Basking beneath Puerto Rican sun
YOU know things are going pretty well when the big family argument is over whether to splash in the rain forest waterfall or loll around on the white-sand beach.
You know things are even better when you realise you can do both in a single day and not tax the patience or interest of three children.
From our weeklong base at a rental condo in Rio Grande – there are plenty of them on sites like Airbnb – we had such debates, the kind of decisionmaking that vacations should be about.
It was winter break for our three, ages 11 to 15, and having not travelled far since a move from Mexico nearly two years ago, they pushed for someplace warm off the mainland.
We settled on Puerto Rico, where we had always wanted to go and which, while a commonwealth, is far enough off the mainland (just under four hours from Kennedy Airport), and culturally apart, too, to count in their reckoning.
Having lived in warm climates for several years, we found that even this relatively mild winter in New York was grinding on us, so almost any natural sunlamp would do.
Rio Grande, a coastal and jungle resort town about 32 kilometres east of the capital, San Juan, could not have been more perfect, given that almost every attraction could be reached in 30 minutes or less. Our debates evolved into which day trip was more satisfying.
Although Puerto Rico tends to conjure images of palms and beaches, the rain forest just down the road beckoned, as something a little different.
You could do worse than start with the rain forest.
The El Yunque National Forest, a verdant expanse the size of San Francisco and the only tropical rainforest in the US forest system, has trails that are clean, well-maintained and well-marked from the roads cutting through it. They funnel you through a rainforest canopy, ringing with the chirps, croaks and shrieks of birds, frogs and other animals, to enticing swimming holes and waterfalls with enough chill in the water to refresh from the near 32-degree heat but not enough to keep you out.
La Coca Trail, for instance, rises and falls on its path to the big payoff: a roaring waterfall and pool that beckon you for a dip and, if you can tolerate the pelting, a shower. A hike a little downstream offers more private relaxing.
Angelito Trail nearby provides an easier walk and more mellow bathing in a large stream, although locals told us it can get brisk after rains. One natural pool there was deep enough for our two boys to jump from a rope swing.
Our anxiety had to do with giving the kids enough of the beach time they demanded. Pick your pleasure. A nameless beach a few minutes down the road from our apartment complex, and accessible via a path of wooden planks, offered fierce waves, which delighted the children as they twisted in the curling break but kept me on guard. The sand and grass beach was narrow and scattered with seaweed, the kind of relatively isolated place you might crave for an only-the-locals experience, but it might disappoint if you expect comfort and, maybe, an umbrella.
We had the most fun at a public beach called Playa Luquillo, 10 minutes down the road. For $5.50, we parked, set up our chairs (you can rent them, and umbrellas, too) and joined local families and fellow bargain hunters. There are concession stands, and the beach abuts a line of food and souvenir kiosks.
Vendors come by hawking fresh seafood from coolers. We tried the shrimp and grilled octopus in homemade mojo sauce and ran after the vendor for more.
But the best beach by far, and one of the most spectacular we have seen in our years of travel in Mexico and the Caribbean, was Culebra Island.
It requires about a 25-kilometre drive east from Rio Grande to a ferry at the seaside village of Fajardo; it’s a good idea to get there an hour or more before the scheduled time to ensure a seat.
After a ferry trip of an hour to 90 minutes, depending on how long it takes to board everyone, you arrive at a funky beach town with taxi buses ready to whisk you to beaches, snorkelling, Jet Skis and other activities. With our children growing anxious, we opted for the closest beach, Playa Flamenco, and were enthralled.
A white-sand beach awaited. Swimming-pool-clear water extended metres out, waistdeep, and even deeper water was the blue of a dusky sky.
Gentle but persistent waves playfully banged around the young (and older) daredevils. The presence of a coral reef just offshore seemed an impossibly over-the-top perk, but it had enough fish – lots of blue tang for Finding Dory fans – poking around to lure us, some of them zooming off to the shoreline.
The one cultural stop we will remember is a bit off the beaten path, in Loiza, a small city that is the heart of AfroPuerto Rican culture. There, Afro-Puerto Rican artist Samuel Lind has a rambling gallery and workshop where he sells paintings and prints.
His works depict everyday scenes and folklore of African descendants who make up a significant part of the island’s population. We were entranced at the large print of a bomba dancer, so he walked us across the street to meet Raquel Ayala, the subject and part of a large family of dancers. She has the original painting on a wall.
The visit reminded us of the charm of this corner of Puerto Rico, a casual place with rich rewards in easy reach.