San Juan — Joe's Slideshow Archive

Page 5 of 5
San Juan, Puerto Rico

Hot July ain't good to me, I'm pink and black and blue for you

The (almost) polar opposite of Banff (at least in terms of this slideshow) is San Juan, Puerto Rico. This was my first visit to any part of the Caribbean (somehow I had always managed to avoid it) and while I might have been prepared I probably really wasn't. The big problem (as always) turned out to be the strong winter sun and my eventual sunburn, something that no sunscreen available seems truly prepared to protect me from. Coupled with the hot (for me) weather, it made even short walks (like the one from my hotel into Old San Juan) feel more like a death march than the welcome fake summer stroll it really should be.

The part of San Juan that I spent most of my time in was Old San Juan, a piece of the old world firmly rooted in the new one. It has everything you might expect from a modern Spanish Empire town from the 16th Century- narrow streets, historic buildings, churches with someone dead and famous inside (Ponce de Leon to be exact) and two massive, state of the art (for the 16th Century) fortresses to keep it all safe. Of the two, San Cristobal was the most impressive while El Morro was the much better sited. It stood and still stands at the tip of the city, with one side facing the sea and the other facing a broad park toward the rest of the town. Its geographic luck also makes it a killer place to find or lose a kite. On the late, sunny, warm winter afternoon when I visited there were close to a hundred kites airborne, while the next day's stroll along the sea level Paseo del Morro revealed a graveyard of lost kites that were either ravaged by the wind or lost by someone who had yet to master it.

The territorial license plates (and a lot of the tourist propaganda) feature a profile of one of the lookout towers that line the city's walls. These towers were designed with slots big enough to see out of but also small enough to protect you from one of the many enemies (usually the British) who were prepared to do whatever was necessary to take your nice fort (and nice lookout tower) for their very own.

As for the rest of San Cristobal, it was and is pretty damn impressive. Underground tunnels (designed by the Spanish and now open to visitors) connect the upper and lower forts, while a surprisingly normal looking barracks and courtyard are framed by level after level of lookouts.

The only other place I went to in Puerto Rico (if you don't count some work in Bayamon) was the Arecibo Observatory, home to the very impressive world's largest radio telescope. The installation is in a generally undeveloped area, in a crater on top of a mountain an hour or two out of San Juan, just far enough that getting there was half the adventure. My rental car came equipped with GPS so I didn't put too much thought into directions. At first all was well, although I soon grew annoyed when the GPS started putting me on local roads and even more annoyed when it got me completely lost. At one point it sent me down a windy mountain road and insisted I needed to make a right turn where no such roads exist. Eventually I took matters into my own hands and found my way there, with little (or no) help from a GPS which was sending me somewhere at least 20 miles away from where I really wanted to be.

As for the observatory itself, it is framed by a well done but non inspirational science museum that talks a lot about planets and not all that much about the wonder outside. The telescope (as featured in one of the James Bond movies) is simultaneously awe inspiring and amazingly fake looking, almost as if it is a relic from that James Bond movie and not what it really is- the world's largest radio telescope that just happens to be hidden in the mountains in the middle of nowhere an hour or two west of San Juan.

The view out of the window from one of the two hotels I stayed at that weekend. And while I remain horrified that cockfights are allowed in a United States territory, I will admit to being curious about what goes on inside, although luckily any morbid curiosity I have is far outweighed by a stronger, impossible to dismiss feeling of wanting nothing whatsoever to do with any of it.

About as far south along the Gulf of Mexico that you can go (and still be in Texas) is Port Isabel, the gateway to South Padre Island and one of those places I probably never would have gone to in a million years if it wasn't for all this (really quite wonderful) random work travel. So far in 2009 I have taken 71 individual flights (no crashes... yet) and traveled more miles in the US and Canada than it would normally take to fly around the world- 38,000 alone since mid February when I started using tripit to track my travel. And on Continental, mileage bonuses have brought me over 108,000 elite status miles, well past the highest elite status (platinum) and well into a level where I am no longer surprised if I get a free upgrade to first class but rather surprised if I don't. Excessive travel has its privileges.

Meanwhile these pictures show the thing to see in Port Isabel (possibly the only thing), the historic (and short) Port Isabel Lighthouse, where a quick spiral stair takes you just high enough above the flat land to see out to the hotel and condo towers on South Padre Island and to give you a great "before" view just in time for the start of another hurricane season.

Another destination in the middle of nowhere, Abilene, Texas is more than just home to abandoned ICBM underground silos and (more significantly) a location in Richard Kelly's misunderstood masterpiece "Southland Tales," it is also home to damn fine barbeque and (just out of town) a great little windfarm. First spotted from the window on the short flight to Abilene from Dallas, the windfarms were huge (some of the country's biggest) and thoroughly surreal to drive around. On an otherwise deserted road, between ranches and, well, more ranches, they stood in constant arrays, slowly turning, an amazing live composition right across the Texas prairie.

Still in Texas but now on a completely separate trip, this is Gator Country, a roadside attraction in (or near) Beaumont, Texas that is leagues better than one called Gator County or Gator State would be, but not nearly as good as one that would be called Gator World or Gator Galaxy or Gator Universe. Like all roadside attractions, there is a fee that seems reasonable going in but one that always makes you feel ripped off on your way out. Sure there were gators. and a gator store that sold cheesy plastic gators, and a gator restaurant which served meals featuring gators, but taken as a whole there really wasn't all that much there. Still what else is there to do in Beaumont, Texas anyway?

What else is there to do in Beaumont, Texas you ask? Do you mean the Beaumont, Texas that is the home of the world's largest fire hydrant? The possibilities are endless.