It takes us most of the day to get everyone awake, fed, showered and out of the house. By the time we lunch at Bebo's, it's after 2 PM and I'm dancing with impatience to get to the beach. Bebo's serves good cheap stodge, except since we're in Puerto Rico the stodge consists of sandwiches with names like "medianoche" and "cubano", rice, beans, mofongo and pork loins, instead of fish and chips or chicken tikka. After lunch, our patron saint Cheo drops off half a dozen bottles of red wine with us. We pack up rum, food and clothes and we're finally on our way to Dorado.
On arrival, imyril and I immediately head for the beach while the menfolk forage for dinner ingredients. I spend a happy couple of hours mucking about in the sand and taking pictures. When it begins to grow dark and the wind picks up, we return to the house to nibble on salsa made by Marco, drink beers and watch bad movies while the coquís (tiny frogs) chirrup joyfully to one another in the rain. We move on to piña coladas and mofongo (mashed fried green plaintains with porky bits in them) before settling into straight rum. We hear the New Year heralded by the sound of illegal fireworks and the thrum of gunfire from San Juan. Puerto Ricans have an unfortunate tradition of shooting bullets into the air to celebrate. The coquís sang on undeterred. We go to bed, lulled by their many voices.