Traveling west on the southern coast of Puerto Rico, between Ponce and Cabo Rojo, you aren't going to find a whole lot of reasons to stop. There are periodic festivals, and the town of San German has it's own quaint charm, but you may just be passing through in hopes of finding food or gas. Gas is easy enough, since the service stations down there are fair and reasonable, but let me throw in a quick vote for where you should eat.
Carlito's Bar & Kitchen doesn't look like much, sitting just off the highway a few miles west of Gúanica, but the food is fair, the prices are as good as we ever found, and the company is downright civilized.
That's not a discredit to company anywhere else, it's always civilized, but here I'm using it to mean, not so much civility, but a cerebral sophistication best associated with a civilized world.
In other words, it's nothing like back home, the people here are more educated than you'd believe, more wise than you'll immediately spot before your dinner comes, and more contented in themselves despite their political awareness, than I've found anywhere else on the island, or frankly back home either.
So let's start with the food. It's bar food. There, I said it. If you don't like French fries and grilled ham & cheese sandwiches, you've come to the wrong place. You can take your odds with other restaurants in the area if you like, but if you don't mind breaking your diet for an evening, this is the single safest place to go for the evening (with the possible exception of Gaby's World, which I also recommend very highly.)
No matter how terrible your Spanish, they'll let you order using it, but when they suspect you don't realize you're ordering octopus, they'll gladly click over into English to confirm your order. That right there is enough to save face, embarrassment and likely about five bucks off your bill.
Carlos and his wife have lived in the states long enough to know far more English than they might admit, and even though he denies it, Carlos speaks without much of a noticeable accent. He's an ex-military guy, and a former high-falooter in the textile and pharmaceutical trade. I'll chalk his denial up to modesty, but his wife's modesty is more out of embarrassment. I've studied a fair amount of Spanish, and as much as she denied it, she could fill in conversational gaps in my language far better than my ridiculous handheld translation gizmo could.
They know as much about Puerto Rico as any, and as much about the relationship with America to speak with competency on the issues, and all of that without acting superior or uppity on sensitive topics.
With all that said, let's talk about your fellow diners. Whether you're there for a meal or to kick back a few cold ones, the seemingly rural patrons of Carlito's share an uncommon amount of world experience with him. Almost everyone speaks English (at least according to my ten-plus visits) and many have lived, worked or even grew up in the States. And again, though sharp on international topics, nobody was ever rude to me.
If you do go, which you should, you should ask Carlos for his signature Puerto Rican B52. He can explain it better than I can, since I had a couple of them and my memory may be a bit fuzzy on it, but it's an exceptionally interesting taste of the local flavor, and not a traditional one, but one you can't find anywhere else.
Don't let the décor get you down, and don't think this is the best place for much other than some good food and great conversation. From everything I came to know of them, they are standup folks with uncommon honesty, integrity and family loyalty all around, and I don't mean uncommon by local standards, I just mean that compared to others in the world, these people are the tops.