We recently returned from a much needed two-week vacation in
Bill and I had been itching to take Dylan on his first camping trip for a while now. Back in
We planned our camping trip for the last Wednesday of our vacation. At the beginning of the week, a tropical storm was detected near the island and we began to worry we'd be stuck in Culebra under a torrential downpour for two days. However, we were too pumped up about camping to cancel the trip, so instead of taking a 45-minute ferry ride down to Culebra, we decided to camp in Fajardo, a town in the eastern corner of the island. That way, if the weather was really bad, we could always just hop in the car and drive back to
With high spirits and two carloads of supplies, we headed down to Seven Seas, Fajardo, on Wednesday morning. The day was idyllic. Not a cloud in the sky. The ocean was calm, the water crystal clear and warm. The campsite was empty except for one family of three generations of women on the site next to ours, who expressed relief at our arrival as they had been the only ones there the night before and had been so nervous about robbers that they'd slept with knives in their hands. We quickly set up camp and proceeded to spend the rest of the day frolicking on the beach and drinking Medalla beer.
Dylan took to camping as though he'd been doing it forever. He loved hanging out in the tent (and a little sun tent we'd brought for him to play in during the day), "helping" to make food on the campsite grill, and looking for iguanas and crabs on the beach. Around 9 pm, exhausted from playing in the sun all day and with a belly full of S'mores, he collapsed on the sleeping bag and didn't stir again until morning. Jadit, Arleane, Bill and I stayed up, chattering away, playing Briscas (Spanish cards) and Uno and drinking still more beers.
Occasionally, we'd look up at the sky and marvel at the millions of stars shining brightly above us. It was a clear, cloudless night, and the night seemed to stretch out forever. Suddenly, a beaming flash of light shone down upon us, making us jump about a mile. No, it wasn't a UFO, it was a disgustingly bright light post that seemed to illuminate the entire park with its million-volt beam and which the park district decided to turn on in the middle of the night for God knows what reason. Rubbing our newly-blinded eyes, we retired to our respective tents, hoping to be able to sleep despite the spotlight upon us.
That was the first indication that our idyllic camping trip would not turn out the way we thought it would...
(Continues next Sunday)