On the road in Puerto Rico: an easy journey

Let’s talk a bit about what it’s like to drive in Puerto Rico. I say that as someone who for eight days in March (as I’ve written in previous posts) drove the 300-odd miles around that Caribbean island/U.S. territory..

The first mistake I made was not doing any online research. If I had I wouldn’t have been so surprised that the roads, in general, are in pretty good shape. In fact, the roads in Puerto Rico are as good as any you’re apt to find in northeast Washington and many parts of Idaho.

Even so, there are a few things I wish I’d known beforehand.

First, it’s good that we decided to spend our first few days in Old San Juan without a car. While the highway heading into the old city center are what you would expect from any city, Old San Juan’s cobblestone streets are from another era – one more appropriate for pushcarts and horse-drawn carriages.

When it came time to leave the area, it took an hour or more just to navigate the narrow thoroughfares because of the congested traffic. Things finally opened up, though, when we arrived at the rental-car center at San Juan’s Luis Muñoz Marín International Airport. And from that point on, we had no problem.

OK, second, Puerto Ricans like to tailgate. They do so even more than Spokane drivers, which is something that normally irritates me. But for some reason, I was able to contain my emotions there (unlike I’m seldom able to do at home).

Third, they speed. On the main roadways, I was passed repeatedly by drivers who were going far faster than the maximum posted 65 mph speed limit. Once, a car raced both by me and a long line of other cars – despite the fact that it was traveling on the narrow right-hand shoulder, which is not even a proper lane.

To be fair, I’ve experienced all that and more right here in Eastern Washington (not to mention, the rest of the state and other states as well). Here, though, is where my experience driving in Puerto Rico beats what I face regularly in Spokane: Drivers there have no trouble merging.

In Spokane, even when lanes are closed for whatever reason, drivers tend to honk at you if you have the temerity to try to pull over in front of them. Forcing yourself in is often the only way to get over, and let’s face it that can (and often does) lead to road rage.

In Puerto Rico, strangely enough, whenever I was forced to merge the other drivers simply made way. No honking, no cutting off, simply an acknowledgement that the roadway is something to be shared. What a concept.

When we left the airport, we headed west. Our destination was the Punta Borinquen Resort, some 82 miles away. On the way, though, Mary Pat wanted to stop at a restaurant called Jota at Royal Isabela, a dining spot located in of the island’s fancier resorts (and because of the steep prices not a place at which we would stay unless we had no other choice).

How fancy? Well, we had to sign in at a gated entrance, get directions to the parking lot where a guy would be waiting to ferry us in a golf cart to the restaurant itself. Once there, we were treated courteously (especially by our initial server Jose), and our lunch was as good as advertised. It helped that our table offered a view of the golf course set against the blue of the Caribbean Sea.

Once in a while, it’s fun to experience what the daily life of an oligarch must be like.

When we left, and returned to normality, I drove the final 15 or so miles to where Mary Pat had booked a room at the Punta Borinquen Resort. To call that place a “resort,” as pleasant as it turned out to be, is a stretch – at least as compared to the Royal Isabela. Set on a former U.S. Air Force Base, the rooms are what used to be used by unmarried officers (BOQ, or bachelor officer quarters).

As it turns out, Ramey Air Force Base was established in 1939 and was decommissioned in 1993. There’s still a military presence in the area, mainly the U.S. Coast Guard and Puerto Rico Air National Guard. The history of the base is explained in a small museum located near the resort’s swimming pool, though it’s open only for a few hours on Saturdays.

Anyway, during our two-day stay at Borinquen, we played golf at the Punta Borinquen Golf Club. Again, the name makes the place sound a lot more fancy than it really is. Yet we were able to get on with no problem, play 12 holes by ourselves and not be too bothered either by the harsh sun or the occasional horseback riders before calling it quits.

Our sole beach excursion was to a place called Crash Boat Beach. According to the guidebook, it’s said to be the third-best beach on the island. Not surprising since, even though it was a Wednesday afternoon, the small parking lot was full. So I paid a guy $10 to park in a private area within easy walking distance. Just call me Daddy Warbucks.

We were able to score a spot on the sand, rent an umbrella and even get our feet wet. But the wind-whipped waves crashing so close to the shore kept all but a few brave souls from venturing much farther out.

As for meals during our Borinquen stay, we ate sandwiches at the resort’s pool-side restaurant, enjoyed brunch at a guidebook-recommended, road-side cafe called Mona. And one night we ventured into the nearby city of Aguadilla to a beach-side restaurant called Sal de Mar where the vibe was inviting and the food was as good as any we ate on the island (suggestion: try to fish tacos).

The view of the sunset from our second-floor venue turned out to be as scintillating as any we’ve experienced on our world travels.

Afterward, satiated with good food and drink, we took a long walk along the Boardwalk known as the Paseo Real Marina. Then we headed back to Borinquen.

Our BOQ beds were calling.

Next up: A city called Ponce.