Film Review - Django Unchained

It must be hard to be a truly great artist constantly judged against your previous masterpieces. These days when McCartney releases a new album he must know in his heart of hearts whatever he farts out will never be a patch on Rubber Soul no matter how hard he tries.

Same may be said for Tarantino who in recent years has had endure the burden of expectation with each of his subsequent releases compared to the cinematic alchemy that was Pulp Fiction. When you have been at the very top of your game like he has its a wonder he gets out of bed at all.

Whilst Django Unchained is not quite in that category,  it is a fine film and a return to form melding Tarantino's love of blaxpolitation, spaghetti westerns, martial arts sensibilities and comic book flourishes into a beguiling Southern gumbo.

Jamie Foxx plays the titular Django, a whip scarred slave who wins his freedom after entering into partnership with German bounty hunter Dr King Schultz (Christopher Waltz) who kills Django's captors as they lead him in chains through the Texan back woods.

Schultz interest in Django is initially all business as he needs him to point out a trio of wanted brothers residing at a nearby plantation. Their partnership soon develops and Schultz teaches him the art of bounty hunting.

‘You kill white folk for money. What’s not to like?’

Their relationship fosters a degree of responsibility in Schultz who feels duty bound to help Django in his mission to find his missing slave wife Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) who is currently in the hands of dastardly plantation owner Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio), a man with a fine beard and a great line in passive-aggressive gentility.

The violence then strays into cartoonish Wild Bunch territory when Tarantino mainstay Samuel L Jackson, here virtually unrecognisable as a vile old Uncle Tom cronie, uncovers the pair's ulterior motives.  With their intentions exposed Django takes on Candie's henchmen and end up redecorating the inside of his mansion in crimson.

A lot of guilty white liberals and militant blacks get touchy, perhaps justifiably, when the subject of slavery gets brought up in film. There has been criticism about Tarantino's use of the word "nigger" which is sprinkled liberally throughout the film and the fact that it is white man who ultimately has to give Django his freedom.

Critics need to be reminded that there aren't many directors who have even dared to tackle this shameful period in America's history and Tarantino's script should be taken into context, politically correctness wasn't really that well established in the 1800's.  If anything he should be applauded for shining a post modern light on America's tawdry past. Most importantly people need to remember this a movie not a documentary.

It's maybe a sign of how far the civil rights movement  has come when the slavery depicted is too shocking to countenance, like the behaviour of an alien race or beings from an alternate universe.  How did whites feel it OK to own black people and trade them like cattle? Tarantino may cover the subject of slavery in his usual stylised fashion and he does take a few artistic liberties with the facts, (mandingo fighting never really happened, slaves did ride horses and dogs were used to track not tear apart their quarry) but none of the portrayals are gratuitous and you can be sure the reality of slave life was far worse than that depicted here.

Tarantino is not a director frightened to play with convention and like all great artists has cherry picked liberally from cinematic history, in this case from Sergio Corbucci's orignal Django, the entire Sergio Leone cannon and forgotten blaxpolitation films like Mandingo and Boss Nigger. It is beautifully shot (credit to cinematographer Robert Richardson), imaginatively constructed and despite the nods to his earlier inspirations, entirely Tarantino.

The verbal sparring between the delicious Waltz (who proves beyond doubt that his star turn in Inglorious Basterds was no fluke) and DiCaprio (who has proved over the years to be a damn fine actor and much more than just a pretty face) is worth the ticket price alone. Waltz has a wonderful knack of being utterly engaging in his performances. He could read you the installation instructions on photocopier toner and still appear captivating.

It is a testament to Tarantino that the 2hrs 45 running time flies by but he really needs a strong editor to get tough with him and trim off the fat as latter films have had a whiff of over indulgence about them. A few scenes drag on, the middle is a bit flabby and Tarantino's customary cameo (and abysmal Aussie accent) would have been better left on the cutting room floor.

Tarantino has said Django isn't so much a Western as a "Southern". Whatever you label it, you can be assured of Tarantino's stylistic melange running through it like a stick of rock.  He has covered crime, noir, war, blaxploitation, heist and martial arts genres. Imagine what he could do with a straight up horror. I can just see Samuel L Jackson in a hockey mask.

The 10 Richest Songs in the World - Part 2

Continuing our countdown to the highest earning song in music I must first issue a warning to all aspiring songwriters.  Your new song may charm the birds from the trees and have women's knicker elastic pinging within the first four bars but no matter how fantastic the track you are ever going to get on this list unless you have a good lawyer. 

Take the example of everyones favourite Irish curmudgeon Van Morrison.  As a naive 21yr he flew bright eyed and bushy tailed to New York eager to please would be boss Bert Berns owner of Bang Records. Van was in a particularly accommodating mode following of the break up of his band Them and would probably have traded his first born for a recording contract. 

Without legal advice he signed away rights to songs, one of which was his signature tune Brown Eyed Girl ,which guaranteed no royalties would be payable until all recording and miscellaneous expenses attributed to Big Bang records were paid first. Through some creative accounting Van says he has never received any royalties for his most famous song which has been played over 10 million times on US radio.  No wonder he is a grumpy bastard.

OK. Back to business.

5. 'Unchained Melody', Alex North and Hy Zaret £18m

Long before the likes of Gareth Gates and Robson & Jerome made the song as musically satisfying as a glass sandwich made with dog turd mayonnaise it was the soundtrack to the long forgotten 1955 prison movie ‘Unchained’ about a prisoner yearning for freedom.

It has been recorded over 650 times in more than 100 languages but the definitive version is and will always be that performed by the Righteous Brothers.

Like many of the top ten earners it got a second wind off the back of a movie, in this case the how-to-guide-to-paranormal-pottery flick Ghost. Such was the clamour to buy the single in 1990, singer Bill Medley opted to re-record the song as he wasn't making any money from the original anymore.
 

4. 'Yesterday', Lennon & McCartney £19.5m

Despite a co writing credit this song was written and played exclusively by McCartney (the first time this had happened) and was one of the final nails in The Beatles coffin.  A melancholy folk ballad, Yesterday was a Beatles song for people who didn't really like The Beatles.  The melody famously came to Paul in a dream so fully formed he was sure it was already a recorded song.

Even Lennon in his bitterest hatred for McCartney (as evidenced in the vitriolic How Do You Sleep?) had to grudgingly admit it was a good song. Whilst the melody came out fully intact it took Paul a while to work out the lyrics. Yesterday started off like this

"Scrambled Eggs
Oh, my baby how I love your legs"

If only McCartney had the courage of his convictions as who doesn't like women's legs and scrambled eggs. He was shouted down by his bandmates and eventually firmed up the lyrics during a Portuguese recording session.

It has been covered over 2000 times by artists as diverse as Placido Domingo, Daffy Duck and Wet Wet Wet. Michael Jackson famously bought the publishing rights rights for £24m and sold them to Sony in 1995 for £59m. Perhaps you can blame Macca's songwriting skill for Jacko's riches and his inability to decide if he preferred to be Black or White.

You've Lost That Loving Feeling, Barry Mann, Cynthia Weil and Phil Spector £20.5m

According to the BMI this hold the record for having been played more times on American radio than any other song and no doubt is the reason for its lofty position in the top 10 money earners.

No wonder Brill Building husband and wife team Barry Mann & Cynthia Weil are in a cheery mood when interviewed. They recall with much hilarity Phil Spector's contribution to the track. Apart from imbuing it with his lush Wall of Sound production when the group were stuck with a line to finish off the bridge Weil tells us he came up with the classic:

"and he is gone, gone, gone, Whoa, whoa, whoa. We said Phil you can't just put whoa, whoa, whoa on a song. But it worked!"

In the UK, Cilla Black tried to get the jump on The Righteous Brothers by releasing a mediocre George Martin produced version in 1965 just before the original was released.

In response flamboyant music mogul Andrew Loog Oldham posted a full page ad in Melody Maker subtly dissing its competitor

"This advert is not for commercial gain, it is taken as something that must be said about the great new PHIL SPECTOR Record, THE RIGHTEOUS BROTHERS singing "YOU'VE LOST THAT LOVIN' FEELING". Already in the American Top Ten, this is Spector's greatest production, the last word in Tomorrow's sound Today, exposing the overall mediocrity of the Music Industry"

You could argue that Oldham was the pioneer of this type of Blur v Oasis PR hype.  Aah innocent times.

While we are are it check out Telly Savalas which I'm including for the sheer hell of it

2. 'White Christmas', Irving Berlin £24m

Proving that the maxim that it's only Jews who really know how to write a good Christmas song comes the top selling Xmas perennial of all time from the pen of Irving Berlin. Bing Crosby's version alone has sold in excess of 50 million copies and the song is the best selling single of all time according to the Guinness Book of Records.

Russian born Berlin was a prolific songwriter who wrote over 1500 songs including scores for Broadway shows and Hollywood movies.  George Gershwin called him

"The greatest songwriter that has ever lived"

He was influential in the creation of The American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers (ASCAP) the organisation that first adopted a unified system for collecting and distributing artist's royalties so we can thank him in part for the ability to create this top 10 list.

I'll be honest I hate this song mainly because I've heard it too many times and I hate Christmas.

So....all that is left is to unveil the best selling song of all time.  It has to be one by The Beatles right?  Wrong.

1. 'Happy Birthday To You', Patty Hill and Mildred J. Hill £30m

Sadly not the Stevie Wonder track aiming to make Martin Luther King's birthday a national US holiday but the ubiquitous ditty that has woven into the fabric of society and used the world over to embarrass birthday boys and girls.  Originally "written" in 1893 by two sisters in Kentucky as "Good Morning To All" as a musical greeting to their kindergarten class the kids liked it and started using it at birthday parties with substituted lyrics.

The sisters won a copyright case in the 30's and the song's ownership has subsequently passed through various faceless corporations including Warner Music Group who were earning $2m a year from public performances as of 2008.

Royalties are payable from use in film (as much as £25000 a pop), television, radio, all commercial product such as watches or birthday cards, public performances and amazingly anytime it is sang among a group where a substantial number of those in attendance are not family or friends of whoever is singing.  That sounds like one of my birthday parties.

For this reason most restaurants or other public party venues will not allow their employees to perform the song for their guests. Seriously is there no section of society that has been sullied by the greedy tentacles of some corporate asshole?  That is a rhetorical question if you were wondering.

Right, that is it. I'm off to write my own cash cow. Its called Happy Birthday to Jesus. I figure I'd kill two birds with one stone.

TV Review: The 10 Richest Songs In The World: BBC4 Part 1

The pop song: 3 minutes of disposable tuneage often farted out in half an hour on the back of a fag packet but whose legacy can transcend generations and can be the soundtrack to billions of lives.  Those lucky few who manage to harness the intangible alchemy of lyrics and music may never have to work again. I'm looking at you Reg Presley.

There are many ways a songwriter can get paid. Selling albums is the obvious one with writers getting 7 to 8p per track. For downloads margins are squeezed even more to 4p which is perhaps a sign of the times. When you think new CD albums go for around £10 and downloaded albums go for £7 on iTunes there seems to be more "skimming" going on then at a mafia owned casino.

Whilst the rise of technology and illegal downloading has hampered writers earning potential it has also opened up different revenue streams.  Ring tones, web licensing, computer games, adverts, karaoke machines and shopping centres all offer alternate earning potential for aspiring song writers proving the demise of the music industry has been exaggerated.

Presented by the laconic Mark Radcliffe The 10 Richest Songs In The World is a fascinating and well researched documentary on the business behind the music detailing which of the songs we know and love/hate have earned the most moolah. Is it a song by the Beatles, Adele, Frank Sinatra?  Sadly, Shadap You Face failed to make the cut.

So here's a round up of the 10 biggest earners in the history of music...Ba baa ba baa ba baa ba baa ba ba ba, ba ba baa ba baa baaaaaa BA!

10. 'The Christmas Song (Merry Christmas To You)', Mel Torme & Bob Wells. Earnings: £8.5m

"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire
Cash flow bigger than J.Lo's"

or so the perennial Christmas classic should go. Written in 45 minutes by Bob Wells and jazz legend Mel Torme AKA "The Velvet Fog"  (sounding more a wrestler than a crooner in that incarnation) it was an effort to take their minds of the stifling summer heat of 1944 by writing a song to conjure up images of a chilly Xmas. Or as Torme puts it.

"stay cool by thinking cool"

The song has been murdered by the likes of Michael Bolton and Barry Manilow but the incarnation that is best known is Nat King Cole's. He liked it so much he recorded it four times. Despite keeping the Torme clan financial secure for generations (his son James is interviewed and is now the living embodiment of Hugh Grant's character in About A Boy) Mel was dismissive of the track calling it

"my annuity"

9. 'Oh Pretty Woman', Roy Orbison & Bill Dees £10.5m


Certainly not a one hit wonder this is The Big O's biggest earner.

Guitar legend James Burton came up with the walking guitar riff and inspiration for the lyrics came from Roy's wife Claudette who came in to ask Roy for some shopping money. Song writing partner Bill Dees quipped "pretty woman don't need money" and the rest is history.

Whilst a fantastic song I was surprised to see this in the top 10. This is mainly due to the song's resurrection in the 1990 whore-with-a-heart- rom-com Pretty Woman starring Julia Roberts & Richard Gere. It exposed the song to a whole new generation whilst ensuring a sizable fee for the licencing rights.

Normally artists are only too keen to have their songs covered but Orbison took exception to an unauthorised rap version by horny sex pests 2 Live Crew. Sample lyric:

[Big hairy woman] You need to shave that stuff
[Big hairy woman] You know, I bet it's tough
[Big hairy woman] All that hair, it ain't legit
Cause you look like Cousin It



The case went all the way to the Supreme Court who amazingly ruled in favour of 2 Live Crew saying that the song was a parody that did not require permission and their version was protected by fair use.

8. 'Every Breath You Take', Sting £13.5m

As an anthem for stalkers everywhere Every Breath You Take has done very well for Gordon Sumner earning him a cool £2000 a day.  This one song also accounts for a quarter of all The Police's combined PRS.

Sting's bank balance was swollen even further when Puff Daddy/P Diddy sampled the track for his ode to the late Biggie Smalls I'll Be Missing You which sold over 7 million copies. Sting's lawyers played hardball with Diddy when he requested a songwriting credit for his raps. They told him to get stuffed and Sting continues to get 100% of the writers credit.

Andy Summers is interviewed in the documentary and still seems a bit pissed off that he didn't get a writing credit for the riff that he came up with that was the real hook that Diddy used on the track.  Summers seemed to infer some cloak and dagger implication about a "special agreement" in the Police with regards to royalties seeing as Sting shouldered the bulk of the writing. Whether this agreement extended to once fortnightly tantric sex sessions with Trudie Styler could not be confirmed at the time of writing.

7. 'Santa Claus Is Coming To Town', John Frederick Coots and Haven Gillespie £16.5m

Another festive money spinner trotted out on the usual yuletide collections and covered by every cheeseball under the sun (Bing Crosby, Perry Como, The Jackson 5 (my favourite version), Springsteen, Alice Cooper and Justin Bieber have all had a stab).

It's the first of the classic Xmas songs written way back in Depression era 1934 by Tin Pan Alley composer Haven Gillespie and John Frederick Coots.  It was initially thought to be a lightweight children's tune they had little hope for when they offered it to radio DJ and singer Eddie Cantor. He performed it live on his show and there were 100000 sheet music sales by the following morning.

6. 'Stand By Me', Ben E. King, Jerry Leiber, and Mike Stoller £17m

"Bum bum ba ba bum bum etc.."

And so goes one of the most memorable baselines in music. Its simplicity is its strength operating as it does standard 50's chord changes (AKA the Stand By Me progression).  Another that was knocked out in half an hour, Ben E King never had any intention of recording it but wrote it with The Drifters in mind.  They opted not to record it but King ended up taking up the song himself when he he started humming the melody at the Brill Building offices of legendary write/producer combo Mike Stoller and Jerry Leiber.

They quickly put the song together with Stoller/Leiber agreeing a generous 25/25/50% split in favour of King. Such largesse enabled nice-guy-King to start the Stand By Me Foundation, a charity which funds music college scholarships. More importantly it allowed Ben E to finally be able to afford an "N" and a "Y" for his name.

The song's position in the financial top 10 is due in part to the fact it has been covered over 400 times (although none are better than the original). It was then  resurrected in 1986 by Rob Reiner's coming of age movie classic of the same name and went to number one off the back of a Levi's advert in 1987.

King sums it up nicely

"If it wasn’t for Stand By Me I’d probably be driving a cab."

If you are quick you can catch the documentary on iPlayer for the next 2 days

Next Week the countdown continues - The Richest Songs in the World: Part 2 - #5 to #1

Vieques Puerto Rico Part 5 Bio-bay Baby!

Anyone who has read my last few blogs would have seen that Vieques has a lot to offer. World class beaches, unspoilt countryside and a quirky Caribbean backwater atmosphere.

You may say:

"So what? There are plenty of places in this part of the world with those qualities. How about Bocas del Toro in Panama, Puerto Viejo in Costa Rica or Corn Islands in Honduras?"

Fact is you would be right.  Many places in the Caribbean and Latin America have these same selling points that make this area my favourite holiday destination.

What sets Vieques apart from these other destinations is the fact that is has the brightest bio-luminescent bay in the world.

"The brightest bio-what now?"

OK, quiet down and let me explain.

The bio-bay in Vieques is located in Puerto Mosquito, a short 10 min ride from Esperanza down a truly atrocious dirt road (the tour operators don't want it paved as it puts off a lot of visitors).  It is unique as it only exists due to a special set of environmental circumstances that protect the microscopic organisms called Dinoflagellates which live in the bay and produce a psychedelic natural light show when disturbed. The sight of these tiny creatures lighting up the dark water rivals any of the oceanic CGI fireworks you might have seen in The Life of Pi.

On land most people will be familiar with fireflies or glow worms who create light purely from mixing oxygen and the chemical Luceferin (from the Latin: Lucifer or Light-Bringer) thus releasing energy in the form of green light. In the sea the effect is more widespread then people realise but usually confined to the deep sea where 80% of life use it to either navigate, lure prey or communicate in the murky depths.

Here the same phenomena reaches the surface although scientists are not exactly sure why the Dinoflagellates produce light when disturbed but suspect it to be a defence mechanism to ward off prey or perhaps even to communicate with each other.

The Dinoflagellates exist in open water in much smaller numbers but manage to survive to such a concentration because the the inlet to the bay is protected from the sea by a kink that stops the sea water flooding in or out at any great pace (It is rumoured that the Spanish at seeing the eerie light show thought the bay was the work of the devil and blocked the entrance up which huge boulders).

The bay is also surrounded by mangrove forest which provides the Dinoflagellates with the requisite nutrients (they are partial to vitamin B12) and protection. On top of all this there are no factories, industry or large towns in the vicinity that pollute the water with their run off.

All these factors combine to ensure the resident population has flourished over the years to reach the highest concentration anywhere in the world.  As a result their reactions are the brightest and most eye catching on the planet.

There are numerous companies that operate this tour which costs between 40-50$ per person and last for about 2 and a half hours. I went on a standard tour with Abes and in a clear canoe with VAC.  You are always told to go on a moonless night so the luminescence is not lessened by light pollution but there are always normally two tours, the earlier of which will go out before the moon has had a chance to rise.

Your party will have a bumpy shuttle to the bay in a van where you will pile out and be issued with a life jacket and and  paddle.  You are advised not to wear any mosquito spray containing DEET as this kills the Dinoflagellates and as you are likely to be wearing shorts you will be keen not to hang around in the forest. The canoes are two man affairs and although you don't have to be super fit to take this tour I think a certain degree of physicality is needed as you will be paddling for best part of an hour and a half.

I would recommend both tour companies as they are quite similar with information on the surrounding mangrove swamp, history of the bay and the science behind the light show.  I got a bit more science from Abe's guys whose tours had a more relaxed pace and more jokes and astronomy from the VAC team. The extra 10$ for the clear glass canoes really isn't worth it IMHO as the brightest effects will come from splashing your paddles or seeing fish darting through the water leaving behind luminous trails.

Seeing the luminous outline of a huge ray darting in front of our canoe into the inky blackness was a truly heart pounding and awe inspiring moment.  On a clear night where above you is a galaxy of stars and below you an ever changing glow of Dinoflagellates it feels like you are suspended in space.  Take a moment to lay back, look up and feel the comfort of insignificance.

Just before I left , Puerto Rico held a referendum to establish if they wanted to be the 51st state of the union. The population voted overwhelmingly in favour. Further integration into the US would certainly erode some of Puerto Rico's unique cultural heritage e.g. English would have to be taught in schools instead of Spanish.

With some larger scale construction currently taking place on the malecon in Esperanza I feel Vieques is on the cusp of change.  The very qualities that bring tourists to Vieques are extremely fragile commodities that can easily be lost by the understandable desire to modernise and make money.  In that sense the threats to the Bio-bay and the Puerto Rican character are intertwined.

Often change isn't always for the better.

Vieques Puerto Rico - Part 4: Beaches of Babylon

The combination of white sand and turquoise water has long been the travel agent's favoured remedy for sun starved urbanites jonesing for a break from grey concrete and greyer skies.  The suggestion is that once your toes touch the sand you will completely forget your boss is an asshole and your spouse is cheating on you. Providing you aren't on holiday with either you can guarantee the beaches of Vieques quell the urge to go on a killing spree in the office/family home (for a few months at least).

With that in mind, coming to Vieques without visiting the wildlife refuge beaches is like going to Oktoberfest and have a mineral water with your salad.  These are the jewels in the Vieques crown and are not to be missed.  When the Viequenses kicked the Navy out in 2003 they not only waved off their supposed oppressors but achieved the added bonus of suddenly having access to miles of pristine coastline that was previously out of bounds to the general public. 

Seventy years of Navy control has meant no hotels, restaurants, vendors and all the other man made crap built in the name of convenience that clutters up most of world's natural beauty.  What we have left is a smorgasbord of postcard pretty beaches you can now explore at your leisure.

Despite their undeniable beauty there is a darker side to the Navy's occupation.  The EPA has confirmed there are still residual traces of ambient pollution in the form of mercury, lead, uranium and napalm from all the munitions testing that has taken place over the years. It's not enough to cause you to grow an extra head but probably not going to increase your life expectancy. 

In fact the Puerto Rican Health Department has deemed this pollution to be the cause for a 27% increase in cancer rates on the island compared to the mainland.  Lawyers have been rubbing their hands with glee at this news and have served legal proceedings faster than Usain Bolt ordering some McNuggets.

Nowadays, it is hard to believe the Navy were the polluting ogres they are claimed to be. I cycled all over the preserve and there is hardly any visible evidence the Navy were ever even there.  The U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service now manage the site which is the largest national refuge in the Caribbean.

Appearances can be deceiving though. Critics have argued that much of the inaccessible eastern area have been converted to refuge status purely as a ploy to keep humans out and avoid the expensive large scale clean up required or remove all unexploded ordinance and toxic chemicals from the island.  Until they teach the manatee to sweep for bombs and drink the chemicals they will remain out of sight and out of mind in the dense foliage and Caribbean waters.

Whilst the damage to humans is still a matter of conjecture I have to say, outside of the sea, I noticed a distinct lack of nature within the preserve.  Very few birds, lizards or other mammals are visible in an area which has had little or no human habitation gives me cause for concern.  This may have to do with pollution or possibly be caused by the numerous mongoose you will see flitting in and out of bushes.  They seem to be the island's success story and no doubt have played a part in reducing the number of birds.

One thing I want to clear up is the out of date info on the Internet about roads being so treacherous you need a Hummer to navigate them.  This may have been the case a few years ago but is not so now.  From Esperanza its a smooth, pleasant 7 mile cycle to Blue Beach via the PR997 on a mixture of asphalt and hard grit roads and the bonus is there are no large hills. In fact the road is completely paved all the way to Red Beach. You could roller skate there! (if you were mental).  If you want to investigate Orchid Beach and Secret Beach you could easily park up and walk as these roads are still a bit "rustic" but not as bad as I was expecting.

The first main beach of note past the Old Camp Garcia gates is Playa Caracas or Red Beach (the old Navy names seem to be on their way out now). I was there on a Tuesday (it might have been a holiday)and the car park was bumper to bumper with SUV's. Caracas is a broad bay of light sand with calm turquoise water which is perfect for families.  A group of youngsters were getting their drink on and were using their van as a makehift sound system with reggaeton up to 11 .  It's not a beach to come if you want solitude as it is likely to be full of sociable Puerto Ricans.

Of course us Europeans are more introspective and seek out the furthest most untouched beaches to fulfil some sort of Robinson Crusoe fantasy.  Don't worry, a bit further along there is something for the castaways amongst you .  Heading out from Caracas the road stops being tarmac and goes into a dusty hard grit bordered by thick forests of sea grape and sand spurs.

Its about 3 miles to Blue Beach (Playa Chiva) which is not just one beach but a large stretch of coastline (over a mile at least) with multiple access points (I counted at least 12 numbered entrances) each with their own little lane or car park area. You can dip down into one of the lanes emerge onto the beach and see if that stretch takes your fancy (or is secluded enough for you). If not just carry on down the road.

I choose a spot just left of Cayo Chiva, a rocky pancake of an island within swimming distance, and comandeer a nice little beach amongst the rocks with some shade and some prime snorkeling.  I had planned on swimming out to the island only to be put off by the conspicuous notices warning that I might be blown up by unexploded ordinance.  Chatting to the locals I was told that people have been swimming here for years but because of the rise of recent litigation warning notices have been plastered all over the area just in case any one was stupid enough to want to take home a souvenir.

Banned from swimming out I console myself with some excellent snorkeling from the shore.  I spot some fearsome barracuda (they look mean but won't hurt you unless provoked) peering at the abundant schools of fish in a healthy looking coral system.  There are tons of spiny sea urchins in this area so swim shoes are advised.

Just as I am about to head back in I see one of the most beautiful sights a snorkeller could wish for.  A huge green sea turtle about the size of an SUV hubcap floats by in front of my eyes and gracefully flaps away like a lazy bird flying through treacle. I follow at a respectful distance as it munches away on the plentful sea grass and occasionally it comes to the surface to open its beak and gulp down some sea air.

I shout over to a couple I met from St Thomas whose wife has been looking for a turtle all holiday and she comes bounding out into the sea. It is only then I realised turtles can really motor when they feel disturbed as at top speed we are unable to keep up with it any further.

If you want even more isolation you can head a mile or so over to Playa Escondida (Secret Beach) at a clearly sign posted fork in the road.  If driving, a SUV is essential as the access road to this beach is steep and rocky with barely enough room for two cars.  This narrow beach really is tucked away behind verdant hills and almost hidden from view. There were remenants of makeshift chairs and tables in the surrounding vegetation. I can only imagine what a cool party you could throw on this beach if you could be bothered to lug all the gear here with you.

The last accesible beach in this area is Playa La Plata (Orchid Beach). The terrain changes once again on the way here as huge Mesquite cacti loom out of the bush. This really is not a good time to get a puncture as you are miles from "civilisation", the mobile signal is non existant and the thorns of these bad boys go through car tyres like a knife through butter. 

I pay careful attention to the road and suddenly emerge through the sea grape onto a rustic swathe of open white sand facing the broad bay of Ensenada Honda. There are a few intrepid visitors on this beach (maybe the "end of the line" kudos as attracted the castaways) and an enterprising couple have made a fort out of palm tree fronds and bamboo poles to protect themselves from the tropical sun.

After a few minutes relaxing on this beach you may well consider moving in with them and giving your boss the middle finger.  There is no better life then that of a castaway.

In the new year: The absolute last blog on Vieques : Bio-Bay Baby!

Trip Report: Vieques Puerto Rico Part 3 - Piers, Bunkers and Isabel Segunda

After yesterday's adventures I felt confident enough to tackle a long ride today. They don't come much longer or hotter then cycling from Esperanza via Isabel Segunda to Playa Arenas on the North-western tip. You need to take plenty of water and fill up when you can because its definitely thirsty work.

From Esperanza the easiest way to the North coast (if not necessarily the quickest) is to head up PR201 over the spine of the island past the turn off for the Wildlife Refuge beaches. The road is perfect with forest on either side and respectful motorists even though I saw only one either cyclist the entire day. Its only 5 miles to Isabel II but you do have to negotiate a reasonably large hill. The freewheel down kind of makes up for it though (I'm lying).

Compared to soporific Esperanza, Isabel II is a bustling metropolis with that typical faded Latin port charm that you find in the Caribbean. It has a lot more locals here so you do get more of a Boricueño experience. There are banks, hardware stores and estate agents but its not a particularly pretty town as all the original Spanish architecture has no doubt been wiped out by the regular hurricanes that lash the coast.

I grab some provisions from a colmado and head to the only historical structure of note, Fortin Conde de Mirasol, situated on a bluff overlooking the town. It a nice enough fort with some cannons, a museum and impressive views of the town but compared with the grand offerings in Old San Juan its like watching your local park football team after seeing a Barcelona master class at the Nou Camp.

From Isabel II its 10 miles west to Laguna Arenas and the first leg out of town isn't the most picturesque. People wonder why I bang on about cycling but there are a disproportionate amount of cars for such a lightly populated island and most of them congregate on this stretch. Luckily, you only have to put up with exhaust fumes for the first 4 miles of the PR200 because as soon as you get past the airport the traffic melts away and you are left with some wonderful countryside with a 28 Days Later vibe.

Just past the airport is the island's famous 300 yr old Ceiba tree. The Ceiba tree is respected in this part of the world and rumoured to have mystical powers and connections to the underworld. It just looks like a big thorny tree to me. There is a little beach here where I hang out with a Puerto Rican family doing what they do best; chilling on the beach. They pull their van into the shade of some palm trees, crank up the salsa music and get the barbeque going. Bliss.

A bit further along, Mosquito Pier is something of a curate's egg. A mile long stretch of concrete sea wall built in the 1940's it was initially planned to stretch all the way to the mainland and would have housed a huge naval base to rival Pearl Harbour. However, the project was abandoned early in its construction after the US realised it was unnecessary and risky have all their naval eggs in one basket.

Despite being over 70 years old it looks like there is some newer construction in the distance so I cycle to the end only to be stopped by a chain link fence protecting a run down guard house and little else. A forlorn security guard plods about and is only too happy to have someone to talk to when I make eye contact.

He tells me that six years ago the end of the pier was refurbished and there were grand plans to turn the structure into a cruise ship port. Unfortunately the project has been mired in red tape and "politica" and the poor guy had been made to stand there, like a character in a Franz Kafka novel, mindlessly protecting a few planks of wood for no discernable reason. To combat the boredom he has taken to livening up his empty days by creating little stone sculptures on the surrounding rocks. I humour him by taking some photos whilst simultaneously feeling his ennui.

Carrying on a few miles down the road there isn't a soul to be seen. The countryside opens up and the horses wander about freely oblivious to my presence. There is a derelict creeper covered church silently rotting by the side of the road. For me this part of the island is the biggest draw as aside from the strip of grey asphalt snaking its way through the foliage you get a sense that the island has looked much this way for thousands of years.

Another reason to come this far out is to have a snoop round the military bunkers the Navy used to store ammo. These Cold War remnants are not that well sign posted so you have take a left about 4 miles past Mosquito Pier to discover these bizarre concrete relics cut into the earth and camouflaged from the sky by the constant threat of impending jungle.

You could hold one amazing Tomb Raider themed game of paintball in this area with its maze of paths, abandoned structures and verdant slopes. If you look carefully there is still some faded military paraphernalia lying around indicating this was a hive of activity at one point. Now the area is merely a curio, an anachronism, a fragment of a bygone era.

From here its a comparatively short hop to Green Beach and its excellent snorkelling but it was getting late and I had more pressing concerns, namely, cycling the 15 miles back to Esperanza. I was beginning to think that 4x4 wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Next Week: Part 4 -The Wildlife Refuge Beaches.

Vieques Puerto Rico Part 2 - Bikes, Beaches and Blow Outs

So, are you nice and settled in your accommodation of choice? You have scoped out the local bars and taken a quick dip in the sea to wash off some of that airplane fug? Surely no one comes all the way to Vieques just to mooch about a tiny fishing village right? Damn straight, they come to explore.

And here starts the eternal debate in Tripadvisor and Lonely Planet forums about how best to navigate a country with no discernible public transport system . Puerto Rico in general has very poor public transport following as it does the US model where the car is king. Unlike the rest of Latin America which has a fantastic bus and coach network servicing pretty much all the big cities and rural back waters if you don't have a car you are basically seen as a wierdo or a bum and are left to the whims of others.

Vieques is no different from the rest of Puerto Rico in so much as there is no proper bus service but an ad-hoc system of private publico mini-buses that circumnavigate the island and drive along popular highways hoping to pick up a fare. You can't be in a hurry as there are no timetables and no guarantee when and if a van will show up. As it happens when we got off the plane there was a chap sitting there waiting to take our 15$ p/p fare to Esperanza, which is just as well as I made the controversial decision not to hire a car.

Understandably many visitors insist that the only way to get around the island is by rental car booked as far in advance as planning will allow (apparently there is a "shortage" of rentals) in order to guarantee your freedom. Whilst it is undoubtedly more convenient and a must for the elderly or families with kids I felt cycling would give me a better feel of the island ultimately and be less hassle. It was the best decision I made.

I hired a bike from rambunctious outdoorsman Garry from Vieques Adventure Company . He has no premises so like many things on Vieques everything has to be done over the phone. The 3 day rental was $75, non negotiable, but decent value as you are supplied with a good quality Trek mountain bike with disc brakes, helmet, rucksack, pump and a couple of inner tubes (you will need them). After I handed my money over and told him about my plans he gave me this pearl of wisdom

"Speed up when you see dogs, they aren't too friendly round these parts"

First day I thought I'd take it easy and check out a number of the nearer beaches on the south side. First up is Playa Media Luna a very easy 3 mile ride past the palms of Sun Bay on a dirt road and into the bush. It is a secluded, calm crescent shaped beach which is good for kids as the water remains shallow for a distance. Scenes from classic film Lord of The Flies were filmed here but despite its history it is a little tame for my tastes.

If you continue another mile or so along the bumpy road you will get to Playa Navio which is a fun little beach with aqua marine water a few more waves. Contrary to popular internet opinion the waves weren't really good enough for body surfing (lugging the body board there was a waste of time) and the Sunday afternoon game of beach volleyball failed to materialise. One of the nicer beaches none the less.

To complete my south side sweep I headed West from Esperanza along the PR997 and PR201 which are decent tarmac road (funding from Washington in full effect) and with less traffic as it heads away from the "action". Down this way I experienced the dog problem Garry warned me about. There is nothing that gets you pumping the pedals quicker than a mangy mutt snarling at your heels. Perhaps Lance Armstrong should have tried that trick instead of juicing on steroids.

Things get interesting the further down this road you go. There are funky little shacks with people wiling away the afternoon on their porches. In places bizarre pick up truck sized boulders litter the verdant landscape and the countryside takes on the air of the Wild West. About 5 miles down this road you get to Playa Grande, a truly untamed beach which feels like it could be off the set of Jurassic Park. There are imposing views of Mount Pirata and the untouched palm lined coast. Not a soul or a man made structure to bet seen for as far as the eye can see.

On the way back to Esperanza about 3 miles on the right is the turn off for Playa Negra. You can have your own little Indiana Jones adventure as the beach is accessed through a jungle path down a semi dry river bed. I wheeled my bike through the foliage and over tree trunks to get to this seldom visited beach and to be honest it was a little underwhelming. I have seen better black sand beaches as the volcanic sand seemed to have be diluted lessening its dramatic effect.

On my way back the detour was made worthwhile by a herd of wild horses which appeared out the jungle and blocked my way out. I don't know who was more surprised, them or me. After a brief stand off they slinked past eyeing me with suspicion to a drinking hole created amongst the bows of some old logs.

Feeling pleased with myself as I traipsed back along the riverbed I heard the noise that every cyclist dreads.

"Hisssssssssssssssssssssss"

At this point I kind of was hoping it for a Fer-de-Lance or Black Mamba wrapped around my to my leg, anything would be better than a puncture. As I wheeled my way back up the path and onto the road I tried to pump the tyre back up hoping it was a slow one that I could fix in the relative comfort of the Inn. No such luck. As I turned a corner the tyre blow out and I nearly went headlong into the ditch. I was a good 90min walk from Esperanza it was getting dark and I would have to negotiate those dogs on foot unless I did a roadside repair.

After a few aborted fittings where my mind entertained thoughts of falling foul of machete wielding Puerto Rican gangbangers (Eh Gringo! you are a long way from home my frieeeend!) I got the tube changed and cycled back joyfully, my body coursing with endorphins of relief. Those dogs would have to find dinner elsewhere tonight.

Next Week: Part 3 Piers, Bunkers and Isabel II