My skin is peeling and I have only 59,382 things to do before school starts on Wednesday. So here’s a summary of my most recent travel escapade.

Vieques (aka La Isla Nena) is one of the teeny-tiny islands off the not-so-teeny island of Puerto Rico. Home to Puerto Diablo, the southern tip of the infamous Bermuda Triangle, Vieques is home to a rapidly growing tourism industry after the US Armed Forces decided to cease using a large part of the island for bombing and munitions exercises barely two years ago.

Getting to Vieques involves either taking a local airline from San Juan International Airport (SJU) or chartering a publíco (taxi) to the ferry terminal in Fajardo, which is a 75-minute boat ride from the town of Isabel II (Isabel Segunda) on Isla de Vieques. When you get off the ferry, you are greeted with this incredible view that just beckons of things to come.

Isabel II is a sleepy seaside town built between the coast and a small hill. It is the largest town on the island and hosts Vieque’s only ice cream parlor, laundromat and ATM.

The hilltop hosts El Fuerte Conde de Mirasol [es], the last Spanish fort built in the New World and never involved in any battle
whatsoever. Fort Count Mirasol now serves as a museum for the island
of Vieques.

We took the land route and stayed at Casa Alta Vista in the southern town of Esperanza, which gets a fantastic recommendation from yours truly. The owner was nice enough to allow us onto the rooftop patio for evening card-playing and barbeques. He also introduced us to La Dulce Esperanza, a bakery a block or two away that had the most amazing ham, egg and chese sandwiches which made for several fabulous, high-calorie breakfasts.

Downtown Esperanza is fronted by El Malecón (aka “The Strip”), which begins with a colorful shaded walkway and terminates in a beachfront on the way to Sun Bay (Sombé):

Colorful flamboyán trees line the eponymous road, Calle Flamboyán, that runs through the beachfront side of Esperanza.

Wild horses litter the island of Vieques. The residents enjoy riding them down the streets and feeding them.


Wild dogs also abound. Much like the wild horses, they are unafraid of humans and are very friendly. This little guy, for example, ran up to me on the street. He’s barely a foot long. Isn’t he adorable?

Piers occasionally interrupt the shoreline and provide convenient platforms to take the most stunning photos of the turquoise waters.

Beach-hopping is practically a must on Vieques, and so is renting a 4WD vehicle to get to the best beaches. Public transport is nonexistent, except for publícos that go only to Sun Bay and no other beaches. The roads are narrow and seldomed paved with asphalt; the drivers careen around the numerous bends at breakneck speeds and the turns are not banked. There’s nothing quite like driving through a potholed dirt track after a tropical thunderstorm, spraying fresh mud everywhere, to make one feel like a manly man in an SUV commercial.

The closest beach to Esperanza that requires 4WD access is Red Beach, which is beautiful and desolate. The sand is so fine, you
could use it as an exfoliant.

To avoid tedium (as if!), I left out pictures of Green Beach, Blue Beach and Secret Beach. They all look just as gorgeous.

Green Beach has coarse sand and awesome snorkeling sights. Coral and fish abound, including tiny flying fish that move in schools that run in any direction they want, even if you are in the way. A school of 3″-long flying fish really tickles!

I also spotted a jellyfish, which quickly put an end to the Green Beach excusion.

Captain Hook greets us at Blue Beach. “Arr!” he growled as we pulled him out from his abandoned, facedown position in the sand.

Secret Beach (the next beach down from Red Beach) was the best combination of fine sand, underwater sights and beautiful scenery with mysterious mini-islands just on the horizon. The beach was incredibly shallow, and we could see loads of stuff just by wading around near the beach. Among other things, there were plenty of beautiful yellowtail, which made me extremely hungry for good sashimi.

Time to go home, and time for a parting shot of San Juan as thousands of gallons of hydrocarbon fuel burn in the Caribbean sky to bring me back to Flatland, USA.

The beautiful Caribbean sea still beckons from above, even as the plane leaves Puerto Rico.

There’s nothing like flying into the sunset to conclude a magical vacation.

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