The PHurrowed Brow

This post is one in a series stretching from Dec. 3rd forward to the 24th.
If the post seems to lack context, I’d encourage you for continuity’s
sake to go back and read earlier ones in order of publication.

March 2023 brought me a tremendously welcome opportunity to escape Colorado’s cold and to gain a respite from the unpleasantness of dealing with an unhelpful restoration company in the aftermath of a broken water heater and flooded basement. The nuptial celebrations for a dear niece were set for the weekend of March 11, some three years after we’d received the original Save-the-Date notice. Yes, the spring of 2020 saw us receiving the announcement alerting us to the wedding scheduled in fall, 2021. No spoiler alert is needed to understand that COVID imposed quite the unwanted delay!

But at winter’s end in 2023, the joyous event was near! Celebrating the beautiful couple was top of mind. Right below that was the prospect of a reunion with family members I had not seen for years. Right below that was some joy that the setting of the fun was beautiful and historic San Juan, Puerto Rico, the Isle of Enchantment. Here’s a song which lovingly praises Puerto Rico to set the musical mood.

My upcoming visit to Puerto Rico offered me truly enchanting possibilities. The wedding! Time with loved ones!  Delicious food and drink! Beach time, warmth, and the crashing of waves! Exposure to a uniquely beautiful, if remote, part of the United States with its rich and distinct culture! Furthermore, a dear friend from my spoken-Latin nerd world had recently moved to San Juan, and the trip would allow me to see and converse with her. Would we catch up in English, Latīnē, or/aut/o en español? (Since retirement I had taken Spanish lessons online and also exhausted Babbel’s resources as part of preparations for such adventures.) And maybe, just maybe, I could work in some motorcycling after I’d exhausted my opportunities to spend time with lovely family and friends!

At the same time that these possibilities were wondrously intoxicating, they also seemed safe to me: by taking recommended precautions, including getting timely vaccinations, I had avoided infection with COVID-19.  This would be my first airline travel, but I had received all available boosters and was fully committed to masking while in transit. I’d never rented a motorcycle before, but I knew of plenty of people who had done so and had safe and fun excursions. With high hopes, I set about researching lodgings, sights to see, and other logistics to make for a great trip.

The promise of the wedding and family time came to delightful fruition. Natural beauty abounded. The wedding festivities could not have been more splendid, beginning with a beachside rehearsal dinner. The ceremony and reception at Casa de España, a splendid venue that Spain constructed in Old San Juan in an effort to assert its cultural connections after its colonial period ended in colonial rule by the U.S began, were equally elegant and heartwarming. In unscheduled time, my kids and I took in wonderful meals, splashed in the warm waters of the Caribbean, and visited historical sites and museums in Old San Juan.

My time with my progeny, with my niece and her husband, nephews and their partners, grand-nephews, my brother, sister-in-law, her family, and the rest was the sweetest of all elements of the trip. When we parted ways, my kids leaving for the airport early on a Monday, it was hard to let them go. I had the prospect of a few days with a motorcycle and a chance for a solo jaunt, though, as consolation. Little did I suspect that my very poor planning and several missteps would turn the jaunt into something of an adventure. If you read my next post, you’ll find candid confessions of my missteps and the unwelcome consequences thereof. I suppose it might serve as a cautionary tale. But you’ll also see more of the Isle of Enchantment and wonder at what a hasty visit by a witless tourist can tell you about the beauty you may find in the mountain rainforests and the coastal plains, even as life there can be difficult for Borinqueños (a name that Puerto Ricans proudly use for themselves today, one that dates back to the indigenous Taino people whose island the Spanish invaded).

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