San Juan…How’s That for a Long Weekend?

“Lil, it’s 5:00, you need to get up.”

Those were not the words I wanted to hear early Thursday morning. I grumbled and dragged myself out of bed, walked to the kitchen table and spent a good five moments trying to remember how to eat. Sure, I was excited. In a matter of 15 hours I would be in sunny Puerto Rico, but at that specific moment in time I could not think of anything better than curling back up in bed.

I was accompanying my father to the American Society of Theatre Research Conference in San Juan, Puerto Rico. I finished breakfast, threw on clothes (light layers of course, the only way to travel), and threw my suitcase in the trunk of our car.

Once we were on the road it wasn’t so bad. I consumed far more espresso than I probably should have, and began the two and a half hour drive to O’Hare. Driving by the empty soy bean fields, I couldn’t help but get excited about the weekend ahead. A long weekend at the beach? What else could a girl stuck in dreary mid-November Central Illinois ask for?

We arrived at the airport, made our way through security in a pretty timely and pleasant manner, well all except the incredibly foul mouthed security guard who deemed my bottle of sunscreen a bomb threat (may I also point out that he didn’t ask about the syringes I carry for insulin, way to go O’Hare, really), and we were soon awaiting boarding for our first flight to Miami. We arrived in Miami, had about an hour layover, and then took a three hour flight to San Juan, the capital of Puerto Rico. We arrived at around 10:30 (Puerto Rico is two hours ahead of us here in Illinois), took a cab to our hotel and became settled in. Despite being incredibly tired from the early start, my father and I took some time to explore our hotel; The Conrad. Not just a hotel, it was an entire beach side resort, complete with a casino. Not the quaint Comfort Inn that I’m typically accustomed to. It was surreal, to say the least. After grabbing a quick, overpriced, bite to eat from one of the restaurants attached to the hotel, it was time to hit the sack.

Friday

I awoke literally basked in sunlight streaming in from the window across the room. I jumped out of bed and ran out to the balcony. It was 85 degrees, sunny, and absolutely gorgeous. Peering down the street I could see morning traffic, palm trees and, most importantly, the beach. I hastily changed into my swimsuit, grabbed a light breakfast, slathered on some sunscreen, which I had to purchase from the hotel drug store at an exorbitant price, and headed down to the beach.

It was picturesque. All my gripes over the $6.99 3 oz. bottle of sunscreen were blown away. Cerulean waves crashing down on pearly white sand, framed by palm trees, it felt like I was standing in a travel add, and I had no problem with it. I laid my towel down, kicked off my flip-flops, and headed directly into the water. After I was satisfied with my swim in the ocean, I decided it was time for a little lunch.

Adjacent to the beach the hotel had set up a pool, I don’t fully understand the purpose of building a pool next to a beach but it was there, with a restaurant connected to it. I glanced over the menu, my eyes searching for anything less than ten dollars and I decided on a portion of fried plantains and a (virgin) **tail. Plantains are a staple in tropical diets. The plantain is related to the banana, but is larger and starchier. It is generally served under ripe and cooked, called “starchy” plantains, or overripe, called “sweet” plantains. After finishing my meal, I decided it was time to see what was beyond the restrictions of the resort.

I walked outside to the bus stop. There was only one bus running by the hotel, and it went to Old San Juan, the historical district of the city. I paid my $.75 fee, and hopped on. The bus ride didn’t take long, but I’ll admit it was a little frightening. The bus driver completely ignored red lights, and simply honked while going through the intersection to warn any oncoming traffic of its illegal crossing. There were also quite a few u-turns, and the driver yelled some words that I could not understand, but I gathered that they were rather indiscreet obscenities. I was dropped of at Plaza de Colon (Columbus Plaza), and I was ready to explore.

I wandered down the narrow, paved streets. Shops were packed tightly together, and crowds were bustling along the sidewalks. After popping in and out of stores, picking up knick-knacks for friends, my lunch began to wear off and I decided to find a snack. Conveniently I was standing outside of one of Old San Juan’s oldest bakeries: La Bomberra. The display case was packed full of pastries and I just couldn’t resist. I bought a cherry pastry for myself, and a cream filled one to give my father later, and then continued on my way.

Eventually I made it to the western end of the islet. There stood Castillo San Felipe del Morro, a massive defensive fort constructed in the sixteenth century. I didn’t pay to go inside the fort, but from where I was standing it was an impressive structure indeed. After walking around the outside for 20 minutes or so, I realized my father would shortly be out of his session for the day. I took a trolley back to the Plaza de Colon, and then a bus back to the hotel.

By the time I met with my father it was getting close to dinnertime. We went out with a few of his coworkers to a restaurant, Café Puerto Rico. It was incredibly hard to choose a dish from the extensive menu, but finally I settled on a crab and sweet plantain casserole (Note: normally I am a vegetarian, but Puerto Rico is not a veghead friendly place, plus the seafood was fresh so why would I resist?). For dessert we shared guava flan, and tres leche cake. Very full, and very content we returned to the hotel for the evening. I took a quick ocean swim and then promptly settled into bed.

Saturday

I awoke Saturday morning and once again the weather was absolutely fantastic. My father didn’t have any sessions past 9 in the morning, so we decided to go out together for the day. He wanted to see Old San Juan, and I had no problems returning. From the Plaza de Colon we walked through the streets. The first place we stopped was a mask shop. The shopkeeper was an incredibly friendly lady who told us about the paper mache masks used for Carnaval (Mardi Gras) and the coconut masks Festival of St. James. The masks were beautifully made, and all hand crafted by local artists. It was past noon by the time we left the shop so we thought it would be a good time to stop for lunch.

We were across from La Bomberra. The pastries I had picked up were quite good, and it was mentioned quite a few times by others at my father’s conference so we decided to try it out for lunch. I had a glass of lemonade and an order of Arroz con Gandules (rice with pigeon peas), Puerto Rico’s national dish. It was understandable why the place was so highly recommended, it was inexpensive and the food was great. Apparently, La Bomberra was even featured on Rachel Ray’s travel-food program $40 a Day. We purchased pastries for later in the afternoon and then made our way towards the southern edge of the islet.

We walked along the ocean side, it began to drizzle a little, but it was still sunny out and rather warm so it was more refreshing than a nuisance. We walked through an open market. There were stands selling all sorts of things: candies, produce, woodcarvings, alcohol, and lemonade. We kept going and then my father noticed, sitting atop a lamppost, there was a pelican. We stopped and looked at it for a while and then kept going. There was a small plaza, and on it they were setting up a huge Christmas tree. It was kind of funny to see Christmas ornaments up when it felt like a summer’ day.

There was a good sized Catholic church that we stopped by. Mass wasn’t going on, and it was empty. We walked around at the various depictions of Mary, and there were also prominent Puerto Rican figures displayed along the wall, not just religious figures. Towards the door there was a statue of Christ on the wall. He was perched atop a globe with the word peace stretched across it. I took a picture. It’s probably my favorite depiction of Christ that I’ve seen.

My father wanted to see the fort, but I was a little tired of walking so he went ahead and I returned to the main plaza. I purchased some ice cream (I don’t remember the flavor it was a fruit I’d never heard of before but it was quite good) and sat down by the main fountain while I waited for my father to return.

The sun started to set and dinnertime approached. We walked up a hill to Calle de Sol, and stopped at restaurant. We quickly looked over the menu, and it didn’t take long to decided what we wanted. We ordered the red snapper with rice and plantains. An entire fish, deep fried was served to us on a platter, an entire fish: fins, eyes, everything! By the time we were done not much was left except the bones. Yes it seemed a little barbaric to see the face of what we were consuming, but it was delicious. The restaurant was closing so we paid and left. Afterwards, walked around to look for a café to get a little something to finish up our meal. We found a place called the Parrot Club. It had live music playing, and just seemed like a fun place. We had drinks, and an order of Cevishe de Mahi Mahi served with plantain chips. We stayed for a bit, played some cards, and listened to the band playing. It was getting late and we had to get up very early in the morning so we took a cab back to the hotel, packed, took one last swim and went to bed.

Sunday

We woke up at the not so leisurely hour of 4:00 AM (and with the two hour time difference it was really 2:00 Central time). We got to the airport, dragged ourselves through customs, and the minute coffee was available we took advantage of it. Our plane went to New Jersey and then we took a flight back to O’Hare. I spent the ride outlining the APUSH chapters due that Monday. We got to our car, and I had to get used to the idea of wearing a coat again. When we finally got home I just about passed out from fatigue but all in all it was worth it. It was definitely the way to spend a long weekend.