Travels with The Rayman

Today is the day all our friends arrive from the mainland!!  We’re meeting at the hotel in old town, where we will spend the night before our flight tomorrow to Beef Island where Tortola is located and there we will pick up Catywampus, our boat.  Oh, god, I hope I don’t get seasick.  This is an enormous worry.  Oh, well.  time will tell.  Stated another way, what am I doing here?????

I’m including this absolutely terrible picture of moi.  This is just to prove that I am actually on this trip.  And also in the picture is the old fort that was constructed starting in the late 1500’s by the Spanish to protect the island from marauders from pirates and other countries (Holland, England etc.)  They did a heck of the job because they kept Puerto Rico in spanish hands until we stole it from them fair and square in the Spanish American war.  Of course, McKinley didn’t know what to do with Puerto Rico so he decided to keep it for the U.S.  However, having been to Carcasonne in France, this place seemed absolutely modern in comparison.  See earlier posts from France last year.

So, here we are.  It is Sunday, our friends (except the captain and first mate) have arrived.  We’ve checked into a wonderfully appointed and very expensive hotel for one night and we’re waiting for happy hour at 6 p.m.  All’s well with the world.

Arrived in San Juan, Puerto Rico in a rain…yesterday.  What a long day.  Got up early at home in Cayucos.  Hit the trail at 3 p.m. heading toward LAX.  Even with the late start, we hit traffic in L.A.  What a town.  Registered and parked the car at the Hacienda and took a shuttle to the airport.  It was by now 8 ish.  Our flight was 11:55 p.m.

We had the luck of getting a gate in the worst terminal at LAX.  Two restaurants and one was a Burger King which really doesn’t fit the description of restaurant.  So we went to the restaurant, Goldsteins, or Goldfish or something like that.  It was a “fish house”.  The highlight of the trip occurred there.  Ray got carded when he ordered a Manhattan.  She must have been desperate for a tip.  Then again, my spirits sagged.  I ordered water but when we we ordered wine, she didn’t CARD me.  Suspicions confirmed.  I look like his mother.  Oh, well.

To pass the time, we lingered over halibut, sent the cold rice back and got fries instead and sat watching the man on the tarmac fuel a giant plane.  Did you know that it takes over an hour to fuel one of these babies?

He really put on quite a show.  Completely purposeful just like you like a jet fueler to be.  While fueling, these guys also have a big responsibility filling out oodles of paperwork.  Who knew.  And then there were signatures to secure, cones to move.  He did all that while the baggage guys loaded the bags, the supervisor ran around looking purposeful.  The sup had to sign the forms the fueler filled out.  Set to music, it would have been a concerto in e flat.  Anyway, I digress.

After having milked the best seat in the house to observe the aforementioned ritual, we paid the billed and looked for our gate.  No wi-fi.  Our terminal sucked.  It’s because we flew Air Tran and we figured out that was a low cost airline and the terminal was a low cost terminal.  But, alas, we boarded, took our pills and off we went on time and safely.

The only thing I remember on the flight was 1.  how uncomfortable the “business class” seat was  2.  the turbulence over the Rockies  3.  the man in front of me getting sick.  Enough said.

We arrived and headed to the Dollar Rent-a-Car counter.  In Puerto Rico, you have to wade through the insurance labyrith.  By this I mean they don’t fool around.  This involved among other things the lady behind the desk calling our insurance agent and then demanding a $500 deposit because we were insured???  Having driven one evening around San Juan, we completely understand why.  OMG.  The roads are either in need in repair or under repair.  Does the word “pothole” mean anything to you?  And then there was the fact it was raining cats and dogs and we couldn’t see anything in the side mirrors on our under-equipped Kia.  Oh, that and our GPS didn’t work and we didn’t bring the address of where we were staying with us…it was a miracle Ray found our way home.

We are staying in a condo that I found on the web, VRBO.  Vacation rentals by owner I think is the name of the website.  Anyway, it was only $190 total for two nights and much less expensive than the hotels.  I’m lucky Ray has ruled out divorce.  He was a reluctant renter to begin with but I assured him everything would be fine.  So this is how it went.

We called Jose, the condo owner from the Dollar desk and told him we were leaving the car rental place.  Perfect, he said.  Well, it would have been perfect but Glenda, the GPS unit, thought we were in Chicago and we couldn’t talk her out of it.  So, we resorted to a, horror of horrors, a map.  Well, we had a hard time and Jose called and asked where we were…like we knew?  Streets in San Juan rarely have signs so finding your way with a map is impossible.  We described where we were and he said we were near.  Finally, after circling the block looking for the place, he stepped into the road and flagged us down (it was raining and his shirt was soaked).  And Jose was not Jose.  Javier met us.  Nice guy but wanted cash to finish the deal.  We gave him cash but he had no way to give us a receipt…so he called Jose and Jose told Javier to give us our cash back.  Ray talked to Jose and we agreed that Jose would come by on Sunday and if the apartment was in good repair, we would pay an additional $40 and the deed would be done.  Perfecto.

The thing about the apartment is that it was located in a 10 story building and we were on the 8th floor with a good view of things which included the rooftops of the buildings below us.  Mold grows everywhere.  The most prevalent type of roof is a flat roof.  So we were looking down on flat roofs and were gray and white, the gray being mold.  There was also a resident chicken below along with a bunch of dogs that loved to bark.  Our apartment must have been outfitted at Ikea.  The only piece of furniture that was comfortable was the bed.  There were two overhead fans in the “great room” and an air conditioner in the bedroom that went off when it felt like it.  What a hoot.  Poor Ray stuck with me and my bright ideas.  Oh, well.  He took it in stride.

Here’s Ray on the balcony of the apartment.

Yesterday we walked all around Old San Juan (Viejo San Juan), the tourist section of town.  Outside of Old San Juan (read our neighbor where the people live), San Juan is rather poor.  Streets are narrow, rutted and many are one way which we found out as we turned up them going the wrong way on two occasions.  Things are not labeled as I reported earlier and people are not shy about shouting and honking if you’re in their way.  All in all an adventure.  I’m pretty sure the car we were driving had a sign that said “hit me” on it.  Seems we were constantly ducking and dodging other cars trying to avoid disaster ($500 was on the line)!!

It’s hot and muggy here which makes a mojito taste really, really good so I drank my share of them!!  There are lots of tapas bars which is a fine idea because when you are this hot and sweaty, who needs a big heavy meal?

A mojito kind of place with tapas.  Yummy!!

Did I mention the bidet?  The apartment had one and neither Ray nor myself had ever used one so Mr. Ray decided to give it a go.  He had water almost to the ceiling of the bathroom.  Enough said.

This is also a very bi-lingual society.  You can watch a program in english on the tellie and a commercial will burst in with espanol!!  Most people in old San Juan are bi-lingual, most outside the tourist area speak spanish.  We know this because we went to a super market to buy some food.  and that is a good segue into dinner last night.  After wandering old San Juan and visiting the fort and having a drink, we were too tired to stay for dinner.  It was only 4:30 and too early so we decided to hit the trail, go back to our apartment and eat “locally”.  Uhm.  Easier said that done.  Our life was a mess.  Glenda, the GPS, was on the fritz.  It still said we were in Chicago.  We spent 45 minutes using Starbucks wi-fi to try to figure out how to unconfuse her to no avail.  So when we returned to the apartment I changed the country from Puerto Rico to Portugal.  But, wtih Portugal came Portuguese.  EEEEEEEKKKKKKKKK.  Now I had the task of getting her back to Puerto Rico in english.  God, life is so hard with all these gadgets designed to make things easier.  Bottom line, I DID IT!!  and Glenda was now in Puerto Rico.  And english was too.  But there was one other complication.  Our apartment didn’t have wi-fi so we had to resort to our book.  We found a restaurant, entered the address into Glenda and jumped in the car.  We found a place to park but we had no change for the meter.  We drove by the address.  No restaurant.  We wandered around looking for something.  Discouragement set in.  It was time for drastic measures.  We went to the super market and bought cooked chicken, rice and beans and fresh pineapple and came back to the apartment and had dinner.  Fairly disgusting.  Oh, well.  Tomorrow is another day.

Dinner at the Ritz!!  Served on early American styrofoam.  The apartment setting was complete with laundry hanging around the kitchen.  Hey, you do what you have to do.  The clothes, by the way, took forever to dry rendering the apartment to look like a Chinese laundry almost the entire time.

We’re back.  However, we leave again tomorrow for our sailing trip around the British Virgin Islands.  So stay tuned for more fun and surprises as moi, who has never sailed, casts all fear aside and attempts to survive on a catamaran for 12 days.  This seems promising to moi.

Well, excuse me but I must close up now and go buy some bug spray, an empty squirt bottle (for keeping cool), and other sordid things before we leave tomorrow.

Just to catch you up before I go.

These pictures were taken on the new bridge at Hoover Dam.  The lower picture was taken at the same place we were standing (first picture).  Impressive sight.  Stopped by on our way home from Santa Fe.  Then we drove on to Las Vegas and spent the night Mandalay Bay.  Our breathing was a bit easier having descended from 7,000+ feet.

The only time we left the hotel was to, well, leave the hotel for home.  Funny thing happened.  Ray went to the fetch the car from the valet parking.  I stayed in the room waiting for the bellhop.  The bellhop came and he announced that he was taking a different elevator down and that I should use the guest elevators which I did.  Thing was, the lobby and the pool are located on different levels.  When I boarded the elevator, both buttons were lit so I didn’t press the button.  So, when ever one got off, the door closed and up I went again 27 floors.  So I got out and waited for another elevator.  Then when I boarded the elevator, it stopped at the lobby and a bunch of young men got on.  I asked them if they were going down.  Yes they were.  I did not explain myself.  Although one added that he was going down so that he could ride up.  I think we can all agree that we’ve done that trick before.

Well, when I emerged from the elevator and walked out to valet parking, everyone around was relieved.  Ray had them all involved in the game, “where in the world did she go?”  Applause nearly broke out.

Oh, well.  Another adventure in our lives.

Okay, as communications officer of the Catywampus I say, “more to come”!!!

p.s. The Roadkill Cafe served as a rest stop for us.  It was in Seligman, Az on our way to Las Vegas.  It had a sign on the wall instructing all who entered to leave their guns outside.  And there were stuffed animals (the real deal) hanging all over the place.  On the original route 66 by the way!!  And miles away from everything, including the freeway!!

OMG.  What a day.  Last day with cousin Susie and husband Larry.  It was non-stop action and that was a good thing.

We lollygagged around until 10:30 and then we took off for Ghost Ranch, one of the homes of Georgia O’Keefe.  We had signed up for tour of her home in Abiqiui, NM.  It exceeded our expectations.  5,000 square feet, with a bomb shelter, fabulous views and sparsely furnished.  It sat on 4+ acres and it had a full garden with every fruit tree imaginable.  Truly a special place.  But I can’t show you because they didn’t allow pictures.  What a bummer.  The house was amazing in it’s simplicity and the respect she showed the land, the views.

She had two properties.  One in Abiqiui (Abacue is how it’s pronounced) and the other at ghost ranch.  Unfortunately, we didn’t see the Ghost Ranch house but we did drive as far as allowed.  More pictures of the scenery.  No wonder she lived and worked there later in life.  She lived until age 98!!  Something about the simple life, I think.

Ray at the river,  up close and personal to the rocks, see the airplane?, cousin Susie taking a picture of the Ghost Ranch sign.

After the tour, we stopped at a little roadside deli called Bodie’s and had lunch.  See below.

Best BLT with avocado on sourdough we’ve had since Pensacola, FL at the Coffee Cup diner!!!

After returning from the Aliqiui, we lounged until our 7 p.m. dinner at a local Italian restaurant (we were tiring of SW food).  That’s where we were seated by Shirley MacClaine.  How fun was that?  Let me explain.

We sat down.  Sue’s daughter called so she left our table to talk outside.  While she was gone, I looked at the table across from us.  And there she was.  OMG.  Such a fabulous actress and interesting person.  Right there.  I pointed her out to Ray.  He was nonplused.  Susie returned to the table.  In order to be cool and inconspicuous, I became conspicuous.  I kept jestering to Sue to look that direction by cocking my head to the left.  Sue kept looking at me and later described my antics as looking as if I  was suffering from Turrets Disease.  Finally, I said “Shirley MacClaine” really, really quietly.  Then Sue took a look.  OMG.  It was Shirley MacClaine.  So, we tried to act normal.  We carried on as though she wasn’t there.  Except when I got the bright idea to take her picture, discreetly as I could.  All this transpired, and after she left, it became clear to us that Larry (the rocket scientist)  did not realize that Shirley MacClaine was at the next table.  This is after all that went down and that includes Sue, making eye contact with her and saying hello.  What a hoot.  You can’t make this stuff up!!!

So, the rest of the conversation at our table revolved around Larry not knowing that he was a stone’s throw away from Shirley MacClaine and Ray being unimpressed by her presence.  Sue and I wondered aloud where we got these guys.

All this after the waiter came over and verified her presence.  Larry was still in the dark.  Then the waiter told us that the most wonderful celebrity he had ever served was Goldie Hawn.  Seems he spent a long evening with her and her friend when they were forced to land in Santa Fe in bad weather (on their way to Colorado).   He loved the time he spent with her because, “she was so down to earth”.

So that was our day.  What a wonderful day indeed.

Yesterday, we had a reservation for a private cooking class near Taos.  Sue and I were enrolled.  Class started at 3 p.m.  Dinner was planned for 6 p.m.  The guys were to join us at 6 to eat our dinner.  We were both extremely excited about the class!!!

Well, we arrived in Taos and after lunch and browsing the local stores, we headed for the class which was actually taught in the chef’s home in Arroyo Seco, NM. on the way to the Taos ski resort.  It was (politely put), off the beaten path.  When we arrived, everyone in the car was doubting my planning skills.  They sent me to the door to find out if we were in the right place.  I knocked.  I knocked again.  I knocked a third time.  Then the door opened and I looked at the man and said, “Is that you?”  He said, “Of course it’s me.”  And we were off and running.

What a hoot.  The cook is an actor.   He has acted in many films and TV programs.  We had no idea.  Born in Egypt.  Moved here from Los Angeles.  A really nice guy and fun to be around.  We had a blast cooking green chili stew, chili rellenos, red sauce, and a zucchini dish.  See above.  Not the best picture (a bit fuzzy)…but you get the idea.  Here are some more pictures.

His name is Chris Maher.  Pictures of his indoor and under construction outdoor kitchens.  See my chili rellenos on the island?

Chris and Sue had quite a time with each other.  Eeekkk.  She had onion skins in her stew.  He explained that you can cook an onion skin for 5 hours and it will be unphased, unchanged.  She told him her onions would have chopped hours ago confessing that she used an alligator (handy kitchen tool).  He said, “whatever”.   We both giggled.

While we were chop, chop, chopping…he went outside in 40 mph gusts to barbecue the chicken.  I had a question so I went outside to ask.  He had just been hit in the head by the barbecue.  The wind blew it shut and his head got in the way.  Does the term Twitty Bird mean anything to you?

Another funny thing happened.   He used a pressure cooker to cook the beautiful pork shoulder he had furnished.  After is was cooked, he wanted us to taste it.  Sue was less than enthusiastic because the piece he offered had some fat on it (very small piece of fat).  She demurred.  He asked why.  She said she didn’t like fat.  He said something to the effect that she had to eat it and eat it now (politely and with humor).  She ate it.  Then she made a face.  You had to be there.

Chris didn’t pay a lot of attention to me.  I kept my head down and worked on my chili rellenos.  After I finished stuffing them really full and placed them opening-down on a baking sheet, he noticed some unused cheese on the counter.  “Don’t tell me you didn’t use all the cheese.”  Opps.  I screwed up.  Big bad me making a big mistake on my dish.  EEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKK.  And as we ate the dish we all understood why the additional cheese was needed as the stuffing came “rolling” out of the chili.  But in my defense, it was delicious and less fattening.

But, hey, he didn’t yell and helped clean up.  He was great!!!  His house was fabulous with big windows facing Taos ski mountain and a windows facing the west toward the mesa.

Sue was our designated driver and got us home unscathed.  And we all rushed to bed.

The guys in the great room.  Oh, and Chris’s wife, Valerie and their son came home just before dinner.  Great family.  Great time!!  And as we were leaving, he insisted that we take 2 of his salsa that he cames commercially.  Muy bueno!!

 

On Friday, we played golf on the moon.

A beautiful course near Espanola.  Ray beat me playing match play.  Drats.  The weather was beautiful and we didn’t see any snakes…so we were happy!!

Then we drove back to Santa Fe to find fresh tortillas.  Tortillarias are store fronts, privately owned, that sell fresh tortillas.  So we googled it and that lead us to The Santa Fe Tortilla Company.  It didn’t seem right as we drove south out of Santa Fe.  But hey, Glenda, our trusty GPS guide had not let us down yet.  So we trusted her and followed her to 18 Bisbee Ct.

We walked inside the door and there were only stairs.  This was strange.  But a sign in the lobby implored us to go upstairs.  So, we went.  That’s when we met Kenny.   We explained that we were looking for fresh tortillas.  He explained that he, indeed, had fresh tortillas but he couldn’t sell them to us.  He was a wholesaler.  OMG.  His 8 year old son exclaimed, “He owns this whole place”.  We introduced ourselves and then Kenny (the owner) introduced his son “my son”, his son said, “He’s not my dad”.   This caused facial alarm on Kenny as evidenced by raised eyebrows.  “I’m not your dad?  Then who am I?”.  The boy answered, while trying to screw his shoe into the carpet on the stairs, “You’re my uncle”.  So, dad decided to run this conversation to ground.  He said, “well, how can I be your uncle?  Explain that to us.”   The child, appearing  somewhat bewildered said, “My uncle died so I guess you can’t be my uncle.”    Dad said, “That’s right, your uncle did die.”

At this point, I asked him how old he was and the subject was changed.

Kenny decided that he would “give the nice people from California” some tortillas so he sent his employee out to dig up corn tortillas and he threw in some whole wheat as well.  We were overwhelmed with his generosity (30 tortillas in each pack!!) and his friendliness.  And he spoke to his employees like they were his friends.

So, as an aside, the tortillas were made the day before and they were stamped, “sell before 6/26/11”.  Now you know how old those tortillas are on the store shelves.

And now you know why I was on a quest to find fresh tortillas!!

Larry and Susie arrive about 4:30 and we spent the rest of the afternoon, relaxing, eating, laughing, talking politics, etc.  Fun, fun, fun.

Larry and cousin Susie!!