Eclipse!

Another two-part adventure! I'm in standard, My father is in italics.

About two weeks before the eclipse, I decided I would go watch the eclipse and see totality.  The closest areas were in South Carolina and Tennessee.  Knowing how busy I-95 can get, and wary of the potential for clouds closer to the ocean, I opted for Tennessee.  The plan had been to kind of get close and then drive into the totality zone between Knoxville and Chattanooga that morning.  I found about 8 Hampton Inns in the Knoxville area that were sold out, but finally found one south of town, across the street from the airport (and actually in the zone of totality) that had a room.

As the first total eclipse of my lifetime (in the US) approached, I was tossing around the idea of taking the trip down. Looking at routes, looking for friends who were going, and a week before the event my dad tells me he has a hotel room in TN! It’s on! Let's do this!

T-24:00
We set out on Sunday afternoon, planning to drive down to our hotel in Alcoa – just outside Knoxville and just inside the totality! It was a long trip, but by trading off every two hours (and not thinking about it) it didn’t feel as oppressive as it might. As we drove we were surrounded by other northerners coming down to see the event. PA, NJ&NY, even Maine, Vermont, and a few Canadian plates.  Weirdly, everyone seemed to be in good spirits. People drove courteously, and had a tendency to slow down miles ahead of any traffic jams, building pockets they could later absorb. I think a sense of camaraderie and universal use of GPS contributed to this. But as the traffic grew, so did our fears for Monday’s traffic – when all the people who trickled to the totality over the past few days would all (attempt to) return home at the same time. 

The highway kept getting busier as Brice took a shift at the wheel, and down in SW Virginia, about 4 or 5 hours into the trip began slowing and stopping.  I was looking at the car GPS, his phone, my phone’s maps and Waze.  We took a couple quick detours on local roads to avoid stopped traffic.

On one of these detours, suggested by our GPS's (Ancient mariner’s proverb: “Never take two chronometers to sea, rather take one or three”) we stopped at Happy Food Mart - a gas station that was doing constant business.  All the pumps were in use, there was a line for the restroom, and the shelves were picked bare – snowpocalypse level “Well, this aisle is empty..."  I found the last bag of Chex mix, Dad picked up an only slightly expired Little Debbie Apple Pie, and we headed back out to the highway.  Which was flowing beautifully! It seems the traffic jam we bypassed was metering out traffic behind us, and we gratefully headed south.

T-14:30

Traffic steadily eased up the rest of the trip, and we arrived at the Hampton Inn Airport in Alcoa Tennessee at midnight, about 9 hours and 450 miles later.  We were safely “inside the zone”!

T-4:30

I went to the smallest hotel workout room I have ever seen, we ate the standard comp breakfast (with all the other eclipse seekers), and hit the road around 9:30 or so.  We had filled up with gas before checking in, and decided that it would be wise to get lunch at the local subway and avoid the rush.  This was a good call!  We then turned to go south on the local 4-lane road, and it was so chock full of traffic it was hard to find a gap to pull out!   Absolutely flooded with cars heading south from Noxville. Just a constant, two-lane stream of traffic, like hurricane evacuation footage. At this point we switched into full crowd-avoidance mode. Armed with our three GPS’s and a map with the totality zone sketched across it, we set off towards the totality on whichever road appeared convenient and empty. We made our way down empty back roads (“Take 6 Mile Road 8 miles to 4 Mile Road”) down to a surprisingly empty Highway 72, one of the main east-west routes within our region of the totality. This would give us the ability to flee small clouds if they popped up to ruin the show.  We took an even smaller backroad and arrived at the Little Tennessee River (which was more of a lake at this point) and scouted out a few spots, all of which had great southern and upward visibility.

T-3.30

But was it the best spot? Since we still had about two hours we went over 5 miles to Venore.  Lots of traffic, people selling parking for $10, police directing traffic, etc.  Tried one state park—closed.  (why have a park if you’re going to close it the most important day of the year?!) Tried another that let us in, but there was a line of traffic waiting for parking. Brice suggested that it might take us an hour to get out of that park, and then another hour to get back across the Venore bridge (described strategically as choke points), so we gave up on that and went back to the side road by the water (old Route 72, on a wide dammed spot on the Little Tennessee River, upstream from Tellico Dam and Venore).

T-2.00

Our secret spot now had people! But only half a dozen cars spread out along the riverfront, so no worries. We parked in the shade, checked the time, and went out to meet our neighbors. One young man had his own machinists shop, and we met an older man who had come ashore from his boat for a run. Most of our neighbors were from “the next county over” and were already swimming in the river (a few of them fully dressed).  It was borderline hot out, so we suited up to join them!  The bottom was muddy, but other than that it was great swimming, complimented by a great jumping rock (about the size of Brice’s sprinter van, rising 6 feet out of the lake).  We spent an hour floating around, chatting, jumping off the rock (It looks much larger when jumping off than it does looking up at it), and trying various climbing routes – bailing into the river when our hands slipped. It was great.   

T-1:00

We decided to eat our lunch before the eclipse hit, so we got out of the river to dry off. I put on my glasses to test them out and was surprised to see a small chunk missing from the sun! It was starting!  We alerted our neighbors, passed out our extra glasses, and had lunch while keeping an eye on it.  I tried to take a few pictures using filters, but none of them turned out. We made pinhole cameras, found leaf-hole cameras, got all our gear in order, and watched the progress of the moon. One of the neighbors projected the image with a magnifying glass and we could see it—though it was so bright you had to use the welder’s helmets they had brought.

T-0:20

We could finally see a difference in the world around us. The sun was 65% occluded (75-80% ((he's probably right...)) ),  and you no longer needed to squint at all when you looked around, your pupils could relax a bit. It was basically like a cloudy day, except there were still clear shadows everywhere. It was also at this point that the bugs started making noise. Our neighbors (at least the younger generation) swam out to the jumping-rock to watch.  The clouds remained low behind us, and we were confident we wouldn’t have to do any last-minute scrambling for open sky.

T-0:10

As it got to 95% it got noticeably quiet, and the temperature cooled down about 10 or 15 degrees.  We checked our gear for a final time, and checked the sky map to verify potential planet locations. We knew Venus would be visible and that there was a chance at Mars, but we also learned that Mercury was up too! We reviewed our during-eclipse plans to make sure we didn’t forget anything.

T-0:02

Much darker. The light was like a huge storm was overhead, only the shadows were still crisp. You definitely got a sense that something was wrong.  We settled in to watch the eclipse and it was no longer small glances but we started starting constantly at the sun. It seemed to take a long time to snuff out the last few percent.  It looked like a very hot orange crescent, getting ever smaller.. No longer growing thinner, now it only appeared like the ends were sucking in at barely-perceptible pace. I made the mistake of glancing at the sun with no glasses, only to be blinded.

T-0:00:30

The world around us (looking under the glasses) was darkening now at a visible pace. I again checked the sun sans-protection, and again blinded myself.  

T-0:00:00

We were laying in the middle of the street staring up when finally, with a twinkle, the sun went dark. I whipped my glasses off, and told my dad to do the same. You see what seems to be a black sun!  The moon is all black, surrounded by the white corona.  Very other-worldly and awe-inspiring. In the blink of the eye someone had removed the sun from the sky and replaced it with a painting from science fiction. A cgi masterpiece, one of those pictures you’d see and say “That could never be real”. The corona was large, much wider than expected! Venus was exceptionally bright, and right next to the sun we could see Mercury! A few stars appeared but Mars was nowhere to be seen.  I snapped off a few pictures on my camera, and dad pulled out the binoculars which gave us an even better view of the corona.  It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.    We checked out the surroundings, and it did look like the sun had just set over every horizon. It wasn’t as dark as night – you could still see enough to navigate and find things, but it was definitely not day. Probably the equivalent of 30 minutes after sunset, when there is still some light in the sky.   I attempted a selfie with my phone, but it didn’t turn out and I discarded the phone, not wanting to distract from the moment.  Across the river, someone fired a cannon, which didn’t interrupt the bugs chirping their hearts out at all.  As we sun-gazed I considered looking again through the binoculars when the trailing edge of the eclipse began to brighten slightly. After a second, maybe two, there were two brilliant points of light (caused by moon-mountains!) that scaled up in intensity from bright to blinding within milliseconds. 

T+0:02:20

We watched with the eclipse glasses as the crescent came sliding out to the right, and just like that, the eclipse was over.  It felt much quicker than the 2+ minutes it lasted. It was still dark, and we watched the curiously dark shadows as the sun began to reappear.  We recounted what we saw, heard a few more cannon shots, and watched the eclipse-pattern on the hood of our car grow again.

T+0:09 After a few minutes the world appeared as it had before. Almost cloudy, but definitely daytime, and we looked at each other, content with our eclipse experience.   We said goodbye to our neighbors, jumped in the van, and headed back up the backroads, trying to keep ahead of the legion of people we knew were just south of us.  Everything went beautifully for the first half hour, then we hit the first town.  We detoured through neighborhoods, constantly checking the GPSs.  We kept plotting escape routes, only to watch them turn yellow and red before we got to them. Luckily, we made it through the town, out the other side, and traffic calmed down. There was still a lot of it, but it was moving.

T+1:00 Near Kodiak, at the last stoplight before getting up onto the interstate, we caught just the slightest nibble of moon over the sun. We took one last glimpse through the sunroof as the eclipse ended, and the sun returning to its fully spherical shape.  Then we put away our glasses and pulled onto the highway.  Traffic was heavy, but rarely bad. It stopped once or twice, but generally ran at 60-70mph and again there was a sense of camaraderie on the road.

T+5:00 The crossword puzzle wanted one of the letters to be ‘duck’ . Binned. Back to trying to talk through orbital mechanics.

T+9.5 We finally made it home around midnight!   A very long two days and lots of miles, but absolutely worth it!  Never saw it before, may never see it again, and it was really amazingly awesome!   All in all we’d driven 1098 miles in 36 hours for just 2 minutes of astronomical magic – Totally worth it.

PR4D5 - All good things must come to an end.

We woke up late, slowly packing and taking turns in the coffin-sized shower, before walking back to the airport for our Midday flight. This time, we stopped midway for icecream. It was a fantastic idea. A more fantastic idea would have been to rent a golf cart or a jeep so we didn't have to walk everywhere, but live and learn.

We hung around in the breeze and shade outside the airport, waiting for our flight and for a car/scooter to crash while climbing the steep hill opposite. (Un?)fortunately, they all made it.  The flight itself flew over the ferry, the port of Fajardo, and the highway we crossed from San Juan. It was like watching our travel in reverse-fast-forward (Back in the old days, we had these rectangular DVDs called VHS tapes...)

We parked on the Tarmac at San Juan and were escorted in a back door, passing through some of the underbelly of the airport (with luggage conveyors everywhere! I would take this tour).  Then it became the traditional airport pattern of layover-meal-flight, layover-meal-flight.

Truth be told, I have no idea how I held it together today.  I think a lot of it was I knew I'd be with Brice most of the day, so the goodbye's wouldn't come til later.  Plus, taking a puddle-jumper from island-to-island is half the fun of being on an actual island, so since my weight put me in the fortuitous position of window-seat, Brice trusted me with his camera and I relentlessly documented our flight.

As I've said before, Brice is always able to stay calm and carefree during stressful times, which enabled me to enjoy the last moments of Puerto Rico--hearing the last bird songs, watching the last lizards waddle from shade to shade, and taking a last look at the ocean.  Even he was impressed with how well I kept it together.  I didn't cry until we said our goodbyes at the layover, a stranger actually asked if I was okay. I know the sounds of Puerto Rico, particularly the waves (and roosters), will stay with me.

PR4 Day 4 - To Culebra!

We woke early to catch a taxi to the airport. After yesterday's trouble finding a tour I was apprehensive, but this went way better than expected.  We shared the cab with two... Germans? who were only 30 minutes early and very worried they would not make their flight. I don't think they've flown from Vieques before.

We got out of the cab, walked up to our counter, and checked in. They then weighed us and our bags, and we proceeded to the gate.  After a short wait, our plane arrived, and we finally went past security - which was a guard with a key to the tarmac. I love minuscule airports so much.

The flight from Vieques to Culebra is my favorite in the world. It is, in fact, half the reason we went to Culebra.  By merit of having the appropriate bodyweight, Lis got to sit up front with the pilot! I sat behind her for the 6 minute flight, which was practically an aerial tour of the islands. And then for the landing, we had to shoot a gap between two hills, crab sideways, and touch down. Definitely my favorite airport.

We walked into town, grabbed brunch, and set about finding a boat to take us over to Culebrita.

The plan was to find a water taxi and enjoy one of the mini islands with white sand beaches where few people are able to make it.  There's no food or water on the island, so you have to take everything with you for the day.  This IS the kind of beach they put on tourist videos.  However, we vastly misunderstood what a water taxi was by focusing on the "taxi" part... you know, someone who transports people as needed.  There was a time in Puerto Rico's economy where this was the case.  But like the bio bay, this service seems to have become popular enough to be fully booked day-to-day, but not popular enough to have a supply that meets the demand of impromptu customers.  We waited until almost noon to see if someone would come, while I googled every variant of "water taxi Culebrita" and "Culebra to Culebrita" I could think of.  I called about twenty numbers to no avail.  This was another indicator that the economy is evolving while the culture maintains "island pace."

(Lis)

One of Brice's greatest strengths is his ability to peacefully accept unfortunate circumstances beyond his control and look at the bright side.  He talked me out of getting stressed and led the way to our air bnb (a quiet, seaside duplex).  It was hard to figure out which unit it was, as the management had changed and the numbering was inconsistent. (Turns out we were in number starfish, which was the same as number seahorse).  But once we dropped off our bags, we decided to have an island-pace day.  We set up the hammock, and Brice read his sci-fi while I went back and forth between Pedro Paramo and a clever skit that I was writing.  We took frequent breaks to snack and stare at the lizards, birds, hermit crabs, and gently blowing palm trees.

(Lis)

That night, Brice took me to a seaside bar, one that he'd remembered from his last visit.  We each chose different fish, and when we were done, the waiter advised us to throw the carcasses into the bay, as the gigantic cannibal fish loved tearing into them. Feeding the Tarpon was childish fun, like throwing french fries to seagulls, but it was awesome. Those kids have life figured out.

 


After dinner, we walked out onto the dock (which still didn't have any water taxis), to watch the boats bob in the moonlight, and decided it wasn't time to go home yet.  So we went back to the bar and knocked back a few cocktails while retelling our favorite stories/overtly people-watching. I did have one moment of panic when I desperately needed to pee but didn't know if - based on the illustrated door signs - I was an octopus or not. Luckily when I looked around the other option was a mermaid, which made the problem much simpler.

Finally, we walked back to our condo, relax in the night air and eventually heading to bed.

PR4 Day 3 - Vieques

Today's the big day! The day when we do all the things!

There's a prank called a "Duck Bomb"  where you boobytrap a dozen fake chickens to produce a continuous cacophony. In Vieques, our day started at 6:13 am to the biological analogue. In cartoons, the sun rises, the rooster crows, and life moves on.  In practice, the sun comes up, the rooster crows, and then every other rooster on the island spends the next five minutes trying to prove he can be louder.

Two hours later, we woke again and set out to find a bio-luminescent bay tour.  None of the shops had opened, but we found breakfast at a restaurant where we could keep an eye on everything. We were shortly joined by other couples with similar ideas.  Eventually, shops started opening, and we learned that everything truly was booked solid this week. Looking back, I blame spring break - my brother had no problems a few weeks previously. Live and learn.

Instead of renting a kayak, we rented mountain bikes, hoping that we could stealth our way into mosquito bay that evening. In the mean time, we figured we'd hit our other two Vieques goals: the black sand beach and the sugar plantation ruins.

This is about when I learned I was not slightly sick. It's easy to shrug off a  ̶c̶o̶l̶d̶  sinus infection when you're drinking painkillers* at a bar. When you're hustling a mountain bike and a gallon of water up some tropical hills in the midday sun.... then it catches up with you.
 *Equal parts Pineapple juice, Orange juice, and (light/dark) rum. Garnish with nutmeg. Not an oxycodone milkshake.

Only two miles later (it felt like 5), we arrived at the parking lot for the black sand beach. Sucking down air and water, we chained the bikes and set off down an abandoned lot towards the beach!  We of course closed the unlocked gate behind us, frustrating the old white mare eyeballing all the wild grass.

Around a curve in the path we found out this wasn't an abandoned lot after all. A woman very politely yelled at us to turn around, get out of her yard, and to take the path under the rail bridge. Squinting through sweat into the sun, I noted she had a large, blurry, black and brown object resting on her hip, approximately the size and shape of a shotgun. I resisted my urge to dare her to put me out of my misery, and thanked her for her guidance.

My Tree! And Lis in the distance.

We found the bridge (with a guard rail) a stone's-throw from her gate. And it even had signs for "Playa Negra" that we had completely missed in our initial hypoxic approach. After a mile hike down a dry streambed (it felt like 5) we arrived at the black sand beach.  It was beautiful. I sat down under a palm tree to drink some water and wait for death.

For the next half hour all I did was discover that the black sand is magnetic, so I'll let Lis tell this part:

Brice and his tree in the distance. -Lis

Playa Negra gave you the thrill of being marooned.  It felt forgotten, bedraggled, left in peace.  Not a beach they put on tourism commercials.  The ground is not gentle beneath your feet. There are splintered palm leaves in the sand, crabs scuffling in and out of holes in the woods behind you, dried seaweed collecting in unnerving clumps, ants bubbling in and out of the black sand.  It's the perfect place to be left alone.

Leaving Brice under a tree to rest, I wandered ankle-deep in the surf, making sure to watch my step for urchins.  However, with all the seaweed and rocks, it was hard to see where I was stepping.  So I made sure to not wander too far.  Only far enough to reach an interesting porous rock that I would have climbed if I hadn't been so insistent on leaving my shoes behind.

Slightly reinvigorated, we set off back up the streambed and on towards the Sugar Mill, passing the actually abandoned lot a quarter mile past our misadventure. Setting a slower pace this leg and exploring just how low the gear ratio on the bike would go, we set off for the sugar mill ruins. Our choice was two miles off road skirting the Over-The-Horizon Radar base, or 7 miles on road climbing over the island. Two miles later (it felt like five), we arrived!

(Lis)

After locking the bikes we climbed into the woods. Making it to the ruins, I sat down under a tree to die for a bit.  I didn't see much except for the Lizard who jumped on me, so I'll let Lis cover this part.

As soon as we got to the ruins, I felt like a cat discovering a new maze. It appeared at first like just a single large, broken-down room.  "This is your Great Valley?" (Apparently this is a land before time quote?) But as we got deeper into the woods, we also got deeper into the ruins. Once we found a spot where Brice could relax it was time for me to start exploring properly.

The trees have grown so much into the ruins that they look like hair.  It's times like this where I feel how wrong it is to talk about our buildings as if they are a separate entity from "the environment."  Whether it's a bird's nest, a beaver damn, or a city, everything eventually gets abandoned and taken over by the elements.  At the plantation we saw this thought-provoking  process in action.
 

(Lis)

The walls crumbled like egg shells over the last hundred years.  It was unnerving to climb on them or crawl beneath an arch. But of course that didn't stop me. My favorite feature was the colossal gear, six feet across. And yes...I crawled under and above it.  Ill-advised.  Brice might be wondering where I am...  *Checks phone*  Oh, I have no service.  Hm.  I basically remember where he is.

Oh, I forgot I have zero sense of direction.

"MARCO?!"

...

"POLO!"






After Lis finished exploring, we had to reverse our progress with a 4 mile marathon back (which somehow also felt like 5 miles). Trading off the lead, greedily swerving for any shade available, we set off on the slowest bike race of my life, making it back to the house around 2pm.  After drinking some water and doing nothing for a while, we finally ate the lunch we'd packed.  Afterwards, I crashed out for a nap while Lis went down to the beach.

(Lis)

While Brice attempted to sleep off his fever, I cleaned up and decided to head down to the beach, armed with my camera and poetry books.  I told him I'd be back for dinner, and sent him my location in case he felt good enough to join.  This was one of my favorite times in Puerto Rico.  There was barely anyone on the beach, but unlike the dilapidated nature of black sands beach, this beach was as vibrant as you could get without a snorkel.  The water lapped over large rocks covered in shells and seaweed, and urchins quietly looked up with their single red eye...which I have just been informed is a mouth.  I carefully made my way to one of the exposed rocks to listen to the water lightly drag itself back and forth.  I don't know how much research has been conducted about the meditative affects of cyclical water sounds, but... damn.

Then it got even better because Brice joined me! We moved to an area with more shade so we could relax, waiting until the sunset was ideal for pictures.  In the meantime, we talked about whether or not either of us could live on an island long-term.  Brice explained that he could easily live on an island, that the slow pace and the calm, relaxing atmosphere is an ideal habitat. Something about let tomorrow worry about tomorrow, and can anyone by worrying add a single hour to their life?  Some important person said that once.  I wanted to agree, though I prefer to vacation slow and live fast(ish). Deadlines and large populations make me feel important/needed.  Though, I don't know...looking back at these pictures, it's hard to say that again.

After our mandatory existential musings, my inner child was ready to examine rocks and shells, and see if I could skip any. (Well?) (Yes!)

With the beach fully in shadows we went across the street for dinner. It was stunningly peaceful. Having a glass of wine and watching the world darken I finally understood how easy it could be to meet Death with a smile when he eventually comes.

The stillness set into our bones as the cadence of night fluttered around--the tink of plates being washed, murmured conversations rising and falling, the wind brushing through the sea.  Sometimes time disappears and you momentarily step into eternity.

It was a gorgeous night for seeing the bio-bay. Cloudless, no moon, and no light pollution.  ̶U̶n̶ Fortunately, I was too  ̶e̶x̶h̶a̶u̶s̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶  smart to bike into the swamp, but those conditions also made it ideal for skywatching.

 

After dinner we walked across the pitch black beach and out a pier to see if we could spot any dinoflagellates.  We couldn't, but the stars were clear enough that I saw the Milky Way for the first time.  When fishermen (and their flashlights) came to the dock,  we strolled to a quiet spot on the shore and laid down just in time to catch a shooting star.  We discussed star age, constellations, and life for hours.  I didn't want to go back, but we needed our sleep for an early day tomorrow.

PR4 Day 2 - To the Islands!

After yesterday's hiking, we planned to take it easier today.  After sleeping in, we set out to find the peacock. He was super easy to find, but stubbornly refused to flaunt his plumage. We also checked in with the parrots, who didn't swear at all! The hotel must have replaced the (in)famous orator with a more family-friendly bird. Anyways, after checking out ("I hope you enjoyed your stay, Mr and Mrs Farrell" the hostess said, as Lis melted into a puddle of happiness) we grabbed a taxi to the port city of Fajardo.

Hoping to show Lis more of PR and recapture my old trip, I decided we should take the ferry to the islands. I think it worked. We saw the mountains/rainforests of El Yunque with their weird flowering trees as we drove past. Then we got to stand in line for tickets, before standing in line even longer waiting for our boat... I may have captured more of my last experience for Lis than I meant to. It was however nice to be forced to slow down and go at an island pace, where things get done when they get done.

Maybe even more than the events, I remember the transition moments.  Partly because we spent a lot of time walking, but also because those times where nothing was happening were the best times to soak up the milieu.  The distant trumpet of roosters, the fan-sized leaves on trees, the way a flock of cars were all aware of each other and could weave in & out without signals.

The ferry trip was largely uneventful, except for the whale sighting! Instantly, half the passengers swarmed the port windows, watching as the water frothed.  Luckily my vast experience with whales (namely, I'd seen one before), clued me in to the whale-shaped rock's very non-cetacean behavior, so I just watched the drama unfolding in the cabin (all crowded on the port side) as they gradually realized what they were seeing.  After a massive self-deprecating laugh, one of the passengers pointed to starboard and yelled, "Look!  Another one!"

It began drizzling as we arrived at Isabella Segundo (so perhaps it was fortunate there was no outdoor ferry seating) and we immediately jumped in a shared cab across the Island to Esperanza. On the way we stopped to drop a couple off at the W which looked gorgeous. We may have to do that next time. (Just checked the rates. We will not be doing that next time.) 

We dropped our bags off and wandered down to the boardwalk for a mid-afternoon meal.  We found an oceanfront bar and I was immediately stunned by the difference from my last visit. Far from being one step above a deserted island, Esperanza was full of people. And they were all white. Even as a white person, it was weird. We had a few drinks and a late meal, and waited out the rain.  This was another great chance to people-watch and debate the folly of their fashion choices.  Our bartender pressed on in good spirits, even with broken appliances and a missing employee. And as all good bartenders do, he convinced us to drink more than we planned (using pretty sound logic:  what else were we doing that day?)

After the rain, we walked through town trying to find open slots on the evening's bio-bay tour. There were none. They were all booked solid for the next several days.  We called some more, decided we'd do some research and find something tomorrow morning, and headed back to the house to call it an early evening, as it was apparent I'd started to come down with something.  While temperate air blew softly through the shutters we laid in bed, reading snippets of our books to each other until we fell asleep.

PR4 Day 1 - San Juan!

Brice: As my girlfriend Lis and I are long distance now, we have to catch a flight to see one another. But if we both flew instead of one of us flying, then we get to see something new and spend time together. So I decided that we'd visit Puerto Rico! And in traditional Farrell style I did my best to jam as much as possible into it.

Lis: I was asking Brice, as I always do, about when we could do another visit.  Dying to see him again, happy to just drink gin and play pool, the usual.  But in November he goes, "I think we're gonna do a trip, like Puerto Rico.  Whenever your spring break is." My jaw hit the desk.  Take a plane??  Go to an island??  Spend a ton of money??  So needless to say, I've been looking forward to this for months.

Day 0 - Flight

I love the beauty of exotic trips, but I also enjoy the journey.  The flight from DC to San Juan is one I'd been excited for, as it was my first flight with Brice!  We were both exhausted and tried as many contortions as we could to cuddle/sleep on the plane, but the spacing of economy class, especially United, is made for hobbits/Lises and not elves/Brices.  But we managed a few bouts of conversation and dozing.  Once we landed and set off for Caribe Hilton however, I started getting energy again.  The hotel has a private beach, pools, a mini-jungle with exotic birds, and a ***ton*** of space.  But when we finally made it to our room between 2 and 3 am, the fatigue kicked in and we had a restful night.

Day 1 - Walking San Juan

Today we decided to do San Juan by walking. This was mostly a good idea.

We struck a great balance between sleeping enough that we were energized and not wasting the morning.  As we left the building I remarked, "I've been transported to this magical world where it's summer!"  (Back home the weather was around 40-60 degrees, here it was 70-80). 

We first visited Punta Escambrón (Literal translation: Prickerbush Point. It sounds way better in Spanish). We saw the extremely abbreviated ramparts, took in the ocean, and Lis marveled at her first Palm trees.  Then we looked way across the water at the fortifications that made up the todo list for today.  Castillo de San Cristobal a mile up the coast, and El Morro another mile past that.  It was slightly daunting as the screws in my femur still occasionally act up, but we decided to go for it and set off!


We had a deliciously breezy walk over to the long forts in Old San Juan.  Historic sites are some of my favorite places to walk around, because they're well-maintained, spacious, and usually blended with nature.  I had forgotten how large San Cristobal is - despite being the less famous of the paired forts it is much larger - 27 acres!  We immediately set about exploring all of it, from the WWII era additions, to the garritos (the iconic guard-lookout-boxes that all smell like hobo pee), to the ancient storage tunnels that featured all their original lighting! Which is to say, no lighting. There were so many spots on this fortress to sit and look at the sea.  Even some old cannons and cannon balls to climb on (I resisted the urge, for the sake of the children nearby). We saw a few lizards, wandered the grounds, watched the ocean smash against rocks, and eventually set off to find lunch.

After turning down a random sidestreet we found a random cafe? Lounge? Primarily a drinks place, it had sluggish service but neat decor, balconies, and an amazing caprese appetizer.


After lunch we continued past the ghetto ("Never go down there", he said foreshadowingly, like Mufasa warning Simba about the Elephant Graveyard), skirting the cemetery, and up to El Morro! El Morro is more of the same - a huge castle built with a staggering amount of stone, with great views of the sea for the cannons to take in. And too many stairs.


 


That's when my mind started wandering, looking out at the sea and trying to imagine what it would look like if invaders were approaching.  Brice also pointed out a lot of architectural advantages, like a long slope instead of stairs, which would make it hard to run up if it was wet from rain. Or blood!
 



While we were at El Morro we noticed a path winding around the base of the fort, which would put us up close and personal with the waves, so we set off to find it! We ended up backtracking a fair bit, which actually worked out as we ended up leaving via the Puerta de San Juan - the iconic gateway in the city wall. And we saw kitty city. Cat country? Punto gato? Regardless of what you call it, the locals feed hundreds of stray cats along the path around the fortress wall, resulting in cats lounging beneath every tree. It's super cute. My inner child was throwing a tantrum at the fact that it's not safe to jump into a pile of stray kittens, petting and kissing them and rubbing their bellies.  But at least I know they exist, and lounging and pouncing on lizards in their spare time.

We walked around the entire castle, taking in the imposing view an invading army would be faced with, and watching waves taller than we are smash themselves apart on the rocks. We continued around the north side of the point, eventually ending up at the cemetery. We slipped in the back door, made our way between the close-packed graves, remarking at the large swath of history on the stones.  Unfortunately, once we made our way to the front door we discovered that it was locked, and a bit too large to surreptitiously jump. So we made our way back out the backdoor, across a seawall, and around the far side... cutting across the edge of the previously proscribed neighborhood.  Luckily, everything went well and we began making our way back to the hotel.

We stopped for afternoon tea (afternoon rum?) choosing open-air seating next to Plaza De Colón, where I finally got the ceviche I missed at Brunch. While we ate we observed the art demonstration going on across the street. The local art school kids had a speaker system and were setting up to begin some spray-paint art. I've seen the youtube videos, I know how this goes. They start with random smearing and them BOOM! Planets! Nebulas! This guy spent... I dunno, at least an hour, with his team, painting a graffiti tag that just said DAB.  And no space scenery. It was delightfully ridiculous, though I'm sure that's not what they were going for.

We walked back to the hotel, snapping a few pictures of the sunset along the way, and had a more substantial meal in the in-house taco shop. Then we walked out the private pier and along the now empty beach, and chilled in the hot-tub. There was not a lot left to say at the end of an action-packed day (doesn't mean I didn't try! "If you met an alien race...."), so we just recuperated in the hot water, letting the jets scrub the 10 miles we'd hiked out of our legs.