A Ferry is Sometimes Just a Ferry. Sometimes.

If it seems I've been spending an inordinate amount of time on the ferry and on the big island, seeming is believing. This is all pre-get my elbow taken care of once and for all so I can get back to baking bread mechanisms. If you live on an island, well, this island anyway, you don't head down the road to get x-rays, you get on a ferry. We should definitely have an x-ray machine here. We don't.

Fajardo - that blue icon on the far right is the ferry dock

Despite the upending of one's entire day to get a necessary thing done, if you look hard to see some light, sometimes you don't have to look hard at all, it just shines on. I almost, but not quite, put the sniffer dog not peeing copiously on my bag but rather on the pillar directly across from me in that category. Frankly, I'm wondering about those dogs...

Best light shining, so far? These two girls I ran into while trying to break my no smoking vow out of sheer '3 hours into the 5 hour wait to go home' boredom. No smokes to be had at the Delicias bar (the beginning of the end, just so you know, but I've thought that a few dozen times about this place) and the other bar up the street wasn't open. So after a couple hours of congratulating myself on the universe helping me resist the urge I decided the heck with the universe, I'm going to smoke if I have to walk back to the center of town. Which I knew I wouldn't do, so it was sort of a just waste time mission. Until I ran into the girls.


Two lovely young girls were heading toward me who looked like they were from the neighborhood. I asked them if they knew of anyplace to buy cigarettes. One girl said no, the other girl said yes and then tried to give me directions in Spanish. I understand a lot more Spanish than I speak, which means not a lot, but I get by. These directions though, I knew it wasn't happening. So with thanks, I started to move along. But no. The girl trying so hard with the directions turned her friend (who turned out to be her cousin - I do understand some things) around, indicating I should go with them. They took me a good 15 minutes out of their way and day, through a secret passageway (secret to me), around a few corners and into a bodega I would have guessed was just another house. A bodega where there were cigarettes and more friendly people. Actually, I was forced to buy the cigarettes then. I mean, after all of that, there was no way I could get out of it, was there now?

We then all headed back together, they to their original destination, me to the ferry terminal. They were amazing, really nice teen age girls going way out of their way to help an older woman who spoke crap Spanish looking for cigarettes? I thanked them profusely, I offered them a cool beverage. They declined. They smiled. They made my day.

Here are a few other sights that helped me pass time. I walked through town, because I'd not been there in a long time. There are a lot more closed businesses these days. It sort of reminded me of a mini-Detroit. The one place that was thriving though, was a business school! All around were young adults, milling back and forth from the building. Bewildering but great to see.

This is not the business school.

There is something creepy and sweet about this double wheel chair.

I'm glad I had drinks at this bar before it closed. I remember a very crazy lady in there once who went from amusing to a more than a little scary. And it wasn't me.

These old buildings are going the way of time and and demand, but this one looks like its getting fresh attention. Good luck!

Want to buy a pretty building?

From 1922?

Around the plaza. Speaking of plazas...

Beautiful plazas

when are we going to get ours back? When will that horrible fence come down? I miss the compass rose in the tile. I miss the character of what it was like when I first got here. Take down the fence. Take down the potato chip useless overhead covering. Finish the building on the side (the right way this time please) and give us back our plaza.

Some objects are still shiny in Fajardo

I'll keep taking photos of this until someone a) builds a house behind it or b) tears it down. In the meantime, it seems to be a place for lost soles.

Another favorite of mine. Pre-wrought iron home.

Right across the street is this HUGE yard that looks like it should be in a way different neighborhood, but I know this neighborhood used to be very different. I wish I'd seen it back then.

There is a long stretch of property that is a jungle now, across from what looks like a well guarded company. In the overgrowth is a line of royal palms and a few other plantings that once graced a home, though I don't see the remnants of any structure. My mind gets opened about Fajardo, its geography hasn't clicked much on my radar for more than occasional shopping, passing through to go somewhere else, or on my way out of there sort of place.  There are stories here, and the more time I have here, the more curious I'm becoming. Hopefully, that will pass, like time in a waiting room.

In the meantime, who made these fences?

Then the anticipation builds. The energy level in the terminal rises as does the noise level. Will we get the fast ferry versus the hour and a half if we're lucky ferry? Yes we did, twice now. Will the sniffer dog pee on my stuff? No, just slobbered on my stuff, disgusting. Will I have as much fun running into friends for a ferry time out of time time? Usually.

The fast ferry is a joy. Less than an hour back home, smooth ride, able to be outside, comfortable seats. I sleep, I dream, I'm home. Wow! 

Have a turnover Thursday. Do something teasingly.