An exciting fusion of Spanish, American, and Caribbean in Puerto Rico

San Juan, Puerto Rico. Visited on 28 March – 1 April 2025. Part 1.

I left Santo Domingo and flew into San Juan, Puerto Rico’s capital, on the 27th of March – never been, often heard about, yet always wondering: Is it American or not?

Puerto Rico is a US unincorporated territory. In practice, Puerto Ricans are US citizens but cannot vote in Presidential elections – ambivalent love.

Spanish dominates, though less so English. They listen and dance to Latino music from birth and later learn to appreciate American pop.

Old San Juan is the earliest European settlement in the US, dating back to the 1500s. At the waterfront, multi-story cruise ships dock side by side, each carrying thousands of passengers. Many came in from the cold into the tropics, loaded with US dollars as they were unloaded on this old town – the American accent and affluence filled the cobbled streets.

I strolled to Castillo San Felipe del Morro, built to defend against pirates and European enemies. A groundswell of lawn, called the esplanade, led to the fort. The sunlit expansive esplanade made the approach exhilarating. Below the walls, the vast azure sea spread; above, the blue sky reigned. At the top of the high walls, I gazed far out, my ears bore the full brunt of the howling wind. The fort and a few old structures were low but still stood out, their surfaces brushed clean but not repainted, leaving them looking aged but valiant. I sauntered along Parque del Morro, a promenade between the towering walls of the fort and the sea. At the fort’s feet, marauding waves charged the shore, fuming and foaming. I felt the full force, but more so its strength. A short walk away is Cristobal Fort, equally formidable.

In contrast to the forts, the streets are lined with historic houses, each painted in vibrant monochrome. Against the blue sky, when the Caribbean sun shines and lively Latino music plays, old San Juan becomes young and full of life.

San Juan is seaside. I spent the next few days outside Old San Juan, seeking out the beaches. Escombron Beach was near town. The wind was robust and persistent, pushing the white waves onshore, crashing against the walls and shore, and splashing into bursts of sea sprays. The tall coconut palms, usually so ornamental, now seemed to barely holding on to their fronds andat risk of losing their crowns. Fortunately, their slender bodies allowed the blustery wind to blow past them, avoiding their downfall.

Ocean Park Beach is a popular beach, bustling with recreational activities. People played beach tennis, some with nets, some without. Above the sea, colorful kites soared, taking the kite-surfers for a ride in the gale. Others lounged on the soft sand, soaking in the sun while others shied from it under beach umbrellas. They all dressed to please themselves, young and old, chiseled or less toned, strolling in bikinis and shorts. Their playground, a sandy beach of fine, white sand, their background, an exquisite turquoise sea.

I walked several kilometers on other beaches, including Candado Beach and Isla Verde Beach. Many beachgoers brought their own portable speakers, blasting their passionate music out fast and loud. No one asked their neighbors to lower the volume – here in Puerto Rico, happiness is to be shared. These looked like family picnics but sounded more like reveling parties.

In Puerto Rico, in San Juan, you can’t help but be happy.



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