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I don't remember why we carried a tent to Puerto Rico - we certainly didn't need it to sleep on the beach.

Puerto Rico, 1969

Dougburnett
2003-11-22 10:32:56

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I don't remember why we carried a tent to Puerto Rico - we certainly didn't need it to sleep on the beach. I'm also not sure why we chose to set it up on Condado Beach, in the main tourist areas in San Juan - put it down to youth and inexperience.

But I do remember exactly what I did when I saw a dark figure leaning over the entrance of the tent in the middle of the night: I jumped out and grabbed him. I'm usually rather cautious but our packs were out there and I was worried about loosing them. I also woke up Jon, my traveling companion, and we held the guy until our heads cleared.

The guy was painfully thin and at least a head shorter than Jon and I - more that that I couldn't see. I don't know who was more surprised: all three of us stood there shaking. He kept repeating, "Me sleep here, me sleep here." I was still concerned about my possessions and insisted he empty his pocket. When it was clear that he hadn't taken anything, we let him go.

He scurried off to the other end of the beach where there was a lone street light. Jon and I tried to calm down and make sense of what had just happened. We could see him talking to someone under the light, probably doing the same. By now it was clear he was just curious about the tent and I was beginning to feel embarrassed - a feeling I have to this day. We must have scared the shit out of the poor guy. Next day we decided beach camping just wasn't going to work.

We had come on a whim: a Puerto Rican friend was heading home for the holidays and offered us a place to stay. When his father saw our patch jeans, long hair and scruffy beards the offer was rescinded.

So we pooled our meager resources and found a cheap hotel in Old San Juan. The place had long hallways and small rooms. There was a shared kitchen filled with large-eyed cats that disappeared whenever we got to close, ...