(July 24th, 2011)
Today we packed up the car to prepare for our drive to Isabela on the west coast of Puerto Rico, where we would be staying at a beautiful coastal resort in honor of Laura’s birthday.
Our first stop, after picking up Rick and Sara, was to the grocery store. What I have learned in my increased travels is that I never know when my next meal will be and that I never seem to eat enough fruit and vegetables while away from home. Those dietary changes tend to upset my stomach, so I asked nicely if we might stop so I could stock up on some healthy snacks for our stay. Miriam came with me but was off getting her own things, so I wandered through the store on my own, which ended up being a little intimidating. Puerto Rico may be a US territory, but English is not the first language. Usually I do my homework when traveling to a foreign speaking land and learn my numbers and important phrases, but knowing I would be traveling with Laura and Miriam, who both speak Spanish, I slacked off. Yes, Miriam may have been standing at the end of my check-out line as I paid, but it was still the cashier, me, and the deer-in-the-headlights look I had when she started talking to me. Don’t worry, though. I survived.
So, loaded with a plethora of fruit options, off we went! Upon learning the day before how car sick I get on some of the windy roads that are prevalent in Puerto Rico, the other three passengers graciously let me sit in the front seat while they squeezed into the back together. I still love them for it.
Isabela is located on the far northwest corner of Puerto Rico, so we had a couple hours in the car. Luckily for my tummy, most of it was highway driving.
We hadn’t eaten much for breakfast, which gave us plenty of excuses to stop roadside and try all the delicious Puerto Rican food along the way. Our first stop led to the purchase of quenepas, also known as Spanish limes, queso de hoja, a semi-soft white cheese, fresh bread, pork rinds, and a couple of piraguas.
The quenepas were an entertaining distraction. They are cherry-size, rind-covered fruit that grows in bunches. We used our teeth to break through the thin rind and sucked the fruit out of the rest of the rind. The meat of the fruit surrounds a very large seed, and I spent quite a bit of time trying to scrape the meat off the seed.
I had a tamarindo-flavored piragua but was told it was not an authentic piragua, as the guy cheated whilst making it. A piragua is very similar to a sno-cone, but instead of having pre-crushed ice, they shave it off by hand from a large block of ice, then pour on your flavored syrup of choice. Our guy took chunks of the ice and put it in a machine to crush it instead of shaving it by hand. Cheater! Whatever. It was still refreshing. I wanted to make sure to try a flavor I was not familiar with, so I tried tamarind. I enjoyed it—it was different. I’m not sure if I’ll return to that flavor in the future, but I’m glad I tried it.
I have never really tried pork rinds before, as the very idea of them kind of grosses me out, but I’m always more willing to try things while I’m on vacation. I figure, what’s the point in venturing to other places if you aren’t willing to leave your comfort zone? It could mean you miss out on a lot. So I took a small piece and gave it a try…and promptly spit it out. Not. A. Fan. I quickly traded it in for some queso and bread to try to rid my mouth of the flavor.
Not long after this venture, we pulled over again to try some fried delicacies being made on the side of the road. Simply watching the process was entertainment enough. Let me set the stage: a woman who obviously eats a bit of her own cooking but does not purchase larger clothes as her body expands was deep frying various fritters on a make-shift wood-burning stove for the long line of cars and the picnic tables filled with people. We counted ourselves among the many.
For a dollar each she was serving up alcapurria, fritters made of plantains and stuffed with meat, and bacalaíto, fritters mixed with minced codfish.
There was quite a long line, so we had a bit of a wait, and she was so busy that her fire kept dying down, at which point she would spray it with lighter fluid, sending flames soaring as she ducked out of the way. She’d obviously done this before…
(Bacalaíto)
(Our cook and her wood-burning stove)
When we finally got our order, its cost was around $4.00. Can’t beat that! The only problem we had was that she was in such a hurry to serve everyone that she didn’t let the fritters fully fry, so they were still a bit on the doughy side instead of crispy like we were expecting. They were still tasty, though—I’ll just have to go back and try them a little crispier someday. Twist my arm.
We finally made it to Isabela in the early afternoon, our drive to the resort surrounded by walls of beautiful limestone rock and mangroves. We drove to what felt like the farthest corner of the island before turning in to the private beach resort, Villa Montaña.
Check in wasn’t for a couple hours, but we were allowed to use the resort’s private beach until then, so we grabbed our swimsuits and sunscreen and headed to the beach.
The resort’s grounds were gorgeous. Lush trees and flowering bushes bordered all the villas, and giant slabs of limestone dominated large parts of the lawns. The path to the beach led to an outdoor bar/restaurant/pool with amazing décor and a beautiful view of the beach.
(The beachside restaurant/bar)
We were able to find a couple available beach chairs, threw down our stuff, and headed in to the water. Laura pointed out the dark shadows off the shore, explaining it was the coral reef that we would be snorkeling over the next day.
The water was lovely. Our only complaint was that the ground had very large, slippery slabs of rock on the bottom instead of sand, which made it a little difficult to walk and made us nervous, as we wouldn’t be able to tell what was rock and what might be coral reef. But that didn’t stop us from swimming!
We discovered that there was an odd number of very friendly stray dogs roaming the resort, and they were extremely fascinated in our party, due largely in part to Miriam and Laura's miniature schnauzer, Thor. One dog in particular, a Jack Russell terrier, decided he belonged to us for a while, camping out with us at our chairs. We decided to name him Hector Spot.
Eventually, Laura’s parents and grandmother arrived and joined us at the beach. We grabbed some liquid refreshment from the bar (strawberry daiquiris), let the sun dry us off, grabbed the key to our villa, and headed up to our own rooms.
We had the top floor of a villa set a ways from the beach area, but still within walking distance. We climbed up the three flights, unlocked the door, and allowed our jaws to hit the floor.
The villa that Miriam, Laura, and I would be sharing was about twice the size of my current apartment (granted, I live in NYC, but my apartment is still a decent size). There was a HUGE living and dining area, a kitchen complete with a washer and dryer, a gigantic private terrace, beautiful vaulted ceilings, and a master bedroom.
(The living and dining area)
(The master bedroom)
(The giant, private terrace)
(The vaulted ceilings)
The only issue I had with the place was that the one and only bathroom was located in the master bedroom, meaning that if I had to go in the middle of the night, I would have to try not to disturb Miriam and Laura as they slept. Awkward...
We didn’t have much time to take in our surroundings, as we had to hurry to get ready for dinner, so we quickly rinsed off the salt water and rushed down to the beachside, open-air restaurant to meet up with Laura’s family.
It was lovely taking in the sunset from our table, as well as eating AMAZING food. The only problem that Miriam and I were facing were the ravenous mosquitoes that were eating us alive! It was getting so bad that the restaurant gave us their bug spray to use. By the end of the evening I had around 60 bites on my legs. Yowch!
(One of the bar tables, poolside)
(An example of our amazing food)
(The pool and bar area after sunset)
After we said goodnight to Laura’s family, we headed back to our villa, and the five of us pulled up chairs on the giant terrace and started star-gazing. Living in a big city like New York, we don’t really get to see the stars, so we enjoyed every second, marveling at the fast moving clouds and counting the many shooting stars.
All in all, it was a beautiful evening with fabulous company. We eventually called it a night, and I pulled out my surprisingly comfortable couch-bed and fell asleep, preparing to celebrate Laura’s birthday in the morning.
