Scene from The Rum Diary, starring Johnny Depp. Far away from the SUVs and shopping malls now common on the island, this is Old San Juan, the Unesco-protected old quarter, where the roads are so narrow that anything bigger than a Chevrolet would struggle to squeeze through. Bacardi – probably straight from the distillery a short ferry ride away – was sloshed into a glass and served with fresh mint and soda water. As I sat on a stool in Bodega Chic (+1 7) on Calle Cristo, the bohemian spirit of the 1950s and 1960s fluttered around me, with framed old newspapers and yellowing bar tabs clipped to an old washing line. My bodega of choice wasn't as insalubrious as Kemp's (fictional) haunt – a makeshift bar called Al's Backyard – but it was traditional enough to quell rumblings that San Juan is turning into a bastardised version of Miami. So far, so Paul Kemp – the protagonist from Hunter S Thompson's book The Rum Diary who spends most of his time in tiny sweaty bodegas knocking back the finest fermented molasses the city has to offer. Whether it is the lazy fan circling overhead, the warm breeze primed with sea air or the background fuzz of Spanish songs on a crackly radio, it all distils into the perfect atmosphere. T here is something about Old San Juan that makes drinking rum at 11am seem a perfectly acceptable activity.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |