Floating In A Tin Can
I'm back from la Isla del Encanto. I'm glad to report that I did indeed enjoy myself, even though I was dying to get home by Friday. Here's an account of my experience.
Monday I didn't sleep Sunday night because we were due at the airport by 5 and I'm usually up 'til then anyway. Passing through the airport was a breeze. I don't know what all these horrible, excruciatingly difficult tests and obstacles and stuff everyone's always speaking of are all about. The worst that happened was that I had to take off my shoes. The flight attendant was a bitch, I was asleep most of the flight, and they gave us stale granola bars to eat.
After getting a car rental, we spent a good hour searching for a hotel. We passed through a couple of scary neighborhoods, not knowing where we were going. For lunch we stopped at the nearest Burger King, since there was a lot of those around. PR being a territory of the U.S. and whatnot, it was just like being back in Miami. Same Spanish/English clash, same kind of buildings, same commercial centers. Only difference is less diversity in its people. So we waited for the food for about 20 minutes..in a fast food place, mind you. A note on Puerto Ricans: slow as a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter. It's not really that they're "slow", they just have so much patience. It's a shock for anyone used to a busy metropolitan area where everything is fast paced. Apparently it can be a bother to natives as well..
A woman that went in before us, she was about 17 actually, though she could pass for 30 or 50, with a massive belly sticking out under her tank top, shorts, and broken flip flops on her dirty feet, got so upset over having to wait 10 minutes for her burger that she went back up to the smiling lady behind the counter and screamed in her face, "Si no me dan mi comida en 2 minutos, voy a descojonar a todos ustedes imbeciles!" which translates to, "Gimme my food or I'll chop your balls off!". This, of course, scared the pants off all of us, especially my dad who was standing right next to the woman. Eating was an awkward deal afterwards..
Next, we gave up on the search for a hotel to go to El Morro, the historic fort in old San Juan. It was hot as hell and it was tiring going up all those steep tunnels, but it was nice. Educational, but not as educational as our next stop, which was Bacardi headquarters. I learned how to make several cocktails with Bacardi rum, as well as found a new ambition to be a bartender.
We continued on our hotel search, which ended at a Ramada Inn in the area known as El Condado, which was a nice toruist-friendly area, with a couple of nice diners and a beautiful beach. We ate at a pizzeria across the street, then went straight back upstairs to bed because none of us had slept. My dad and Ruth slept one hour, and Chi had been downstairs watching TV all night.
Which concludes Day 1. Now I'm tired of typing, so I'll continue my tale later.
-Mich
Monday I didn't sleep Sunday night because we were due at the airport by 5 and I'm usually up 'til then anyway. Passing through the airport was a breeze. I don't know what all these horrible, excruciatingly difficult tests and obstacles and stuff everyone's always speaking of are all about. The worst that happened was that I had to take off my shoes. The flight attendant was a bitch, I was asleep most of the flight, and they gave us stale granola bars to eat.
After getting a car rental, we spent a good hour searching for a hotel. We passed through a couple of scary neighborhoods, not knowing where we were going. For lunch we stopped at the nearest Burger King, since there was a lot of those around. PR being a territory of the U.S. and whatnot, it was just like being back in Miami. Same Spanish/English clash, same kind of buildings, same commercial centers. Only difference is less diversity in its people. So we waited for the food for about 20 minutes..in a fast food place, mind you. A note on Puerto Ricans: slow as a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter. It's not really that they're "slow", they just have so much patience. It's a shock for anyone used to a busy metropolitan area where everything is fast paced. Apparently it can be a bother to natives as well..
A woman that went in before us, she was about 17 actually, though she could pass for 30 or 50, with a massive belly sticking out under her tank top, shorts, and broken flip flops on her dirty feet, got so upset over having to wait 10 minutes for her burger that she went back up to the smiling lady behind the counter and screamed in her face, "Si no me dan mi comida en 2 minutos, voy a descojonar a todos ustedes imbeciles!" which translates to, "Gimme my food or I'll chop your balls off!". This, of course, scared the pants off all of us, especially my dad who was standing right next to the woman. Eating was an awkward deal afterwards..
Next, we gave up on the search for a hotel to go to El Morro, the historic fort in old San Juan. It was hot as hell and it was tiring going up all those steep tunnels, but it was nice. Educational, but not as educational as our next stop, which was Bacardi headquarters. I learned how to make several cocktails with Bacardi rum, as well as found a new ambition to be a bartender.
We continued on our hotel search, which ended at a Ramada Inn in the area known as El Condado, which was a nice toruist-friendly area, with a couple of nice diners and a beautiful beach. We ate at a pizzeria across the street, then went straight back upstairs to bed because none of us had slept. My dad and Ruth slept one hour, and Chi had been downstairs watching TV all night.
Which concludes Day 1. Now I'm tired of typing, so I'll continue my tale later.
-Mich