“All we need, really,
is a change from
a near frigid to a
tropical attitude of mind.”
-Marjory Stoneman Douglas
I set the alarm for 9 and finally got up around 9:30. The sunburn on my legs and the soreness from walking nonstop the past few days made it difficult to walk this morning. Once up, I took a shower and proceeded to get everything packed.
I went out to breakfast a couple blocks away with Logan from New York. We both got a “mallorca” sandwich with fried egg, ham, and cheese on a sweet bread bun. On the way back, we got into a small discussion on the political morality of Foursquare.
I had been teetering between taking the plane or the publicos for a couple days. I Wanted to see Fajardo and try my hand at the Puerto Rican publico system. But as soon as I put the backpack and felt it against the sunburn, I knew I was not going to carry it around on an indefinite schedule. So I grabbed a taxi to Isla Grande airport and got the 2:30 flight to Culebra for $75.
The flight was only about a half hour, but went over the north coast, so there was plenty to see. Once it landed, there were no taxis at the airport. There was, however, a small beer stand.
Aside from the Mackinac Island Airport, which I have been to, but never flown in to, this was by far the smallest airport I have ever been to, as evidenced by a pilot sleeping under the shade of his plane’s wing. I had to option to wait for a publico or just hike it about 2 km into Dewey, the main town on Culebra. I decided to hike, but a publico came up behind me a couple minutes later and picked me up anyway.
Once nearer the center of town (I was dropped off on the wrong side). I walked around the town, stopping at the post office for some stamps for the postcards I had promised to send Sheylyn, and went to the Mamacita’s bar, where the Wanderbird captains tend to meet their passengers.
The bartender thought that the boat had already left, having done their famous round the island tour a few days before. I was really hoping this wasn’t the case, as they knew I was coming.
But a few minutes later, the first mate came in, overheard the conversation and introduced himself to me. I went with him to meet the captain as he picked him and another crew member up from the island. They made a final stop at the town’s small grocery store and we headed to the Wanderbird on a skiff.
The small amount of time that I spent on Culebra was enough to make me want to come back at some point in the future. It’s a very relaxed little place filled with Puerto Ricans, Americans and a few other nationalities, complete with a small Chinese restaurant Maybe someplace to spend a winter?