Puerto Rico: Day 4, Playa la Playuela, Faro de Los Morrillos
In general, we have observed a very nice, clean, healthy Puerto Rican culture. Compared to other meso-Americana countries, the littering is less pervasive, the smoking is less than any East Coast town, anywhere. Beaches are pleasantly picked up after and fitness/bicycling is everywhere. I even had an old man tell me in broken English that the unrefined dark sucré is better for you than that from the Dominican Republic. There is one thing, however, I now call baked cerveza eau de urine, there is a certain smell which is always present in the central Americas, it's a mix of salty asphalt, stale beer and discarded liquor bottles all baked by the hot, hot, hot sun. And yes, it is present here, too.
Much to our wondrous enjoyment, we discovered Playa la Playuela. While locals enjoy this beach, it is a bit of drive to reach. So not overly crowded. The far end of this sugary sand, crescent beach is made of California dreams. It is a hump from the car park and our choice to go to the farthest end resulted in my caloric-justification for an extra sangria at dinner, The mild cove with lighthouse backdrop and indigenous iguanas makes for sun-soaked happiness. This area is perfect for the newbie snorkelers in the family, who need to practice in salt water without crashing waves. Note: it is a very salty water and visibility a bit cloudy, at least when we were here.
We choose to practice snorkel and spend the rest of the morning at this lighthouse cove instead of skipping along to La Parguera. However, we failed at lunch support and much to our secluded enjoyment of the area, there are no ice-cream carts or pollo vendors. So, mid-afternoon, and mild sunburns later (I like to think of as vitamin D enhancement), we packed out and carried on. No real food vendors exist between the Faros and "Lil Mexico" (aka La Parguera) so we pulled into our destination a la diem, hungry and coated in a proper oceanic glaze.
La Parguera is the least inviting town since our adventure started. It is as close to Mexicana as this island can seem to get. Hot, breezeless, cheap vendors, flies, loud music, and random (sketchy) boat buskers. Thankfully, the chicle children were not begging on the corners and the fish house we dined at was good, friendly and clean. It's just not an environment I enjoy. We booked our bioluminescent boat trip for another day and headed home.