On vacation I’m always torn: Run and go see everything? Or chill and do absolutely nothing? This was my first trip to Puerto Rico, and I found an ideal balance of both. My resort was just a 30-minute pre-booked ride from the San Juan airport, but what got my attention was that it had its own nature preserve. In no time, I checked in and reclined poolside, where a server slipped a freshly opened chilled coconut into my hand. Stamped into the side of it was the resort’s mantra: “Doing Nothing Means Everything.” I like their thinking.
National Tropical Rainforest
El Yunque National Forest is the only tropical rainforest in the U.S. national public lands system. At 29,000 acres, it’s one of the smaller parks, but is still more diverse because it contains dense forest covering part of the Sierra de Luquillo, a small mountain range. A guide from SALTours (Sea, Air and Land) picks me up from the resort, and in half an hour we were winding along the road through four habitats, Tabonuco Forest, Palo Colorado Forest, Sierra Palm Forest, and the uppermost Dwarf Forest, with short, low-lying trees adapted to the thin soil and cloud mists.They don’t call this a rainforest for nothing: Midway up the mountain, the heavens open and a deluge begins. Bring rain gear; even if it’s sunny 15 minutes away at the hotel, it can be cloudbursting up here. I soak my shoes as I hop out of the van to nab a shot of the 85-foot La Coca waterfall. Right down the road stands Yokahú Tower, providing a sweeping view of forest and sea, but only once the clouds part. Not 20 minutes later, the rain passes, and I’m at the visitor center learning about the flora and fauna, especially the coqui, the less-than-thimble-sized tree frog that has become a beloved symbol of the island. They can be heard singing like birds in the evenings here and at the resort. The adult male is less than an inch and a half long and it has no webbing between its fingers. If you don’t see one on a tree, you’ll definitely see them on T-shirts and in gift shops.
The forest offers hikes of varying difficulty. The trail from the visitor center is packed gravel and follows an easy turn through the rainforest, lined with wild ginger, bird of paradise flowers, and towering trees, and featuring a symphony of bird song and frog calls. Butterflies flutter into the light and disappear; tiny gecko-sized lizards scoot for cover or cling to tree trunks, watching me pass. Even under overcast skies, the Puerto Rican Emerald hummingbirds flash like gleaming gems as they flit from flower to flower even in the parking lot.
The island is home to a number of endemic bird species. Residing in the center is one of the rarest. The Puerto Rican parrot has been practically wiped out, and only a few survived in captivity while conservationists made efforts to bring them back into the wild. That work continues today. Though there’s been progress, it’s slow. Consult a local birding guide if you’re coming for the feathered friends.
Local Food
“Beer as cold as your ex-girlfr/end’s heart” the sign read. They’ve run out of i’s and swapped in a slash for it. Designed to amuse and make you stop, it worked. It’s an open-air bar along the sidewalk, and one of the patrons was inadvertently the second step of their marketing plan: She leaned over a fresh pineapple with a straw and whip cream rising out of it. This was Kiosk No. 35, El Arrecife, where each drink takes as long to prepare as you might imagine it would to carefully cut off the top and core a fresh pineapple, slice the flesh, insert toothpicks to mount those slices and some cherries around the rim, whip up a piña colada in a blender and pour it in, and then smother the whole thing with whipped cream, sprinkles, and a gummy bear. It’s delicious, and you can’t help but drink it fast. I thought they considered calling 911 when I stood stock-still with my face scrunched up from a brain freeze that lasted several minutes. Awkward, but worth it.El Arrecife is one of about 40 kiosks 10 minutes from the entrance to the National Forest. These family-run food stands, bars, and small restaurants stand shoulder to shoulder like a defensive wall in soccer. Their backs are to Luquillo Beach, a fine place for a swim or picnic. It’s also one of four Blue Flag beaches on the island, which are honored for strict environmental, educational, safety, and accessibility standards.
Steps From the Room
I took a morning stroll on the beach. The tide was out and I could walk along the sand beyond the shore-saving rocks and mermaid’s hair. A parallel trail passed through the thick foliage and the tiny lizards dashed away for cover as I passed. I arrived at Coco Beach, and for the moment, I had it all to myself. So I did as the local lizards do: perched on a rock in the sun and soaked it all in.The list of things I chose not to do is long. A dedicated tour desk could get you on a catamaran cruise to a nearby island for more snorkeling and a beach barbecue. A short drive away are zip lining, ATV or horseback riding, outlet shopping, river and waterfall swimming, and an evening kayak tour of the closest of Puerto Rico’s three magical bio bays, where bioluminescent plankton light up the water as you stir them with your paddle.
I took the hotel’s Do Nothing advice to heart the next day. The central pool of the property’s four pools is the largest lagoon-style pool in Puerto Rico and includes a swim-up bar. But I’m staying in the Villas de Reserva section with larger suites and its own dedicated pool and bar. Frozen coquitos—not the little frogs but the traditional island rum and coconut cocktail—go down easy and I’m back into that zen mode. Even better, I reserve a hammock and softly swing myself into oblivion beneath the palm trees right at the edge of the sea. Maybe I’ll take a tour of Old San Juan tomorrow. Maybe I won’t.