Two summers ago I packed up a blue Honda Pilot and road tripped across the good ole’ United States with my boyfriend, Richard, and his twin brother/my best friend, Wilson. We spent two weeks camping at Big Sur, driving on Route 66 in the middle of the night, and watching the sun set over Yosemite Valley. (If you want to hear more about this trip, look here). Because wanderlust is unsatisfiable at its best, of course, we planned another trip for the summer of 2015. After much debate and my boyfriend’s insistence on there being surf at this next destination, we decided to explore Puerto Rico.
Puerto Rico is arguably the spiciest of the Caribbean islands—its’ inhabitants drive fast, drink hard, and laugh even harder. Claimed in 1493 by Christopher Columbus, the small commonwealth has a rich history marked by a mixing of cultures. The result? Breathtaking architecture, bomba music, mofongo and plenty of Don Q in coconuts.
Richard and I began our journey in the heart of Old San Juan (OSJ), where we stayed in one of Omar’s rooms on Calle San Francisco. Omar is Puerto Rican-born and Boston-raised, and you can find him and his odd accent on Airbnb. After two days of learning to salsa dance, meeting new friends in bars, feeding the pigeons at Parque de las Palomas, and accidentally running into La Perla (oops), we rented a car so we could explore more of what the island had to offer.
In all honesty, our first day trip away from the gorgeous, colorful OSJ was pretty disappointing. We went to Fajardo and El Yunque National Rainforest only to find that it was extraordinarily commercialized—El Yunque had tourist chains where they should have placed parking lots, or even better, let the national rainforest be a national rainforest. Nevertheless, the days that ensued were amazing thanks to a little tip from our new friend, Jim. (Side note: the guy staying in the room next door to us in OSJ, Jim, was actually a Boston College Grad and used to live in a house on CoRo. How crazy is that?!). He told us to check out Arecibo, a little beach city on the north coast of the island. Our first trip to Arecibo was spent exploring a hidden cove, surfing little swells, and meeting Jesús.
Jesús quickly became our closest friend on the island, and we still keep in touch with him. Middle-aged and kind-eyed, Jesús would call us (he was bad at texting) when the swells were good, and always brought an extra board for Richard to use. He took us to all of the secret surf spots—some of which involved parking in an old lady’s front yard and paying her $1 to rinse-off with her hose post-session—and brought us to the best restaurant in Arecibo’s quaint downtown.
After a couple of day trips to Arecibo, we finally packed our bags and made the long drive to Aguadilla, on the west coast. Here, we decided to CoachSurf, meaning that a nice man was letting us stay in his house for free. Sounds creepy, right? It was actually amazing. Our host, Bernhard, was large and Austrian and AWESOME! He had a four bedroom house, fully furnished with IKEA, of course, and he cooked us pad thai one night and poured us shots of scary European liquor. We ate at a French bakery two or three times a day, and explored lighthouse ruins and empty beaches. We drove up and down the northwestern coast—surf shops in Rincón and restaurants in Isabela.
On our last full day in Puerto Rico, Richard and I followed our incredibly inaccurate map to Gozalandia Waterfalls, where I swam in crystal clear waters while Richard dove off way-too-high cliffs. Our last pit stop was Arecibo; we just didn’t feel right leaving the island without giving Jesús a proper goodbye. The boys surfed through the evening, and we followed Jesús back to his home. His 90-year-old mother, Elsie, picked us starfruit from the front yard and poured us large glasses of mango juice while she searched for the English words to say what she wanted to say. It was one of the most touching experiences of our lives, and it’s something Richard and I will never forget.
We would have never met Omar, Jim, Jesús, or Bernhard if we hadn’t taken some chances, rented a car, and road tripped across the tiny, mystical island that is Puerto Rico. I can’t stress enough how important it is to truly experience the culture you’re visiting. Venture outside of your hotel, leave the tourist-filled streets lined with Chili’s and Subways, and rent a car and explore. Happy travels!