rico. I love the stark, gothic facade, especially as you see it approaching from far down the street. It contains a variety of artistic and architectural details which are representative of the different eras of the church's construction and remodeling. It is currently closed for further renovations and is much bigger than the front portrays.





This is the first and only Presbyterian Church in the Old San Juan area. It has a simple, magnificent design and is right by La Fortaleza

Catedral de San Juan Bautista: This is the Grandaddy of the churchs here in San Juan, it is the oldest in Puerto Rico and the secondest oldest in the Americas.  Its original wooden structure was destroyed by a hurricane in 1526 and reconstruction began in 1529.

Some of the original achitectural components that have remained of this now neoclassical structure are its four Gothic chapels (one of which has an urn containing the remains of St. Pius), a vaulted tower, gothic ceilings, and a circular staircase. This along with those characteristics of La Iglesia de San Jose, are rare examples of Medieval architecture in the Americas. The cathedral also houses the tomb of Spanish explorer and the Island’s first governor, Juan Ponce de León. Most recently, an altar was erected in honor of the Blessed Carlos “Charlie” Rodríguez, the first Caribbean-born layman to be beatified.

It is located by the Plaza de las Monjes which also fronts El Convento, the most enchanting hotel I've ever seen (in pictures anyway). Built as Carmelite Convent 356 years ago it was closed in 1903 but later restored as an opulent hotel in 1962. I really want to stay there one night, to be whisked away to a world when rooms contained rich wooden beams, handcrafted tiles, carved chairs, chests, and velvet settees, and have imaginary conversations with Rita Hayworth, Lady Bird Johnson and Ethel Merman, some of the hotel's past guests. Can't you just see me fitting in?

Capilla del Cristo (Cristo Chapel) built in 1753 sits perched atop the city wall in an out-of-the-way corner, and we almost missed it for the cafe tables spread out on this pedestrian-only street. It's a tiny chapel I almost mistook for a gate with a bell on top. It's small and cute but otherwise unremarkable save for another Puerto Rican legend surrounding it. Depending on what you read the story varies but they all agree there was a man with a horse in a race down this street during the fiesta of St John's Day and the rider lost control and plunged over the precipice. Whether he lived, and the chapel was built to commemorate the miracle, or whether he died, and the chapel blocked off the street and prevented such an accident from happening again, is the part of the story that is in dispute. Either way it's a fascinating story that lifts the aura of this chapel.