¡Hola! (Part 4)

I was really looking forward to visiting Puerto Rico, mostly because it seemed like the only destination with a substantive history and culture. That sound snobby, but how about this: Marc Anthony isn’t even from here, but I can’t help but think about him each and every time I say the word Puerto Rico. And with that little intro, here is our boat docked in the very rainy (and then hot) port at Old San Juan, Puerto Rico.



We booked a city tour, which took on a dramatic twist when Janelle lost her ticket and was almost denied boarding the bus. Cue one sippely baby. Thankfully her baby-sized tears were enough to persuade the tour operator to let her come along anyway. We were happy too, because otherwise Janelle would have been one crabby kid for the next few days. And the ticket was never found.


Some old, museum-y looking building.

Our first stop was about 10 feet from where we were picked up, at the Castillo de San Cristóbal, a Spanish fort. The geris were pretty psyched that they were given an hour or so to wander around some stone walls (although they will all be back on board 20 minutes early to get good seats on the bus.)







We had some wild waves bringing us into port during the night and it looked just as bad heading out, from my estimation.
























Sometimes, on a cruise, you just really miss land. I was happy for being on land today…where are my sea legs (and stomache)?




Ye olde ponytail holder.



We totally went back to the bus 21 minutes early to steal some better seats. Hah! Take that, geris.




This is a statue of some guy pointing at something.

We then drove another 10 feet and de-boarded the bus again in the town square of Old San Juan. We were given a chunk more time to wander the streets (and attempt to steal Wi-Fi at Burger King so I can check the Canucks scores.)













It got crazy-stinkin’ hot outside the closer the clock inched towards late-morning. Cue sweat.







As you can see by now, San Juan is a ridiculously cool, colourful, and charactered place. Janelle started telling people she was now going to move to San Juan, which prompted a store clerk to seriously query Janelle on time-lines. She obviously doesn’t know Janelle. Janelle is verbally moving to every city in the world, all the time.




Oh yeah…it is Christmas season in the tropics.







After a trip to Starbucks (where we all had to furiously “check-in” on Facebook – except for poor Marty, who was without an iPhone at the time), we re-boarded the bus to depart for the new side of San Juan. This time, we traveled more than 10 feet, so those good seats stolen from the geris paid off!



Uh…I guess I didn’t take any photos in new San Juan because it just looked like Florida and we didn’t actually get off the bus. So, we headed back to the boat and ate some lunch before heading off again in search of the original Piña Colada! Do you like Piña Colada…?




Not sure what is happening here, but it’s kind of awesome.







Barrachina – one of the many Puerto Rican spots to claim ownership of the original Piña Colada – was our selected establishment to partake in this local delicacy, as our tour guide, a local, insisted that this place was the real-deal. Four, please!








Delicious. I love rum.


¡Hola! Español!

We trudged back on board for our sure-to-be-bumpy journey to our last port of call, Grand Turk. I guess I’ll be returning to Puerto Rico soon…I mean, if Janelle is moving there and all… I bet she has entirely forgotten about this by now. Ha ha.