Monday:


There isn't a lot to say about our Monday flying out. I didn't actually get any photos in PR, all the next ones are from Karen. We had a "continental breakfast" at El Canario on the Lagoon when we woke up. We headed to drop off the rental car, went to the airport, stood in many VERY long lines, and realized all the best tourist swag was there, so we shopped as quickly as possible and spent too much.

Airport...



So long, San Juan. I seriously hope I see you again.



Part of the lagoon, from the plane obviously.



This was my first time flying first class (despite the fact that we were supposed to have 2 first class flights to GET to Puerto Rico, but didn't because American Airlines Sucks.) I ordinarily am afraid enough of flying that I'm on the verge of tears most of the flight. I have never been so relaxed as I was in first class. I finally got a real Cuba Libre with Bacardi on the flight home ^_^ We saw Wild Hogs, which is better than you'd expect.

Here are some clouds...



When we started flying over the smaller Caribbean island, I was nearly ready to parachute down. LOOK at these puppies. They're gorgeous. If I could find a relatively hurricane-proof Caribbean island and a decent job, I would be out of here like a SHOT.



Does anyone know what islands the last islands or this island are?



All the rest of the pics are mine, BTW.

THEN we landed in Dallas and EVERYTHING turned to shit. Never, ever, ever fly American Airlines unless you win a free trip somewhere, and even THEN I don't recommend it. I can't remember all the details, but they gave us SUCH a runaround. Flights were cancelled, flights were delayed, we were transferred to another carrier, oh wait, no we weren't, the other carrier never HEARD of us, etc, etc. At one point one woman from American SPECIFICALLY LIED and told us to go to the wrong area of the airport when we had to get to the exact OPPOSITE area in only a few minutes. It's like they went out of their way to f*** us over.

Of course, when we finally got on an airplane, about 8 hours after we were supposed to, not only were Martin and I not in first class, AGAIN, even though Karen had gone to the point of spending EXTRA air miles just to ensure us a good trip, Martin and I weren't even seated together. I was in cattle class ALONE on a night trip, and was nearly panicking already, when Martin was able to get a passenger to switch seats to help keep me sane. The passengers, even the ones being effed over like us, were WAY nicer than the ba**ards working for American.

One highlight. I met a puppy at DFW. The owner let me pet him.





By the way, American left us at LAX when our car was in Burbank and didn't even give us vouchers for getting a trip to the car. It cost Karen almost another hundred dollars just to get back to the car.

NEVER EVER EVER FLY AMERICAN AIRLINES!!

When we finally got our luggage back, about a day later, it occurred to me there were a couple of shots I should have gotten in PR but didn't. Firstly, when we did our trip to see the glowy bay, Martin mentioned to a guy playing a claw machine that I liked the sort of toy he won. So he just gave it to him for me ^_^ So I got a Patrick Star from Spongebob from some guy I never even met ^_^ Also, when Michelle went to the caves she bought me a little coqui frog that makes real frog noises. Wasn't that sweet? Here they both are...



Also, do you remember when we first got to PR? Of course you don't, I took forever to make all these pages. In any case, we finally get to the house in Arecibo, I'm running on maybe 6 hours of sleep in the last 5 days, and decide to stand in the ocean for a minute drinking local rum because dammit, I deserved it. I found a piece of driftwood that had washed up, and it was apparently drilled with holes at one point. In my bizarre state of mind it looked EXACTLY like an alligator to me. So I took it inside and drew on it with a pen to finish the transformation. It's possibly my favorite souvenir, because it reminds me of the moment of huge relief of finally getting there, being on a tropical island, bed close by, food close by, travelling done, standing in the ocean with rum.

See? The eyes are actually holes already in it, I only drew the top half...



So the upshot of all these pages? If you can possibly get to Puerto Rico, especially the real PR, outside of San Juan, you really must. And never, ever, ever fly American because They Suck!

Comments, as usual, in my livejournal.