I've run across 74 miles of this island - which is a lot since PR measures 115x35 miles. I've run across San Juan (for hours), across farm fields (for miles) on a nature reserve (soooo many palm trees!), through isolated towns (that feel european) and suburban sprawl (that feels South African). (Which, believe me, is one of the most Californian places I've ever been - outside of Las Vegas, that is.) I've run past about 2 million cars in a place where 4 million people live (very American) and been passed by three horses on Route 2 (not very American). I've popped into CVS for Gatorade and eaten grilled mystery meat from road-side stands and been warned off drinking the water.
Everyplace - every place - accepts American Express.
America? Not America? I don't know.
Speed limits are in mph, distance in km. Temperature is in fahrenheit, wave height in meters.
Maybe I just haven't seen enough to form an opinion. Tomorrow I run inland to San Sebastian - coffee plantation territory - eager for the miles of confusion to continue and excited to find a good cup of Joe - err, "Jose?"
Somebody - help, please! ;).
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