As Messy Suitcase makes the rounds of rum distilleries across Puerto Rico, we discovered a new boutique one in Old San Juan and decided to pay a visit. Scryer Rum Barrelhouse & Rooftop is a small-batch, pot-distilled sipping rum distillery in a gorgeous historic building.
Sipping
“Sipping” is industry-speak for expensive – the good stuff you drink on its own, as opposed to the cheap stuff you pour into a cocktail.
Scryer was founded by a couple of buddies shortly before the pandemic. Garrett, who led our tour, started his alcohol education in whiskey and brought that expertise to rum distilling. But while the partners have created a delicious sipping rum, a lovely bar and a delightful rooftop, they have a lot to learn about running a good tour! They missed out on a lot of opportunities. Find out why in this video.
(Sorry in advance for the loud music in the background – they conduct the tour right next to the noisy bar.)
Beto’s enjoying a last hour of beach time before we fly to the snowy northeast today.
Lisa is capping her last run in San Juan in 2021 with coffee and a pastry (from 787 Coffee, of course) by the ocean.
Enjoy some last images of the weird, wonderful beach at Punta Las Marías, our home for the past month.
There’s Bob, on his favorite beach!
This evening we board a plane bound for Manchester, NH, where our car is parked. Then, tomorrow we plan to get up super early, drive across the state of Vermont before an approaching snowstorm, scoop up Gavin and his cat Ellie at Champlain College in Burlington, and drive down to Sarasota, NY for the night. On Sunday, we rise early and drive another seven hours to our next home: Washington, DC!
We are not looking forward to going from 84 degrees to 29 in a few hours’ time.
We just spent a glorious month in the northeast coastal town of Luquillo, Puerto Rico. When we left our seventh-floor condo with its glorious view of the ocean after a month’s stay, we thought sadly that there was no way our next place could possibly be as good. Especially since it was in San Juan, a metropolitan area, instead of an idyllic beach town.
We were wrong.
The pink one on top is our house at Punta las Marias. This is the view walking back from the beach.
I Hate Halfways
I always have trouble with the concept of “halfway.” Any time I’m on vacation, I get a little depressed when we pass the midpoint. In my mind, every minute from then on takes me a step closer to the end of vacation.
So we have one month left of our stay in Puerto Rico, and that meant moving to our second residence, just 40 minutes west. When we pulled into the driveway of 6 Calle Villa Internacional at Punta Las Marias, a coastal residential neighborhood at the eastern edge of San Juan, we were greeted by John Lombardo, the gregarious American who owns this house, his friendly old dog Lola and cat Putzie. He immediately made us feel at home, giving us a tour of the property and our apartment.
Our house is the blue dot
There are actually four apartments in two adjacent houses united by a covered courtyard. John and his wife Sylvia live in the front building, and there are two units on the ground floor. As he led us to ours, Kaylee in tow in her travel crate, we passed several comfortable seating areas, a desk and chair, two hammocks, and a barbecue grill. Kaylee hissed at the curious cat and dog as they sniffed at her before we ascended the stairs to our apartment.
And what an apartment!
It exceeded all expectations.
First view
First of all, the ocean is crashing against the rocks literally 50 feet from our front door. Salty breezes chase each other through the apartment. The unit is huge, with two large bedrooms, two large bathrooms, and a generous living/dining/kitchen.
The master bedroom has a king-sized bed, a sitting area, a large desk, and a huge walk-in closet.
The second bedroom, which Gavin will use when he comes home for Thanksgiving next week, has a queen-sized bed (which Kaylee the cat immediately claimed) and a desk (which Bob immediately claimed).
Kaylee also loves the little rug in the living room. When we were in Luquillo, it took her a month to relax into the place. Here she has immediately adjusted.
Kaylee likes everywhere and everything
The piece de resistance for me is the reading nook next to a bookshelf.
Great Location
We can walk out to the ocean, turn right, and walk to Isla Verde Beach. We’re a block off Calle Loiza, a street famous for its huge variety of restaurants and coffee shops. There’s an ice cream shop on the corner and a coffee shop with the best brunches in town a block away. Even the grocery store is within walking distance. Old San Juan is a 15-minute drive.
Views from the house
Visiting Cat
Putzie keeps dropping by to visit. A couple of days ago she licked my yogurt bowl clean on the patio and Kaylee hissed at her through the screen. This morning she returned and peed on the pavement and rug right outside the door, marking the territory as hers. We’ll keep you posted on the kitty drama.
I think we’re going to be happy here. Kaylee certainly is. This place just feels like home.
The first time I set foot on the island of Puerto Rico was Jan. 6, 1994, when I moved there from Manhattan to become Caribbean Correspondent for The Associated Press. The AP flew me down and put me up in a beautiful hotel right on the ocean. When I arrived, I surveyed the pristine golden beach and the clear turquoise sea from my hotel room window, feeling so lucky to have landed in such a wonderful place. Before I went to bed my first night, I stood on my balcony looking out at the moon and stars and listening to the distinctive chirping of the coquis, Puerto Rican tree frogs, and the roar of the ocean crashing onto the beach.
Paradise, I thought.
I woke up with a splitting headache and an acrid stench filling my nostrils. I stumbled to the window, opened the shades, and all I could see out to the horizon was black tar. No turquoise sea. No golden sand. Black water and a filthy beach. What the hell had happened while I was sleeping?
By https://www.flickr.com/people/jamidwyer/ – https://www.flickr.com/photos/jamidwyer/2127856702/, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22654928
I called the AP San Juan Bureau from my hotel and dictated a quick story, and then–since I didn’t even have a rental car yet–grabbed a notebook and pen, threw on running clothes and shoes, and set out on foot down the road closest to the ocean, Avenida Ashford, trying to make sense of it. Miraculously, when I got to the end of the Condado area, right before the Dos Hermanos Bridge that crosses Condado Lagoon, a helicopter landed right in front of me and Puerto Rico Gov. Pedro J. Rosselló stepped out, there to survey the damage.
I was able to interview him, and broke a huge story before my first day on the job. It turns out that during the night, the Morris J. Berman, a barge carrying 1.5 million gallons of oil, had drifted toward shore and collided with a coral reef, which ripped a hole in its hull and allowed 750,000 gallons of heavy black oil to spill into the Atlantic Ocean.
I learned later, after crossing telephone wires and finding myself talking to the officer in charge of the investigation, that the man who was at the helm of the barge that night drank too much and fell asleep at the wheel, which was why the barge was just drifting and was able to hit the reef.
By NOAA – https://photos.orr.noaa.gov/gallery_4/incidents-11.htm, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=53401938
The spill sullied 100 miles of shoreline and had a huge impact on the health of shore and sea birds, ocean life, vegetation, and of course tourism. You can read all about it here. (Unfortunately, I can’t find my original story online, as this was pre-Internet.)
Two days ago and 27 years later, I was walking through Condado, again on my first day in San Juan, and found some signs put up by the San Juan Estuary Program that mentioned the grounding of the Berman and subsequent environmental impact.
This poster is very weathered but perhaps you can read it. It talks about the environmental impact, clean-up efforts, and promotes the maintenance of this region.
This poster certainly brought back dramatic memories of that incident, which affected my life in many ways. It gave me the opportunity to come flying out of the gates as a foreign correspondent, breaking a huge story the morning after I arrived on the island. It shaped my reporting for the next year as the government focused on the investigation of the spill and clean-up challenges.
Twenty-seven years later, I’m back in San Juan, this time to live for two months. The beach is pristine and the ocean is glorious. There’s no evidence of the environmental damage the Morris Berman wrought.
Still, I am reminded to never take for granted nature’s beauty, and that we all have a responsibility to keep our world clean.
