Puerto Rico had already delivered on so many fronts — from the empanadas to the pinchos and the cobblestone streets of Old San Juan. I, however, had yet to secure a piña colada. According to many signs, they originated here. It was a must-have before leaving.
On our last day, we decided to pull out the paper map we'd picked up somewhere along the way. It was going to be a beach day, and we wanted something a little off the beaten path. After careful study, a moon-shaped beach, Mar Chiquita, caught our eye. It was on the opposite side of the island and would require an hour's drive. We wound along the stunning coastline for part of the journey and through the countryside, where beautiful orange-blossom trees dotted the landscape. They're called Flamboyán, or Flame tree — what a cool name!
We stopped at a local market and picked up snorkeling masks. When we pulled up to the beach, the gravel parking lot was mostly empty with a few vendors just starting to set up. We gathered our snorkeling gear and towels and set off for the beach. When we broke through the row of trees, I stopped — the view was absolutely stunning. I couldn't help but stare and gasp at the beauty: the blue-turquoise water, the circular stretch of sand dotted with palm trees, and the rocky outcroppings that broke the waves. It was one of the most unique beaches I had ever seen.
We found a shady spot under one of the palms and soaked in the view until the heat got the better of us and a swim became necessary. The entry was less than graceful as I fumbled my way over the rocks in the shallow water. My efforts were rewarded, though — colorful fish filled my line of sight. The water was calm, and I swam along, following fish through the shallow rocks. I became immersed in an underwater world and lost all track of time. Eventually, exhaustion won out and I made my way back to shore to relax in the shade.
What goes with sand, sun, and shade? You guessed it — a piña colada. I made my way across the sand (sandals would have been a solid choice, but I just made a run for it — it felt like hot coals under my feet). I made it to the shade in front of several vendors. No one was selling piña coladas, but I did find pinchos and cold Modelos. Cheers.
Making my way back across the sand was precarious, but I made it. We enjoyed our pinchos and Modelos in the shade, joined by a friendly lizard angling for a bite. After letting our food settle and fitting in another swim, it was time for another round. This time, I brought sandals.
A gentleman in a beat-up pickup with coconuts piled in the back greeted me. It looked like I would get my piña colada after all. He skillfully and quickly cracked open a coconut, poured in what must have been half a bottle of rum, and added pineapple juice from a recycled milk jug. The perfect Puerto Rican piña colada. I was ecstatic — the quintessential piña colada. The perfect ending to a relaxing beach day.
