Wear good, non-slippery water shoes and a bathing suit if you decide to visit Gozalandia Falls, because you will not be able to keep from jumping into the enticing pool at the foot of this huge waterfall! The main waterfall is truly amazing, at least 50 feet tall, and there are several places where you can climb up and jump in (at your own risk). Or just swim in the pool at the bottom, watching fish swim around your feet.
There is a cement sidewalk and stairs to lead you to the main falls and several above, plus you can just walk in the creekbed.
The drive to get to Gozalandia on narrow, winding mountain roads is not for the faint of heart, which is the only reason you might consider paying a guide to take you. Otherwise, just set out on your own and navigate carefully! It’s about 1 1/2 from San Juan in San Sebastien.
The gate is open from 10 AM-6 PM, and there is a $10 charge for parking. Go early to avoid the crowds, though the community feel of lots of people watching each other swim and jump has its own appeal. Make sure you take time to enjoy a drink and snack at the end of the day in the little restaurant by the parking lot, which overlooks a green pond populated by turtles.
Be aware that the falls can be dangerous if there’s a lot of rain, so use caution and common sense.
Amazingly, the actual Guajataca Tunnel (pronounced gwa-hah-TAH-kah) was the least interesting part of this hike. And the tunnel was fantastic! But, as always happens when you’re as open to new discoveries, we found so much more.
We hiked through the tunnel and westward along rocky cliffs, with dazzling turquoise sea to our right.
We forked left and crossed a butterfly meadow, filled with plants that attract and feed those lovely insects, such as calotropis procera, and oplonia spinosa, almendro (terminalia catappa), jayajbico (erithalis fruticose). Here are the ones we saw, plus a caterpillar of unknown type.
We later learned it was in fact a frangipani worm and not a caterpillar at all. They can grow up to 6 inches long, travel in hordes, do an incredible amount of damage, and eventually turn into big brown moths.
Puerto Rico does have its own species of monarch butterfly called the macho monarca, which doesn’t migrate. Unfortunately, it doesn’t pose for pictures, either! But here’s one from USDA.
The macho monarca can also be found in the Virgin Islands, Cuba, the Cayman Islands, St. Lucia and Jamaica.
We found a posterboard about this butterfly and its diet when we exited the tunnel back into the park.
Hiking back along the ocean, powerful waves exploded against jagged boulders rising up from the shallow sea. We passed several remnants of wooden boats that we speculated might have carried aspiring migrants across the ocean from Haiti.
We also found wooden steps, yawning caves, a few creatures, and even a lone dead crab, perfectly preserved on the sand.
LizardRed-billed oyster catcher
The tunnel itself, which connects the towns of Quebradillas and Isabela, is a remnant of the sugar cane era, when trains were used to transport sugar cane from the farms in the area.
Local artists have given walls some color with murals, and we found local artisans and food vendors.
The white-sand PlayaGuajataca beside it, protected by a glorious grove of palm trees, stretched east to a campground and river. Settle into your beach chairs and you will enjoy a lot of shade and gorgeous cliff views.
Crashboat Beach has something for everyone — a gentle surf that beckons children in donut floats as much as adults drinking piña coladas, shady areas for relaxing, warm sand for sunbathing, a fascinating old pier jutting out into the water that teens love to jump off, food trucks with pinchos (kebabs) and smoothies, and amazing sunset views. But what Lisa found most interesting was UNDER the water!
Traveling in retirement is not all sweetness and light, despite what Messy Suitcase’s social media might suggest. We post photos from beautiful beaches and interesting places, but usually don’t share the logistics of how we got there. Or how we ran from the beach to the car because of a sudden unexpected downpour. Or about the fact that I am currently nursing a broken rib from tripping on a root and falling during a hike. There are plenty of obstacles and inconveniences to our traveling retirement that we grapple with daily, just like there were when we still worked.
We decided it was time to share a few, to give our lifestyle some balance, in this new series, Trouble in Paradise. In Part 1, we focus on transportation.
Flying
Leaving DC. The views are amazing, even if the flights are a pain.
Air transportation is an unavoidable hassle if you’re going to live a traveling life. As soon as we arrive in a place, we have to start planning how and when we are going to get to the next one. We fly almost exclusively on Southwest Airlines right now, because we have thousands of airline miles and a Companion Pass good through the end of 2022. This helps keep our retirement life affordable. But it’s not always convenient, especially in the time of COVID.
For example, in January we booked a flight back to the United States from Puerto Rico for May 3, 2022. Last week, Southwest changed it so egregiously that the second leg was the day before the first, a physical impossibility. It took hours to fix this, including long telephone wait times, until they finally fixed the glitchy website so we could change the flight online. Then, two days later, they changed the flight again! We were originally going to arrive in DC at 8 PM. At this point, it’s 10:15 PM. I can’t wait to see what happens next (she said sarcastically).
Traveling during COVID times means securing the right kind of COVID-19 tests (as specified by the airline or the government of the place you’re entering), getting them administered correctly, with results returned in the specified time frame, filling out all airline COVID forms, making sure we have the safest masks to protect us, and choosing seats near the back of the plane (the safest part).
Packing
Fitting everything you need for three or four months of life into your luggage is difficult as well, especially if your lifestyle includes snorkeling and other athletic pursuits. Alas, my bike doesn’t fit in my suitcase, but I pack bike shorts and a helmet for when I am able to rent a bike. My tennis shoes fit, and just one tennis outfit, but I have to rent a racket at the club where I play. And speaking of shoes, while I am no Carrie Bradshaw, I cannot travel for months on end without all of my favorite Aetrex sandals! As well as running shoes. And hiking shoes. And Keens for the beach. It adds up.
Kaylee helping pack
And then there’s the TRX home workout equipment, and a yoga mat, for staying strong and flexible, even while on the road. There’s snorkel gear. There’s the cat’s stuff, toys and litter box, bowls, and food. There’s jewelry. And my computer and tablet. And chargers. Sweaters and pants for cool evenings. bathing suits and goggles. Vitamins and medication. Toiletries. A hair drier.
I think you get the picture. We pack as light as possible, but it’s still a lot of stuff.
Getting Around
When we were living in Mexico, we drove our covered Toyota Tacoma down from the United States, after retrofitting the back latches of the cap to secure our possessions. We would then park where we were living, and rely as much as possible on public transit or Uber.
Public transit can really simplify life, but first, it complicates it, because you have to learn how it works in every city. How much does a ride cost? Bus or subway? Do you get a ticket? Pay cash? Exact change? A Metrocard? An app on your phone? Where are the stops or stations? What are the hours? What about transfers? Safety? How do you get from Point A to Point B? There’s a trip planning app called Moovit that really helps with this. Google Maps also helps chart a public transit route.
Uber is another great resource – better than cabs, in our opinion, because it’s more secure, and you know before the car arrives what it will cost to take you to your destination, and many drivers are happy to share their recommendations for restaurants, neighborhoods to visit and local experiences.
But we often need to rent a car. It’s a huge expense, and finding one that doesn’t break the bank when you are staying for months at a time is really hard. Last year, we found a deal on Enterprise after searching for weeks. Then, when we arrived in Puerto Rico, they told us we would have to bring the car back to San Juan International Airport every month to renew it. Since we were traveling to the east end of the island, that was a huge inconvenience. So on the renewal day, we spent an afternoon searching for an Enterprise local to our lodging, had that worker call San Juan, and got the car extended – we hoped.
A couple of weeks later, we found a $150 ticket on the car for expired registration. They had given us a car for three months without making sure the registration would last the duration! Bob got pulled over again the following week for the same issue, but was able to talk his way out of a ticket. We spent the last few weeks dodging police traffic stops so that we wouldn’t get another ticket. We got Enterprise to cover the cost of the ticket, in the end, though I thought they might blame us because we had not brought the car to San Juan in person after a month as instructed.
Damage and Destruction
We took that first car, a Ford Focus I believe, on a rutted dirt road to a deserted beach and managed to loosen the front left quarter panel, then spent the next two months pushing it back in place daily. The car was a very low rider, and every bump in the road scraped that damned quarter panel. (We noticed that most cars had the same problem; roads in Puerto Rico can be very bad.) In the end, there was an insurance claim on the car, which was covered by a combination of our USAA Auto Insurance and the coverage provided by American Express. Still, a hassle!
We are currently renting from Avis at a low(ish) rate I secured through Priceline. The first car they gave us had a nonworking cigarette lighter, which we needed to power our GPS. (We had discovered there are dead spots in the mountains and will no longer travel without the GPS. See Packing for why this is an inconvenient solution.) We took the car back immediately and got upgraded to the only other car on the lot, a Hyundai Tucson SUV, which is actually way better for Puerto Rican driving.
But … five weeks into our stay this time, Bob looked at the front wheel and saw this:
Check out that gouge, one of several. And the cracks!
Holy shit! We were driving on a grossly defective tire that looked like it could explode catastrophically at any time! We called Avis Roadside Assistance in Puerto Rico. Busy signal. FOR TWO DAYS. We called the local Avis, at Aguadilla Airport, 20 minutes away. Non-stop ringing, or busy signal. FOR TWO DAYS. We called Avis in the United States. They connected us to US Roadside Assistance, who told us to call PR Roadside Assistance. I sent an email to Avis. They apologized for any inconvenience – four days later – told us to call PR Roadside Assistance. I lost all my hair pulling it out in frustration.
In the end, we just drove to the damned airport, where of course, the solitary Avis employee was not coming in for another hour. We went out to lunch, returned, and a miracle happened. The man at the desk made a phone call, gave us instructions to a gomera (tire place), and the tire was changed before we had time to finish piña coladas at a bar down the road.
Speaking of Tickets
We found a ticket on our car again last week when we returned to it after a day at the beach. I knew the registration wasn’t expired – it was the first thing I had checked. Puerto Rican traffic tickets are almost impossible to decipher, but I finally figured out that we had parked facing the wrong direction, and had to pay $50. It would be knocked down to $35 if we paid within 2 weeks.
Who can read this?
But how to pay? There was no website, no address to mail. Off to Mr. Google! I found guidance here – and learned that you have to pay in person – isn’t this 2022, people? – at a place called CESCO (the Motor Vehicles Department). There’s a CESCO Office near the Avis place in Aguadilla, so we went there after getting our new tire. The CESCO person sent us to another office, Hacienda (Finance department), at the other end of the same strip mall, where we joined a socially-distanced outdoor line of people holding boletos (tickets).
While Bob waited, I bought breakfast pastries at the bakery next store, and on the way back noticed a barcode on the Hacienda door that would have allowed us to schedule our appointment in advance and not wait in line. It would have been nice to know about that! But we were there already, in line, and hoped we were close enough to the front to get in before the office closed for the day at 3:30 PM (although the website said it closed at 5.) We were fortunate to be the last people allowed in! And both the door monitor and the woman behind the desk (one of only two people working inside) were extremely helpful friendly and spoke English. The woman did warn us to make sure we provided the car rental agency with evidence this ticket was paid so they wouldn’t try to charge us for it again.
Meanwhile, Back in the States
Since we flew to PR from Washington National Airport, our Toyota Tacoma is parked in an underground garage in Crystal City, VA, for what I considered a very reasonable monthly rate of $130. I did a lot of research to find this low rate at this convenient location. Imagine my surprise when I received an email from SpotHero last month, two weeks after I parked the car there, telling me the rate was going up to $200 – a 50% increase – beginning the very next month! Obviously, there is no way to move this car out of the garage until we return. We just have to suck it up. And though I wrote a scathing email to SpotHero, I received no response and have no recourse but to pay until we take the car out on May 4.
We had a magical snorkeling experience in Rincon, where we encountered a huge abundance of healthy sea coral, aquatic life, and even a couple of hawksbill turtles!
Caribar, the beautiful bar inside the Caribe Hilton in San Juan, boasts that bartender Ramon ‘Monchito’ Perez invented the piña colada there in 1954.
Piña colada at Caribar
No, wait, that’s Barrachina a Spanish restaurant in Old San Juan, where traditional Spanish bartender Don Ramon Portas Mingot created the original recipe in 1963.
Piña coladas in Barrachina
Neither side is backing down. Which bar is the birthplace of Puerto Rico’s iconic drink? That may never be settled. So in our opinion, the real question is, which bar makes the best piña colada?
And can either version approach the deliciousness of Lisa’s piña colada recipe? Bob gives them the taste test! Enjoy the video:
Caribar‘s address is Calle Los Rosales, San Juan, on the lowest level of the Caribe Hilton Hotel. Barrachina is located at 104 C. de la Fortaleza, Old San Juan.
People go to Vieques for island life, a legendary bioluminescent bay, and fantastic snorkeling. But it is truly a one-of-a-kind experience in so many other ways, whether you’re passing a group of wild horses in the roadway, finding a secluded beach spot to call your own, or watching a tropical sunrise from a beach bar.
Ever wonder where chocolate comes from? It starts its life inside a pod that grows from a plant called cacao on a lush mountainside in a wet forest in the tropics. How do I know? I went there to find out.
We recently visited Finca Hekiti (Finca means “farm”, Hekiti means “one” in the Taino language) for an educational experience in a cacao forest in the Las Marias Mountains west of Mayaguez. In addition to learning the farming practices used on an agro-ecological site to grow and harvest fine-grain cacao, we learn about the importance of agroforestry, permaculture, and nature conservation.
Our tour guide was Ricardo, who purchased these four acres of extremely hilly, lush land with his wife Vivienne in 2014.
The family lives in this tricked-out shipping container when on the farm
Ricardo, a tall, rangy man with a curly beard, taught us that cacao doesn’t grow in neatly tended rows, like you’ll find on a farm, but as part of a symbiotic forest ecosystem. It nestles among other trees, many of them bearing fruit such as bananas and oranges, and plants that all have their own roles. The cacao tree does need to be pruned and maintained, but there is no irrigation. It gets sun and water at the whim of nature, including enduring a six-to-seven-month-long rainy season every year. Ricardo explained how he uses a process called grafting to improve new plants and make existing ones stronger.
Ricardo beside a cacao tree. The orange pod is ripe. The green one is not ready yet.
He took us on a half-mile hike around the extremely steep and windy agroforest, stopping frequently to show us medicinal plants and explain their purposes (in addition to letting us smell and taste them). We chewed a plant that numbs the mouth, and one that is used for brushing teeth!
Images of Cacao
Cacao on the treeA cacao podThe inside of a podThe pulp (which tastes like mango)A cacao seed, cut in halfDark chocolate for tasting
We tasted dark chocolate with hints of cinnamon and cayenne pepper. Delicious!
Finca Hekiti doesn’t process the cacao, so we didn’t get to watch him turn the cacao beans into chocolate. That actually takes a long time, including fermenting, drying, winnowing, roasting, and flavoring. He is planning to produce cocoa nibs, which are small pieces of crushed cacao beans that have abundant health benefits. Learn more here.
If you’re ever in Puerto Rico, you can find this tour through AirbBnB Experiences or on the Finca Hekiti Facebook page. The cost was $25 each, plus tax, quite reasonable for 3 1/2 hours.
