I am just back from five glorious days in Puerto Rico, the sun-drenched isle that might as well be our 51st state. 

A few details about the place in a moment, but first some observations about hitting the road. 

Sunlight depravation was getting to all of us in the Rich family. So we opted for school vacation week to flee the Boston environs where grey has seemingly been the color of the sky for weeks. And what happened back here as soon as our 747 left the tarmac? Why, only the finest streak of weather in roughly a dozen Aprils. I hope you enjoyed last week’s weather (sunny and 70’s) while it lasted. Think of it as my little going away gift to you. Such a God complex...this boy really needed some time off.

The act of “getting away” when one moves as fast as I do is often a logistical challenge. The vacation doesn’t start until we touch down, put away suitcases, don bathing suits and bake, then swim, then bake some more.

For me a vacation truly requires getting away in the purest physical sense. The idea of taking a week or two off at home where so many things opt to break or need replacing all at the same time isn’t helpful for the psyche, the wallet or any family dynamic.

Trips to new and exciting places are an integral part of my vacation experience. Of course they have to be the right kind of places. Skipping off to say Buffalo, Nome or Caribou is not necessarily what I have in mind. Not that there’s anything wrong at all with those spots. Other places do fine though, particularly ones with palm trees, pink sand, mangoes, well-stocked ice machines and quality air conditioning.

So this time around the island of Puerto Rico fit the bill and for many reasons. There’s the history and charm of Old San Juan, the beauty of the coastline and perhaps most impressive of all, the kindness of the people. I’ve been to quite a few places and have stayed at a ton of hotels. The level of courteousness and friendship in Puerto Rico from waiters, drivers, maids, hotel staff and shop owners ranks highest among all Rich family destinations.

A Rich vacation involves certain specific rituals. With a fifteen-year-old son sleeping in the same room as his parents, you can figure on what it doesn’t involve. We do retire early, end up reading, watching TV, doing crosswords---the same things we do every other night of the year at home. Only we’re doing so all in one room and all at the same time – together. That’s a nice concept actually.

Sonny Boy complains about Mom and Dad snoring; we nag Sonny Boy to drag himself out of bed early enough to enjoy the day and to brush his teeth, change his underwear, etc. Yes, those are the very things we nag him about at home. Same stuff, different environment. Funny how everything seems to be a little easier to take when you’re wearing flip-flops and it only rains for ten minutes a week.

We generally don’t do tours. Having taken all-day island tours in the past and been bored (after a while all churches, cemeteries and monuments begin to look alike) it’s our prerogative to rent a car and tour on our own. That way, if we get tired of an old museum in say fifteen minutes, we can jump back in the rental and be poolside in another fifteen minutes. Always have an escape plan on a tour I say.

Things we don’t currently do on vacation ---imbibe in anything stronger than an occasional red wine at dinner (I had two glasses the entire trip), gamble in casinos (I don’t consider my wife throwing a twenty away in a slot machine real gambling), or risking life or limb on any device that soars, spins, hovers, dives or sails. Cowardice runs in the family. It’s what keeps one healthy for next year’s vacation.

There’s an old expression that the best leg of a vacation is returning home from one. I believe the truth in that. The change of scenery, language, cuisine and weather offers a gentle shock to the system. It forces you to think about things differently for a few days or not to think about too many things at all. Seeing the Boston skyline on a flight home is always comforting and dare I say warming to the heart (of course since my return temperatures have been in the chilly fifties with rain).

In the future I’d like to try more adventuresome trips. We look forward to someday traveling to Israel and the Middle East. I still hope to see more of this country including that big old canyon out there in Arizona before my time runs out. But this time around it is tough to beat a place like Puerto Rico. 

One thing more. Nearly all of our fellow travelers on the shuttle from the airport to the hotel gasped when they observed the cost of gasoline at the local Esso station along the way. “Why, gas is only ninety-two cents down here?”  “What the heck are we doing wrong in the States, these guys have it figured out.”  “The oil crisis hasn’t hit this island, amazing!”

Silly Americanos. With a twinkle in his eye, the driver reminded us in broken English that in Puerto Rico gas is sold in liters, not gallons.  Therefore, the price for a gallon of gas in Puerto Rico is just as obscenely high as it is up here in good old New England. So much for a 100-percent fantasy island.