Early last month, I took a trip down to Puerto Rico, the first trip there I’ve taken since I was a high school senior. Only today did I finally get around to posting photos from the trip.

This shot leads you into a garita, one of several turrets adorning Fort San Felipe del Morro in Old San Juan. Usually, you see these turrets photographed from the side, but I lead you inside it with this photo. Unfortunately, this was as far as I was willing to get; the inside of the garita absolutely reeks of stale piss and was strong enough to keep me from walking further down the gangplank.

The fort has been part of the San Juan National Historic site since its establishment in 1949, which in turn was declared a World Heritage site by the United Nations in 1983.

My flickr set of photos from Puerto Rico is available for your perusal.

As I prepared for a trip out west tomorrow, I got a reminder of my last trip today. Mom called me at the office this afternoon to tell me that my great-grandmother, whose grave illness was the catalyst for our trip down to Puerto Rico last month, passed away this morning. She made it to birthday 103 earlier this month.

I should note that I was never especially close to her in the literal sense. I’ve only seen her in person twice in my entire life, at least that I could remember. This past visit, I’m not even sure she recognized me. My last visit was 12 years prior and I had hair on top of my head, not on my face. Regardless, it is a sad day for my family.

Descanse en paz, abuela.

Yesterday at el campo, I had to pick some weird looking turd-shaped fruit off a tree. I was told the fruit was medicinal.

Until yesterday, the only medicinal fruit I knew was the one that charges me a $20 co-pay.

Days in Puerto Rico: 5.
Total travelers: 2.
Family members visited: 11 12.
Average family member age: 59.*
Casinos visited: 2.Money lost: $40.
Cocktails consumed: 1.
Casualties of the trip: 1 camera, crushed.

Developing a half-assed sexy tanline: priceless.

* Great-grandmother really upped the average there.

It only took a few days, but I just managed to get through all of my feeds on Google Reader through my iPhone. There had to be a few hundred items marked unread since Sunday night; many were skipped over in favor of items with titles alluring enough to warrant five minutes of my attention.

I’m getting through my trip relatively unscathed. Yesterday I took a long walk on the beach with mom before breakfast. In the afternoon an old family friend picked us up to go to Old San Juan. My preference would have been to go with just mom so we could take our time there and really do some exploring, but at least our guide took us to a couple of spots off the beaten path. Photos when I return.

Today I will get through another field trip, this time to what my family calls el campo (the countryside) — a little place called Aibonito. My mother’s family is from there and we are to visit my great-grandmother, age 102. She’ll be 103 on May 5.

Given that, maybe I should stop whining about entering another decade and finally admit I’m 30. I can get through that right?

To my amazement, I arrived in San Juan in one piece. My flight from DC was delayed by nearly an hour and my connection from Charlotte met a lot of turbulence in the air. Online access is sparse for me so there probably won’t be pics online until I return.

Its time for a cocktail.

As I sat in my all-staff meeting this morning, I got a rather unexpected wake-up call. My great-grandmother is still alive. Granted, she’s been in and out of the hospital as of late, but she’s still with us at the age of 102. Number 103 isn’t terribly far off.

This wake-up call came courtesy of my mother. She left me a dire-sounding message on my voicemail at work, which naturally freaked me out. When I finally was able to get back to her, it turned out she had a proposition for me: accompany her to Puerto Rico to see great-grandma¹ while we still can. Of course, I had to verify with my boss that I could take the time off – I did and I can. So it looks like I’ll be spending several days in Puerto Rico next month. And one of those days will be my second annual 29th birthday, too.

I’ve been to PR several times in my life. The most recent trip was about 12 years and 50 pounds ago. I was a senior in high school on spring break and the trip was a celebration of several birthdays in my family, including my own. I turned 18 that week and was able to (legally) visit a few nearby casinos².

That week-long trip also included a visit with great-grandma. With my poor grasp of Spanish, I couldn’t understand a lot of what was going on, so much of that visit wasn’t memorable. Specifically, I remember two things: watching “DuckTales” in Spanish³ with my cousins, and seeing the one-room house my mom and her siblings were raised in before moving to New York City. It was in massive disrepair and obviously not fit for anyone to live in anymore, but it was really something to behold.

I imagine it’s pretty much gone by now and even if it wasn’t, I doubt I’d be able to see it this visit.

¹ I was never especially close with my great-grandmother – I’ve seen her maybe all of three times in my life – so I don’t have a familial nickname for her like I did with my grandmother on my mother’s side, Mama. ↵
² I lost my shirt. ↵
³ At that point, I’d seen episodes of that show in English enough times to know what was going on. ↵