Most of the day was wasted (not spent wasted)on the Bacardi Distillery Tour excursion, which consisted of waiting around the front lawn of the Bacardi factory, sipping small, but tasty Bacardi and Fruit punch FOR AN HOUR, then piling into a golf cart-like train to ride ACROSS THE STREET to get out and do a museum-like tour of two rooms of recreated Bacardi beginnings with those hand held listening things (they fucked up and gave a Spanish-only speaking one) which took a looooong time. Then we watched a guy make a Cuba Libra and then back on the golf cart thing to drive around the parking lot and have the driver point to and tell us what the buildings were because they no longer allowed tours in the factory.
Back at the port, we only had about an hour or so before the ship left, so my parents and I walked about two blocks in Old San Juan, looked in one shop of carvings, got into an argument, and made it back to ship with twenty minutes to spare. Totally not enough time to see San Juan, the port of call I was most interested in see; mainly because of Mr. Thompson's book (and hott Boricuas in Chicago).
At least I'll see more of San Juan (hopefully) when (if) the movie finishes up: The Rum Diary (2005). Hasta luego, amigos.
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