So, the question for me is whether Puerto Ricans, taken as a whole, are imbeciles or mathematical geniuses, and the line between madness and greatness is a fine one. Here's the thing: get into a rental car at the airport and the whole experience is pure US. The rental agent is spiffy in her uniform, even at 3:30 am, cheerful and efficient. The car looks like a US rental, steering wheel on the proper side, speedometer in miles per hour, and the vehicle comes dent and scratch free.On the road, signage is all American, yellow center lines and white speed limit signs in miles per hour (millas por hora, I suppose), and then you notice the mile markers- in kilometers! What the hell? Distances are in metric? Then, eventually you go to fill up and it just gets worse.
The first weird thing you'll notice is that the octane rating sticker is cross hatched with a blade to make it impossible to remove so the operator can't sell you regular for premium. Like any other state Puerto Rico's office of weights and measures certify that the pumps spew gas at the indicated rate, but the pumps are calibrated in liters- actually in litres. The average price for regular was about the same as the mainland, around 75 cents ( which at 4 litres to the US gallon equals a tad under $3.00).
The first weird thing you'll notice is that the octane rating sticker is cross hatched with a blade to make it impossible to remove so the operator can't sell you regular for premium. Like any other state Puerto Rico's office of weights and measures certify that the pumps spew gas at the indicated rate, but the pumps are calibrated in liters- actually in litres. The average price for regular was about the same as the mainland, around 75 cents ( which at 4 litres to the US gallon equals a tad under $3.00).I'm fussy about these kinds of things and my mind is reeling. I'm measuring speed in mph, distances in kilometers and measuring my gas in liters while cars are rated at mpg. Its a system of such mind boggling complexity one can only assume that Puerto Rican drivers are geniuses at mental arithmetic, all of them, or more likely they just don't much care. This alone would make me crazy were I to live on the island.
A solid decade of prosperity has changed a lot of things on the island and driving habits are among them. There are malls, sprouting to service new housing developments and traffic signals everywhere to slow traffic to a crawl. Certainly the population has increased to about 4 million and the island is still only 100 miles long (160 kilometers I suppose) and half as wide making it the highest density neighborhood in the Caribbean. However Puerto Ricans seemed more friendly and relaxed than I remembered them. Perhaps it was the time of year, which was the end of hurricane season yet not quite crazy tourist time so people were less stressed.
A solid decade of prosperity has changed a lot of things on the island and driving habits are among them. There are malls, sprouting to service new housing developments and traffic signals everywhere to slow traffic to a crawl. Certainly the population has increased to about 4 million and the island is still only 100 miles long (160 kilometers I suppose) and half as wide making it the highest density neighborhood in the Caribbean. However Puerto Ricans seemed more friendly and relaxed than I remembered them. Perhaps it was the time of year, which was the end of hurricane season yet not quite crazy tourist time so people were less stressed.Most chose not to run traffic lights and very few passed on the shoulder when we were driving the expressway (autopista). Most surprising of all was the way everyone obeyed the speed limit, which was ridiculously slow, 55 or 60 mph.
Motorcyclists, almost all of whom rode Suzuki Hayabusas ("the fastest production motorcycle in the world"- possibly) helped to make me feel a little less lonely at the front of the pack of slow moving cars. I developed a theory that people drove slowly because they liked to make the island feel bigger. After all one could drive from Fajardo clear across to Mayaguez on more-or-less four lane expressways in three hours, easily. On a Hayabusa in two, and at either end there is nothing but open ocean.
Motorcyclists, almost all of whom rode Suzuki Hayabusas ("the fastest production motorcycle in the world"- possibly) helped to make me feel a little less lonely at the front of the pack of slow moving cars. I developed a theory that people drove slowly because they liked to make the island feel bigger. After all one could drive from Fajardo clear across to Mayaguez on more-or-less four lane expressways in three hours, easily. On a Hayabusa in two, and at either end there is nothing but open ocean.This was also I am proud to announce one motoring trip where I never got pulled over. This summer I was nabbed in Croatia doing 74 in a 50 (kph) and only avoided a fine by the skin of my teeth. I also got pulled over for doing 50 in a 30 (mph) on Grand Cayman and got off with a warning. However my pride at not getting stopped is tempered somewhat by the odd nature of Puerto Rican policing which for reasons known only to themselves requires police cars to drive around in the hours of darkness with their blue lights flashing. This makes concealment difficult, to say the least. And the hordes of early morning drunk drivers take full advantage. That was exciting driving.
I loved the winding twisty roads, the sort of terrain one doesn't see anywhere in Florida, least of all the Keys, and the mountains of Puerto Rico deserve an entry of their own, their beauty is staggering, but for some reason Puerto Rico has more vegetation over their roads than any place else I've driven and it makes the most mundane road delightful.
The towns we passed through on the secondary roads exuded a European air that gave the drive an exotic flavor. Churches faced on squares that centered the communities in defiance of the US habit of creating urban agglomerations that are centered on sprawl. The homes were modest for the most part, but I was surprised by the civic spirit that got the Christmas decorations in place so early in the "season" as it were. Yacubo at dawn on Saturday was cheerful with festive lights twinkling overhead.
The towns we passed through on the secondary roads exuded a European air that gave the drive an exotic flavor. Churches faced on squares that centered the communities in defiance of the US habit of creating urban agglomerations that are centered on sprawl. The homes were modest for the most part, but I was surprised by the civic spirit that got the Christmas decorations in place so early in the "season" as it were. Yacubo at dawn on Saturday was cheerful with festive lights twinkling overhead.
Even in broad daylight the village of Palmer, the gateway to El Yunque, is a profusion of green, some of it out of control in this overly fertilized island.
Motorcycling certainly looked appealing, despite the abundance of holes, countersunk manhole covers and sudden, poorly marked road works. The twists and turns, spectacular views and abundance of destinations made Puerto Rico look like Bonneville country to this Triumph rider. I did actually spot three Vespas (Puerto Rico Vespistas I have no doubt- I am a fan of their occasional website entries) among the multitude of Chinese scooters on the roads and I have been pondering the feasibility of a road trip to Puerto Rico on my own wheels even though Harleys are for rent in San Juan. Air freight to PR anyone? Not all Puerto Rican riders looked self assured though and I always cringe when I see scooter riders in Key West pulling this stunt:
Hitting your foot on the ground as you roll along is an excellent way to walk with a limp for the rest of your life. At least he was complying with the new Puerto Rico motorcycling rules (since suspended temporarily) requiring all riders to wear protective clothing with additional dorky reflective vests at night. The Puerto Rican Legislature has now decided to hear from actual motorcycle riders about the best way to reduce roadway casualties. Education would be my bet. Driving a car was fun but riding a motorcycle... I was almost glad to get home and prep the Bonneville to resume commuting.
