Trip Report - Destin, Florida

 

When Brits think of Florida they think of Mickey Mouse, babes in bikinis and detectives in pastel suits with their sleeves rolled up.  However there is more to Florida than, Disneyworld, Miami Beach and the war on drugs.

 Destin may be virtually unknown on this side of the pond but it’s a popular resort for Americans from as far as the mid west keen to get some beach action.  Nestled on the north western corner of the Floridian panhandle and perched on the Gulf of Mexico its incredible beaches and emerald green water offer plenty of opportunities for water based fun. I was sceptical about the claims but in the flesh the beaches are pristine enough to rival those in the Caribbean. 

 
Its not quite Robert Duvall urging on the troops in Apocalypse Now but there is a surprising amount of aerial traffic above you as you sit on the beach draining your margarita. That is because there is a large military presence in the area as the Fort Elgin/Valparaiso airport doubles up as a military base with jets and choppers a continuous rumble in the skies.
 

 

I stayed in Sandpiper  Cove http://sandpipercove.com/  a well appointed  43 acre resort situated between Henderson State Park and the bars and restaurants of Harbour Walk. I booked with VRBO and was able to snag a studio condo for under  $100 a night inc taxes. The place is well maintained with private beach access, hot tubs, heated swimming pool, boat access, marina and a par 9 golf course.  It’s fabulous value.

 A word of warning though. In the country where car is king you will struggle if you don’t have your own transport as buses and taxis are virtually non existent.  Although comparatively near the action it was a good 40 minutes traipse to the Harbour Walk action along a pretty ugly stretch of the I98 every time we fancied a beer. Destin itself is not at all bike friendly and we had numerous reports of out-of-towners coming off worse for wear when they braved the traffic.

The HarborWalk itself is a fun experience. The boardwalk is lined with restaurants and bars like a Margaritaville http://www.margaritavilledestin.com and the huge  AJ’s http://www.ajs-destin.com/ where you can sit on the open air deck and watch the great sunsets.  On the other side are the fishing boats, charters and even a mock pirate galleon that can take you on dolphin cruises round the bay.  It gets pretty crowded in the summer but as we were they off peak there was just a steady trickle of people enjoying the atmosphere although a fair few places were closed up for the winter.

 

Another lively place is McGuire’s Irish pub http://www.mcguiresirishpub.com/ right at the harbour with its own brewery, signature cocktails (the Irish Wake does damage) and huge portions.  With over a million signed dollar bills adorning the walls if I were the owner I’d just sell up and close now. It’s a unique venue with plenty of character (albeit the bastardized American take on Irish pubs) and a jovial atmosphere.

 First  prize in the food stakes must go to Buck’s Smokehouse http://bucksbarbq.com/ bbq a blink and you miss it shack off the i98. The place serves proper southern BBQ with platters for as little as 12€. Its comparatively good value (Destin is an expensive place to eat out) and the meat literally falls off the bone.  Do not accept imitations, this has some of the best ribs and turkey I have ever tasted.
 

 For daytime fun we rented a two man kayak from Sailing South Watersports ://www.pontoonboatrental.com  for $35 and went out into the bay to see Destin from the water.  Its great exercise and good fun as you cruise past the expensive boats and there are opportunities to get out and enjoy some of the harder to reach beaches across the bay.  We paddled under the Marler Bridge to Crab Island, a spit of sand normally heaving with pontoons and revellers who have weighed anchor in he shallow waters and break out the Bud. We were the only people there but it was nice to chill out on Captain Nemo’s jetty and eat our packed lunch. 

 

Destin is a mecca for fisherman and this is evidenced but the large fish we saw hovering around the floating dock,  Their was also huge groups of harmless Moon jellyfish in the bay along with a few schools of dolphins around mid afternoon.

If you get bored of Destin there are some natural attractions within an hour's drive away (more of which in my next posts) We hired a car with Enterprise who offer a great service as they pick you up and drop you off anywhere in a 20 mile radius, and travelled an hour up to Blackwater River State Park and rented a canoe for $50 with http://www.blackwatercanoe.com/ . They dropped us off at the launch and we spent the next 4/5 hours cruising back to our car through the pristine wilderness without seeing another soul on the river. Its a pretty easy paddle through the crystal clear, ice cold Blackwater River with some lovely sand banks to stop and refuel.  Maybe we were too noisy but I expected to see a few bit more fauna seeing as we were literally in the middle of nowhere. In any event it was very calming and great for the soul.

So Destin has got great bars, great beaches, great food, natural delights and some of the friendlies people I have met.  It makes me wonder why not more people have heard of it. Disney conspiracy perhaps!

Next post: Santa Rosa and the Beaches of South Walton – Home of the Truman Show

Cycling In Granada - Nicaragua Part 2 - Bells, Butterflies & Burials

With my trip to Puerto Asese under my belt I felt confident about tackling some more of Granada's sights by bike. I got hold of a flyer from Bicimaximo about a little known Butterfly Reserve that they said would make a good little day trip.

Before heading west out of town in the direction of the cemetery I made a quick pit-stop at the crumbling Iglesia De La Merced. I asked the caretaker at reception how old the church was but he looked a little flustered as he wracked his brain for an answer.

"Don't worry amigo, this is not a test"

Turns out it was built in 1534 and has been ransacked by pirates, bombarded by armies and shaken by earthquakes. Yet here it still stands in all its faded glory. Think of La Merced as the charming old sister, wrinkled and wise, to the flirtatious Catedral showing her knickers just down the road. The interior of the church itself is fairly plain by Latin standards (although I did notice this rather unfortunate tile work on the floor)

For a measly dollar you climb up the bell tower where you can enjoy panoramic views of the city and the magnificence of Mombacho. Early morning or sunset is best time for photographers but you will be fighting for space with the tourists or in my case the bell ringer who must surely be deaf by now.

After the quick pit stop I headed west, out of town, to where the old cemetery is located. Latin cemeteries have a certain faded charm and Granada's is reportedly the oldest in Central America with a wide variety of tombs, mausoleums and large monuments. It’s well maintained with many of the tombs made from expensive marble and embellished with photos of the deceased. I thought it was rather a nice idea to have photos adorning the tombs, a visual reminder of their occupants in better times.

I did notice a few sketchy people just hanging about in some of the alcoves so I didn't linger for too long. It’s a pretty big place and you can easily become cornered in the less visited outskirts so best to keep your wits about you.

Stepping out of the cemetery entrance I took a right down Calle de las Comedias where the houses start a take a turn for the shanty. I was beginning to think this ride might not be the best idea when I stopped to ask directions for "el mariposario" from a local lady who looked at me stony-faced like I'd asked to have sex with her daughter.

With only my rudimentary map to guide me it was a case of continuing along the paved road further into the suburbs or taking a dirt road into the wilderness. I took the latter. It turns out this dirt road is the same one that goes all the way to Laguna de Apoyo and you will see real poverty on its margins, a world away from the posh restaurants in the tourist quarter.

Tin roof shacks with mud floors, no electricity and a coterie of raggedly dressed children are commonplace. A man in the street is aggressively slashing at some wood with a machete as chickens run about his feet. I give him my biggest, warmest and most respectful smile.

Despite the grinding poverty many of the kids are lovely and wave at the weird gringo passing by on his bike. A trio of little footballers decked out in fluorescent green Barcelona tops show me their skills as they practice their shooting between two decapitated tree trunks.

After about 45 minutes and a few wrong turns I finally make it to the butterfly sanctuary. It is currently run by a couple of cheery volunteers from the Midwest who are keen to know how I made it all the way out here. Their passion for nature is instantly apparent and they tell me how they quit their jobs and are trying to spread the word about this corner of the world.

They are in the process of improving the sanctuary's online presence whilst erecting a few more signs on the road to make the place easier to find offline. It might look like paradise but the couple tell me there are challenges to living in a log cabin in the middle of a Nicaraguan forest

"Every time I think I miss a home comfort I think about how cold it gets in Michigan in the winter"

The grounds are privately owned and rely on admission fees to survive. A bargain $5 gets you a personalised tour of a large netted area in front of their cabin where all the butterflies are fed, protected and encouraged to breed. The air is alive with a multitude of different species. Huge blue Morphos lazily fly about the enclosure and drunkenly sip on fermenting banana as they becoming steadily drowsier as the day progresses. There is also a 1km interpretive trail that you can wander which is pretty relaxing (you are literally in the middle of no-where). What it lacks in nature it makes up for with its tranquillity.

One my way back to Granada I am crawling along in some terrible traffic.

I really shouldn't have made my return journey during rush-hour.

(Re)Cycling in Granada, Nicaragua Part 1:Machetes, Marinas & Mountain Bikes

Nicaragua may rank as the 2nd poorest country in the Americas behind Haiti but one of the side effects of having no cash is that Nicas certainly do make best use of their resources.

This frugality permeates all aspects of life. Be that sustainable eating (outside urban centres Nicas tend to grow their own veggies/keep chickens & pigs and supermarkets stock far less imports than the UK), recycling (certain plastic and cans are worth money so they are not left lying around)or transport(ubiquitous ramshackle US school buses are imported, pimped-out and always full to the brim).

In the UK you can hardly see the stars for light population but when you fly over Nicaragua at night it looks like the place has shut for the day. Nicaragua may well take the prize for the most eco-friendly country I've ever been to.

So, with resources at a premium and cars being an expensive luxury for a lot of the locals it makes perfect sense that Nicas are bike crazy. After all cycling is cheap, quick and efficient means of getting around. The Granada streets are teeming with bikes of all shapes and sizes.

Five gear mountain bikes of indeterminate make seem to be the most popular. On my way back from the baseball I saw a man riding an a bike on a busy road in near darkness with his other half riding side saddle on the crossbar whilst holding a two year old. I wonder what Boris Johnson would make of that? Despite the apparent lack of traffic lights & road rules (no one indicates so you have to slow at junctions and watch what other people are doing) cycling in Granada is excellent way of assimilating with the locals and getting a feel of this lovely town.

In Granada there a few place on La Calzada (the main tourist drag) to hire bikes. They aren't all in great nick so it's definitely worth testing them out first before setting off. I got mine from Bicimaximo which is based in the Parque Central just to the right of the custard coloured picture book Cathedral. You can hire a decent if unspectacular 5 speed for $5 (about 5 hours), $7 the full day or $22 a week. You can hire bikes with better spec but no one rides around on these so forget it unless you plan on doing some serious offroad.

They also do guided tours of the area if you feel the need for back up as there are certain areas where it may be sensible to exercise caution. The area between the lakeside and the start of La Calzada is fine during the day but a bit sketchy at night with reports of muggings and I have read anecdotal evidence that the 2hr ride up to Laguna de Apoyo has its share of problems.

Irrespective of the potential risks I love cycling and always hire a bike on my travels so I ventured along the coast past the unspectacular "tourist area", through fields and jungle and onto the Marina Cocibloca. Its an easy 4km ride on tarmac that can be easily in an hour or so. I like to do things at my own pace so I skipped the tour. In the end it all worked out OK but not before I got a lucky break.

Cycling on my own and into an area known for robberies might not win me the Einstein Award but there can be much to be said for just travelling minimally and trying to blend in. One way to do that is not to carry a gaudy back pack around like some travelling North Face turtle. This will mark you out as a gringo with something worth stealing. Keep it light, take a few cordobas and there will always a corner store selling something to eat and drink.

 

Although there have been reports of muggings in this area the journey on the main road to the marina seems to be OK in daylight as there are now tourist police stationed at the half way point to dissuade any would be assailants (although I'm told they are less than useless if you do get into trouble). I passed locals on horse and cart transporting their wares from the fields, cattle grazing on the shoreline and farmers chopping grass with machetes. It looks pretty idyllic and a world away form the hustle and bustle of Granada.

WARNING:DO NOT take the dirt road down to Astillero Diamante (at a junction you'll see a big sign with a diamond) as I now know many people have been mugged and even had their bikes stolen on this trail. I only learned about this particular pitfall from the caretaker at Marina Cocibloca AFTER bumbling down this pretty path bordered by fields, farms and the odd shack for about 30 mins. I was on my guard but only doubled back to the main road when I saw some dubious types up ahead. That was a wise move.

"You were lucky my friend. That area is notorious"

The caretaker started to tell me a story about how growing up in "el campo" was paradise. He and his friends used to climb trees and sleep out in the countryside at night and walk wherever he wanted without any fuss. Now even the locals have to choose their routes with caution especially at night or risk bumping into an opportunistic "pandilla".

"Kids don't want to work these days. They want the easy life so they just take nice things from other people"

It was interesting to chat to the old chap as he lamented about the ills of modern day Nicaragua and the changes it was going through. In that respect Nicaragua is no different from the rest of the western world with old school values replaced by a preoccupation towards get-rich-quick materialism. I blame 50 Cent.

Part 2 - Bells, Butterflies and Burials

Baseball in Granada, Nicargaua - It's A Whole Different Ball Game

When you think sports in Latin America you think football, right? From Mexico to Argentina the average Brit has romantic images of kids playing keepy-uppy with oranges on street corners and crumbling stadia flooded with rabid fans in a riot of colour all garnished with flares and streamers.

Having travelled to a few of these countries I've seen that many of the stereotypes ring true. However, in Nicaragua football is not el deporte numero uno, it's baseball. Only a 2½hr flight from Miami it's no great surprise that this quintessentially American sport has taken root in Nicargaua.

It was first introduced in the 19th Century by American importer Albert Addlesberg and popularised by US Marines stationed in the country. Despite Nicaragua's turbulent past and impoverished present the country has a 4 team professional baseball league (La Liga Nicaragüense de Beisbol Profesional)that runs from October through February. 


It comprises of the Indios del Bóer, the Tigres del Chinandega, the Leones de León, and the Orientales/Tiburones de Granada. Most of the Nicas I spoke weren't really that interested in the national league but were pasionate about "las grandes ligas" i.e. Major League Baseball.

Nicaragua may not have exported the volume of top players to the US as Cuba or the Dominican Republic but they can be proud of the likes of Dennis Martinez who broke numerous pitching records during his 23 year playing career. Currently only Everth Cabrera (San Diego Padres), Wilton López (Colorado Rockies)and Erasmo Martinez (Seattle Mariners) currently play in the MLB.

So, when in Rome or in this case Granada I thought it only right to check out one of the games from myself. After getting confirmation of a 6pm game via their Facebook account (they don't have a website) I jumped in a shared cab (you could walk it but its wise to spend the 15 cordobas) and headed to the

Roque T. Zayala stadium or "el estadio" on the outskirts of town on the main Managua road.

The stadium is Nicaragua in microcosm: rough and ready but with tons of character. Pitching up in the dark and stumbling through the dusty car park I was a little wary of what to expect. How rowdy do baseball fans get after a few beers? A long line of people were queuing at a ticket booth for the main standing area which you could enter for about 30C$ (just over a $1). I thought I'd go for the comfort of a plastic chair and splurged 70C$ for "el palco" or the posh seats behind the batting area. There was no queue for this line. With this you get a program so I caught up on what Los Tiburones had got up to.

Walking up the gangway into the main arena it was obvious that this wasn't a must win game as the stadium was half empty and no touts had come to try and flog me tickets in the car park (I was warned this might happen) so I could sit wherever I wanted.

The teams took to the field without a huge deal of razzmatazz but after about 10 mins play was abandoned as a freak storm deluged the pitch and the fans in the cheap uncovered seats were getting well and truely drenched. Things started to get a bit heated as they were shouting for the gates that separated us to be opened so they get into our enclosure. The stewards and police seem to mull over the implications of this for a while before relenting and letting the soggy mass in. This was great as the atmosphere soon perked up.

First of all lets start with the food. None of your rubbery pies or reconstituted hotdogs here. A constant procession of food & drink vendors shout their wares at you as the cruise up and down the aisles. Quesillos (cheese filled tortillas), Vigoron (pork rinds & cabbage wrapped in banana leaf), Cerviche (raw fish marinated in lime served out of coolers), Asado (roasted meats) sweets, sandwiches, tiny bags of nuts (with a thin moustachioed guy constantly shouting Nipi,Nipi,Nipi,Nipi! on a loop) are just some of the delights you can sample from the comfort of your seat.

Whilst football in the UK has only recently moved from its white working class male roots baseball in Nicaragua is a family affair. Nicaragua in general is a very young country (the median age is 23 compared to 40 in the UK). Maybe its a remnant of Catholicism, maybe there's not much on the TV or maybe they can't afford babysitters but the stadium is full of the little critters running around and causing havoc. It makes for a pleasant atmosphere. Those who run the club even let the street kids come round with sacks to collect the discarded cans and bottles. There is nothing like poverty to encourage you to recycle.

An annoying habit that the Nicas have got from the American cousins is their obsession of sponsorship and advertising. Virtually everything is sponsored in some shape or form. At virtually every pause in the game the stadium announcer would boom out the same four adverts. One for a steak house, one for rum, one for a travel agency and one for Marfil soap which I've still got stuck in my head as I write this.

"Jabon Marfil!!!!! Lava, lava y nunca se acaba!"

It's brainwashing taken to Clockwork Orange proportions. I would have bought a box of the stuff just to shut the guy up!

As the innings moves past the half way stage the brass band starts to crank up the volume and we are treated to some booty shaking in the aisle from one die-hard as he is cheered on by the crowd. Then, apropos of nothing, the stadium announcer decides to play The Village People's YMCA during a break in the activity and the crowd all does the synchronised dance moves. This makes me very happy.

Rival fans are not segregated and a tiny group of Tigres fans sat to my left were getting progressively drunker as the game wore on. By the end they were hammered and took to questioning the sexuality of the Tiburones pitcher. At the end of the 9th with the game tied at 3-3 they were loud but they exploded into rapture when deep in the 10th with bases loaded their batter hit one over left field above the despairing gloves of the Tiburones outfielders. Game over.

Overall it’s a great night out and a unique glimpse into an aspect of Nicaraguan culture. It’s an assault on the senses and a must for baseball virgins. In Granada there is no better place to pop your cherry.

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

Trip Report : Vieques, Puerto Rico Part 1- Mozzies, Mares and Malecons

There are very few parts of the world not tainted by the avaricious tentacles of corporate America.  In the depths of the Guatemalan Highlands I distinctly remember sitting in a Burger King complete with 16th century colonial courtyard offering  majestic views of a live volcano whilst I chowed down on a Whopper.

You can buy yourself an iPhone from the Apple store in the Vientiane and rent a car with Avis in Nairobi. The battles between tradition, progress and convienence are fought the world over.

So, its refreshing to know that right in America's back yard there is a place you can go with no chain restaurants, no big hotels and no traffic lights. Your biggest worry is which beach you should visit and whether you have packed enough sunscreen. The place is Vieques and I predict it won't remain untouched for that much longer.

Part of the Spanish Virgin Islands, Vieques is a sliver of jungle covered rock 8 miles off the coast of Puerto Rico boasting wild landscapes and an attitude so laid back you will have to hold a mirror under its nose to check its still breathing. Its pristine nature is due in part to a 60 year period of enforced isolation when the island was under the control of the US military that used the east of the island for munitions testing.  

Following the tragic death of a civilian guard in 1999 at the hands of an errant bomb the islanders pushed ahead with a protractracted campaign to boot them out.  The Navy left in 2003 with its tail between its legs dragging behind it a trail of lawsuits.

From San Juan its a 30 min buzz in a twin prop (Vieques Airlink and Cape Air do returns for between $150 to $210 depending on departure airport) over lush countryside and aquamarine ocean to the island's compact airport. From here it's a choice of the island's only two towns Isabella Segunda or Esperanza.

I stayed in Esperanza as this is closer to the prettier south side beaches.  Prior to arriving I was warned that hiring a car in advance is a necessity.  This is baloney. I didn't bother with a car for the duration of my stay and got everywhere I needed to go using a combination of publico buses, walking and pedal power with no problem at all. 

In my opinion cars are needed on Vieques only by the elderly, families with young children and the lazy.  You can do without one providing you are reasonably fit and have a sense of adventure.

Esperanza itself is a strange and beguiling backwater. Historically a fishing village whose practioners can still be seen bobbing about on boats in the bay or slinging their nets off the broken down pier it now exists as a tourist gateway to the newly opened beaches and unique bio-bay. 

With its tiny strip of bars and restuarants located on the pretty ocean front malecon I would say it is the typical, tropical one horse town. Only you are likely to see more than just the one horse.  Wild Paso Fino horses run wild throughout the island (a relic of Spanish colonialism) and once in a while you will see a young local gallop up and done the high street to a clatter of hooves and dust. It is the Vieques equivalent of the boy racer and his XR3i trying to impress passersby with his alloy wheels and body kit.

I stayed at the charming Esperanza Inn looked after by genial hosts Lisa and J, transplantees from Key West, Florida who bought the place 6 years and renovated the grounds and added additional apartments to create their corner of paradise amongst the mangoes and chickens. J admits it was a bit of a struggle adapting to island ways at first where appointments with contractors weren't kept and red tape hindered progress. It seems Vieques is a place where its not what you know but who you know but slowly civilisation is creeping in.

You can snag a room for $95 or an apartment for $125. Apart from the uber-helpful hosts I particularly liked the communal kitchen where you can chat over the breakfast table or save a few bucks cooking (Vieques like the rest of Puerto Rico is expensive). Every rose has its thorn though. Vieques is very rural and I had my own personaI battles with its resident mass of hungry mosquitoes and noisy cockerels (earliest crow 2am!). DEET, frequent room checks, ear plugs and moving rooms put pay to those problems.

Fun can be had within walking distance of strip. There is some particularly enjoyable snorkelling to be had under the fishing pier where I saw a platoon of squid, huge barracuda and the largest school of fish I have ever seen (I literally could not see the ocean floor).

For those with more energy it is possible to swim out to Cayo Afuera either directly from the pier or walking out to Cayo de Tierra and swimming west with the current. Flippers are handy and watch for the motorboats. Alternatively Fun Brothers will take you out there by kayak for $35. There is some healthy coral by the boulders where you can spot rays, puffer fish and trigger fish.

If that all sounds too much like hard work you can stroll along to pretty Sun Bay balenario (public beach with facilities) a picturesque crescent of palm-backed tanned coastline with a great view of the keys .  We were there mid week and had the entire mile and a half to ourselves.

Visiting as I did at the end of hurricane season meant the pace was even more somnolent then usual. Night time options were limited. Best of the bunch was Duffy's, an open sided restuarant with a nice vibe and a varied menu where you can sit at the bar watch some sports and shoot the breeze with the predominantly American tourists. Lazy Jack's is a dive bar that had a bit of action mostly in the shape of ex-pats with faraway looks in their eyes  who perhaps have spent too much time glued to their bar stools. Worth a beer or two.

For brekky the only place serving was Belly Buttons which was nice and varied enough but I got tired of frittering away my money on tips so ended up finding a decent bakery, La Dulce Esperanza on Calle Almendro, (by the baseball field) that opens only in the morning and only when it feels like it.  It has much more of a local vibe some decent pastries (the guy behind the counter gets his share of freebies), fresh pan de agua (local sweet bread) and sandwiches for under $5.

Worth mentioning that the guidebooks are out of date regarding ATM's in Esperanza.  Before you had to travel to Isabella Segunda to get money. Now there are at least two portable machines (one in Duffy's and one in Colmado Lydia) where you can get out money for a small fee. Do make sure your card actually works though as my magnetic strip packed up and I had to budget my remaining cash and put everything else on credit.

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