Day Six – March 26, 2009 – Last Tourista Day.
And on the sixth day the Travel Gods granted her wish of finding her hotel with no wrong turns on her last night in Puerto Rico. Probably because she made so many wrong turns during the previous eight hours in Old San Juan.
Slept in late – 0830. The plan was to take pictures of me and Hercules at the beach and then leisurely walk through Viejo San Juan taking artistic and insightful photos of the brilliantly colored rainbow building I’d seen in postcards. I figured I could take pics at least that good.
As they say – “The best laid plans of mice and men, and aspiring photographers, often go awry”. Despite two maps and freeways that basically go east and west, I still spent over an hour and half lost and backtracking through neighborhoods. I found my way back to the gas station by Katie’s apartment, got oriented and headed east again.
Found Fort San Cristobal’s. It was hard to miss, a big rock fortress looming above the bank. It was impressive what could be built 400 years ago without computers and bulldozers. After oohing and aahing and taking pictures for other people’s groups I headed for Old Town. Got extremely lucky with a parking space.
By this time, I was tired and getting a headache and having what people like to call “stomach problems” that really have nothing to do with the belly and a lot to do with finding bathrooms quickly. The tourism board is considerate enough to have a trolley system that goes from the fort all the way to the cruise ship docks. So I hopped the trolley. Was too lazy to do much more than wander a couple of blocks.
And on the sixth day the Travel Gods granted her wish of finding her hotel with no wrong turns on her last night in Puerto Rico. Probably because she made so many wrong turns during the previous eight hours in Old San Juan.
Slept in late – 0830. The plan was to take pictures of me and Hercules at the beach and then leisurely walk through Viejo San Juan taking artistic and insightful photos of the brilliantly colored rainbow building I’d seen in postcards. I figured I could take pics at least that good.
As they say – “The best laid plans of mice and men, and aspiring photographers, often go awry”. Despite two maps and freeways that basically go east and west, I still spent over an hour and half lost and backtracking through neighborhoods. I found my way back to the gas station by Katie’s apartment, got oriented and headed east again.
Found Fort San Cristobal’s. It was hard to miss, a big rock fortress looming above the bank. It was impressive what could be built 400 years ago without computers and bulldozers. After oohing and aahing and taking pictures for other people’s groups I headed for Old Town. Got extremely lucky with a parking space.
By this time, I was tired and getting a headache and having what people like to call “stomach problems” that really have nothing to do with the belly and a lot to do with finding bathrooms quickly. The tourism board is considerate enough to have a trolley system that goes from the fort all the way to the cruise ship docks. So I hopped the trolley. Was too lazy to do much more than wander a couple of blocks.
It was pretty and decorative, but around corners you could see the signs of poverty and destitution. A woman sitting in a doorway with a jumbo Subway cup whose lower leg was an open oozing sore. We have the same kind of area here in the US, but it seems easier to drive by those parts of town.