Lolling, Logistics, & a Doorbell Dinner
Morning: The Lost Art of Lolling
As I write, we’re just about to head out for dinner at El Ladrillo—more on that when we get back in a couple of hours.
Today was, quite intentionally, Lolling Day.
I woke up around 5 a.m., but without dogs to push me out of bed (Clemmie’s particular forte—I often end up perched on the edge with one foot already on the floor), I was able to roll back over and properly snuggle down. Sharon did the same in her room: no cats demanding breakfast at dawn. A small but meaningful luxury.
I worked on Day One of the blog, while Sharon—miracle of miracles—managed to sleep until 9 a.m. (unheard of!). She wandered over a bit later, refreshed and triumphant.
Coffee, Calendars, and Calm Logistics
Once we had some hot beverages in hand, Sharon had the excellent idea of actually mapping out the distances—and, critically, the parking realities—for all of our upcoming GetYourGuide events, which start tomorrow. I had already dropped all the flights and activities into TripIt, and together we edited it to include realistic travel times, parking buffers, and logistics.
We officially have something planned every day through Friday (we leave Saturday), but it now feels a bit more manageable and less manic.
Earlier, I had enlisted my bestie, ChatGPT, to suggest lunch, dinner, and coffee spots near each of our excursions. Today we actually looked them up, sanity-checked them, and plotted where to eat while we’re out and about—very satisfying.
Beach Time: Bathwater Seas & Questionable Wave Judgment
Once we got ourselves organized, we headed down to the beach.
The weather is perfect, and the water that ideal “bathwater” temperature. There was a fairly strong undertow, but it only pulled you a bit away from shore. The waves were big and broke very close to the beach—shallow shelf, then a sudden drop-off.
I briefly thought I could ride the top of one, but instead got caught in the curl and came up laughing. (So much for keeping my hair dry.)
We ordered Painkiller cocktails and chicken quesadillas right on the beach, and a “cabana man” (definitely not a boy) came over and actually dug us in an umbrella.
Ah yes—this is the life.
The Other Side of the Cove: Maria’s Long Shadow
After a few hours of decompression, surf-listening, and general bliss, we walked down from the private beach toward the side of the cove. A local guy was sitting down there quietly with a coffee. From this angle, you can really see the lingering impact of Hurricane Maria.
Maria struck Puerto Rico in September 2017 as a high-end Category 4 storm, devastating the island’s power grid, infrastructure, and coastal areas. In places like this cove, you can still see the physical scars: remnants of electrical wiring, broken fencing, damaged concrete plazas, and half-collapsed structures.
While major resorts—including the Hyatt and the neighboring Ritz-Carlton—have since been rebuilt or extensively renovated (the Ritz only reopened in 2022 after a complete reconstruction), the landscape still tells the story. Some areas were never rebuilt at all, leaving behind eerie fragments of what once was.
Iguana Interlude
After walking back along the Hyatt beach, we headed up to the room to change for dinner. That’s when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
An iguana—vividly green and orange—was posted at the base of a palm tree .
Not only that, but he appeared to be seriously contemplating jumping into the pool, just like a buddy who had done it right before him.
Island peer pressure is real, apparently.
Dinner: Ring the Bell
Tonight’s plan: El Ladrillo.
We found it on TripAdvisor, where it has almost uniformly glowing five-star reviews—pretty impressive for a roughly 20-table restaurant tucked into an out-of-the-way part of the island.
One review came with a crucial pro tip: you have to ring the doorbell. The door stays locked. The reviewer thought the restaurant was closed and was about to leave when a “local” walked up and rang the bell to be let in. (Filed firmly under Good To Know.)
The standout praise was for the sangria and the tres leches cake. Honestly, that sounded like dinner right there. 🍷🍰
Now: showers, real clothes, and a doorbell-ringing dinner adventure await.
To be continued…
Post-Dinner Update: Worth Ringing the Bell
El Ladrillo was great. And yes—we did, indeed, need to ring the doorbell to be admitted.
Inside the entryway was a huge white Christmas tree, immediately setting a festive tone. El Ladrillo is a family-run Puerto Rican restaurant with a distinctly old-school, almost clubhouse-like feel—intimate, warmly lit, and clearly beloved by people who know it well.
“El Ladrillo” means “The Brick.” The walls are brick, with huge floor to ceiling arched windows. Where there aren’t windows, the walls are completely covered, floor to ceiling, with framed artwork—different styles, sizes, and eras layered together in a way that somehow works rather than overwhelms.
Well, maybe except for the gigantic oil of the clown, that I was facing. (Sharon backed to it. Lucky girl.)
We started, as suggested on TripAdvisor, with the sangria (delicious), and then contemplated the menu. We decided to share the house salad—advertised as coming “with 50-year-old dressing” (we are choosing to believe the recipe, not the actual dressing, was that age)—and then each get a main.
That turned out to be . . . optimistic.
The Famous Salad (and Its Legendary Dressing)
The house salad was more than enough for two people. The dressing tasted like a very traditional Puerto Rican vinaigrette: a bright, garlicky (GARLICKY!) blend built around vinegar, parsley, a touch of sugar, and citrus rather than oil-heavy richness.
Mains (and Overconfidence)
Sharon ordered prawns in a chardonnay, butter, and lemon sauce. I went with a Puerto Rican chicken “stew.” About halfway through, we swapped plates.
Everything was delicious—but we simply could not finish it all. I left a good quarter of the stew behind.
Sadly, this meant no tres leches cake. A true tragedy.
Lesson learned (again): share a salad, share a main.
Bonus Adventure: Christmas Lights & GPS Shenanigans
We decided we needed to walk off dinner and wound up at a nearby park hosting a Christmas festival. From a distance, it looked like the park held a massive Christmas tree in the middle, but it was actually long strands of lights and greenery arranged into a walk-through structure, with a crèche set inside.
In driving out, a very dark grey cat crossed our path (thankfully we were going slow through the narrow streets). All the cats here are quite petite (at least, so far). This one was “chasing something”… Which we suddenly realized was a bat. It was so intent on its prey that it quite literally almost ran under our tires. Sharon couldn’t quite see him, so I just said “We gotta stop.” Ultimately, believe it or not, the cat caught that bat! (Perhaps increasing the smarts of the bat gene pool right there…Hello…fly higher, little one!)
Eventually, we left Dorado to head back to the Hyatt—but first wanted to detour to SuperMax to grab a couple of (more) things we’d forgotten. We’d passed it countless times on the way to and from the Hyatt, so we simply put the hotel into the GPS, assuming we’d pass it again.
Naturally, the GPS chose otherwise.
Upon “suddenly” reaching the Hyatt after not passing the SuperMax, we had to turn around in the (one-way) driveway of the Hyatt and head back out. Even then, the GPS continued to offer creative suggestions, but Sharon recognized the correct street and executed what could generously be described as a “slightly less legal than usual” turn.
Et voilà (or however one says that in Spanish): The SuperMax.That’s enough for now. It’s 10:00 p.m. as I write, and tomorrow we’re up early for a full day of hiking, waterfall sliding, cliff jumping, and night kayaking.
(We’ve been warned that conditions may not be ideal for bioluminescence—but even so, it should be fun.)
More tomorrow. 🌴✨