Today's the last full day of the trip. Quite a nice time I've had these past 14 days. I've grown in my understanding of Puerto Rico, a culturally distinct entity of the 'States, I have a broader appreciation for the latino masses on our own mainland, and most importantly, I've gotten acquainted with authentic rum. Bacardi shat aside, I've tried the good stuff. And by good I mean I can tolerate it in a mixed drink. Sorry, even the best brew still tastes slightly like turpentine to me.
Here are a couple of pics from Sunday. We went on a classic booze cruise, stopping our 46' catamaran at various sites for snorkeling and what not. The booze was all inclusive but I didn't much feel like partaking. Instead I made a hobby of applying sunscreen to my milkish epidermis.
My faith in sunscreen has been renewed. While the usual farmer-tan parts have gotten darker these last weeks, my uniform tan remains nil. So, paranoid of potential radiation overload, I lathered on 13.62 gallons of SPF 50 throughout the day. The reasoning was sound and thankfully I came away with nary a burn, save an uncomfortable tops-of-feet burn. That one always sneaks up on ya. I've probably sunscreened my feet four times in my life. It's just not natural.
All in all a good time yesterday despite being a mind-numbing tourist draw. Nothing very authentic about the experience. Although I did have an interesting discussion with the boat's captain, Saso. According to Saso, Ricky Martin's dad was on our cruise. Not only does he have a pop-star son, but a kick-ace speedo to round out the combo.
When pulling into the dock, we threw fruit to the Iguanas on the shore. Pretty weird seeing tens of Iguani scaling it through the high grass for some citrus leftovers. Look like mini-dragons.
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