On wasting away in Cheesesteak-a-Ville

The mobile version of US Airways' website didn't want to check me in as my flight connection in Philly was only about 70 minutes. It took a phone call to the airline to determine my best course of action was to go to the airport and get checked-in manually this morning. This worked but it robbed me of the chance of getting an aisle seat. Instead, I got window seats.

Ironically, my flight landed at Philadelphia about half an hour ahead of schedule and then had a very short taxi to the terminal. This early arrival and quick taxi may have been due to an in-flight medical emergency, which delayed disembarking as paramedics examined the patient and then removed him from the plane.

Once in Terminal A, I found out that my flight to Montreal was in Terminal F which involved a shuttle bus ride across the tarmac. Then I found out that my flight to Montreal has been delayed by about an hour!

I had loaded a Jimmy Buffet album onto my iPhone for this trip. The last song on it is called "Volcano" and features the line "I don't want to land in no San Juan airport". This was written a long ago (in 1979 in point of fact). This can be determined by the presence of Air Margaritaville Restaurant and Bar once past security.

Margaritaville is the name of Jimmy Buffet's most famous song and the name of a chain of restaurants he licensed. I can't help wondering if changing the lyrics of "Volcano" in live performances was part of the airport's conditions! ;-)

"So I'm wasting away in Cheesesteak-a-Ville/
but I know it's US Airways' fault."

With apologies and thanks to Jimmy Buffet.

On my current location

On board my plane out of San Juan.

On my last days in Puerto Rico

As previously mentioned, yesterday's final section was fairly short and ultimately sweet. I might have done better to include some more coastal sections, but as I would have had to go back inland, I opted to stick to to the main road of urban sprawl until route 688 which took down to the coast. I was surprised by a relative lack of beach bars and the like though perhaps I shouldn't have as one of the municipalities I went through was called "Dorado" and had that feel of wealth about it. There was a long stretch near the ocean untouched by significant development. One the inland side, iguanas had burrows in the sand. Evolution seems to have worked faster here as there were far more live than dead iguanas around and live ones seemed more readier to flee than elsewhere. Either that or the local government was faster at road kill removal! ;-)

Somewhere, I failed to make a turn that would brought me past a Bacardi museum which would have been fun, though potentially dangerous! ;-) I found the ferry terminal and thereby closed my tour around Puerto Rico. As previously mentioned, I arrived early by about two and half hours. Viejo San Juan is many things but it is not much of a place to explore with a laden touring bike on a nice Saturday. I found some lunch from a street vendor that allowed me to keep an eye on Leonardo and the bags. My Puerto Rican readers should not think that this is any form of prejudice against them, merely my standard practice in large, busy cities, especially in tourist areas. I wouldn't leave a laden bike out of sight in Old Montreal.

Anyway, I eventually made my way to my hotel in Contado. By that time, I was sufficiently hot and sweaty that all I really wanted was a shower and a toes-up.

Today was spent doing various touristy things, especially the fort system. On odd thing I noticed in the Museo de las Americas was a very inconsistent policy regarding language. Some exhibits had signs in Spanish and English, others were Spanish only. If there was a logic to it, it escaped me. As well, in at least one gallery, the Spanish signs were about twice the size as the English ones.

On the benefit of having not worn the red shirt

If I had the advantage of the insight into Puerto Rico that I have now at the beginning of this trip I would have spent two nights in Arecibo instead of the nights in Hatillo and Manati. This would have allowed me to leave a significant amount of weight behind on the trip into Karst Country as it is known. If I recall correctly, and doubtless Father will correct if I am wrong, karst rock formations are limestone upon which time and water have had time to play. Depending on the region, they can take on pretty spectacular forms. In Puerto Rico, this means sinkholes and related structures.

As my skin was at the bubble stage of sunburn, I wore my long-sleeved jersey to protect my forearms. Otherwise, it would have been the turn of the red Star Trek jersey I wore in the Mango Cycling interview.

I set off up hill along relatively gently rising farm roads before joining a slightly bigger road which had the advantage of more carefully thought out hills and a wonderfully wide paved shoulder. This brought me to the Cavernas de Rio Camuy. At the gate there was a list of vehicle fees which only got as small as motorcycles. When I rolled up, the man jokingly inspected Leonardo as if searching for stowaways. There was no charge but he handed me a numbered ticket the significance of which I wasn't altogether clear on.

The Cavernas de Rio Camuy is run by a profit-oriented company which is a pity as it could be done so much better. After buying my entry ticket, I found out that the numbered ticket was they order in which I would get on the trolley to go to the actual site. At the time I arrived, this involved an hour's restless waiting, thankfully in the shade. Had the company been more enlightened, it would have some panels explaining the geology of what we were about to see.

My turn came and I got on the trolley (two trailers of seats pulled by an airport luggage tractor). My unasked question of why don't they have a walking path was answered by the sheer depth of the sinkhole we went down surrounded by lush vegetation with mostly unseen birds crying out in the background.

 We got off and entered the damp and cool cavern. I had brought my rain jacket with me and was glad of it. The entry tunnel was relatively low, only slightly higher than me but it soon opened up into easily the largest cave I have ever been in. Moreover, it was a cave of stalactites, stalagmites, and flowstone. It also had a population of bats, crickets, spiders and crabs. It was lit by artfully located lights, though I wished I had brought my headlamp in order to inspect some the details. Our route led to another sinkhole, deeper and with much steeper walls than the first. There were tremendously long roots hanging down from the trees above. At a guess I would say at least 400 feet.

Our guide was enthusiastic, but to me he was undereducated in the subject matter. For one thing, he said cavern was about twenty million years old. My impression as a geologist's son is that such caverns are ephemeral in geologic terms, a notion reinforced by a very large rock that had fallen from the ceiling in relatively recent times. The guide said it was before his time which meant little as the cavern was only fully explored in 1958. For all we really know, there could a crushed conquistador under that rock.

A trolley ride later, I was back on Leonardo and heading of to the Radiotelescope. It clearly isn't as popular as the roads weren't as well laid out. It was cattle country. (Hatillo has a sign giving the population as thirty-eight odd thousand and thirty odd thousand "vacas"!) I came around and down a bend to see a large bull with some very large horns. The horns were thick and went up rather than sideways like a Texas longhorn. I stop to take some pictures of the nearly motionless beast. As I watched it chew its cud, I had the silly thought: "It's a good thing I didn't wear the red shirt today as I would've it to charge me!"

The road that led to the observatory was tough with steep up hills and downhills. I had to push Leonardo several times. On one such incline, my phone rang. It was a call from the place I was to spend the night in Hatillo. The timing was unfortunate as I was out of breath, tired and being barked at by dogs. Consequently, I didn't get as much information from the people as I should have leading the trouble finding the place later on.

The observatory was very impressive. One more surprising uses they have put it to is to radar image asteroids! The short film they showed us made me suspect that new uses for it will be found in the years to come.

My trip back to Route 2 led me onto quite a small road that apparently doubled as a dump for the locals. I could hear a car behind me as a big truck appeared in front of me. I decided the best course of action was to get off the road and into the concert gutter as there was barely enough space for the two of them! The truck and car sorted themselves out. As he drove past, the young man in the car gave me an appreciative thumbs up in thanks.

On finishing

Finished! Too early as well! Admittedly, I cheated slightly by taking a ferry across San Juan Harbour but given that meant I avoid a lot of traffic and industrial areas, I think I am justified! I came across a cyclist who had read about me just before I left Route 3 for Route 688. I am waiting for my hotel room to be ready in a plaza nearby.

Note:
Fidel Ramirez later made a comment which I may have accidentally deleted.  It read:
"Nice to heard that everything was ok .....the ferry you just mention is the " lancha de cataño " so famous in PR .

Hope you like[d] your ride around PR"

On a long tough day

Warning: short entry as I am physically and emotionally wiped.

The first is from having ridden a laden Leonardo up to the Cavernas de Rio Camuy and to the Arecibo Radiotelescope then ridden like mad to get to Manati before the sunset.

Then my bed for the night proved to be very hard to find which was draining as the sun set and I had to dig out my headlamp. I was doing what I really didn't want to do: ride at night in Puerto Rico, especially on a Friday when drivers are more likely to be tired and/or possibly drunk. All the while hindsight was telling me "I told you so."

On coco frio and reef fish

I had planned to withdraw some more cash today (it being payday and all) but didn't give it too much mind. I left Mayaguez on Route 2 before leaving it at Aguadilla. I rode along the waterfront observing surfers and their antics. I left what I think of as Aguadilla proper by a lovely, but climbing twisty road shadowed by lush vegetation. It made for a cool but slightly humid climb.

Not too far from a slightly sleepy airport, I found a Banco Popular with a ATM. For some reason, it rejected my debit card. I tried my credit card as well and got the same result. I headed off hoping I would come across a more international bank such as Scotiabank (they have them here) or Santander. However, as I was down to less than $10 USD in terms of hard cash, I was a bit nervous.

I had turned the corner into the metaphorical home stretch along the North Coast. The trade wind was now in my face and progress was slower. As well, the sunburns on my arms began to bubble so I slathered on quite a lot of sunscreen. As well, I opted for a coastal bike path for a bit. All this combined to leave my legs with a lot of dust and sand on them by the end of the day!

The bike path ended at Isabella (named I assume for the back half of Ferdinand and Isabella).  I had steep climb and push to back on top of the bluff where the town center was. There, in a square surrounded with neatly painted buildings I found a Santander ATM from which extracted lovely money! I celebrated with piña colada sherbet at Rex Cream.

Later, I stopped to try coco frio at a roadside stand. I wasn't expecting the coconut juice to come in a half gallon plastic jug!

I found my hotel in Hatillo. (The "h" is silent.) The desk clerk knew me nearly on sight as she was the one who had taken my reservation the day before in which there had been mention of my bike. ;-) She tried to sell me on the hotel's pool though I was rather more interested in the (public) beach beyond the stand of mangrove trees behind the hotel.

After doing the day's hand washing of clothes, I set off in bathing togs, mask and snorkel in hand. There was a lovely sandy beach in a small lagoon with a little barrier reef of its own.  I waded in, then swam with my head down. The bottom was sand for a bit with little to see, until I noticed a fish foraging on the bottom. Your genuine, real life, wild, tropical fish. For someone brought up on a regular diet of nature documentaries, this was muy cool. And as such a person, I knew there would like be more fish nearer the rocky bits. Which indeed there was. I even think there was some "brain coral". The fish were of an assortment of about a dozen species, some with bold yellows and blues, others drab silver. They were mostly shaped a bit like spades from a deck of cards. The exception was one fish about a foot or more long that was long, slender and had a lean and hungry look about it. I can't say for certain but it looked a more actively predatory fish than the others, possibly something in the barracuda family. Unlike the other fish, it hung near the surface.

That swim was a definite highlight of this trip!