Color me cynical a tad, but we drove more than two hours to get there the first time, only to be turned away at the gate due to over-capacity attendance. Many were camped out by the entrances, and for no good reason (since they don't get in, statistically), but we knew better, and went on to other attractions that actually wanted us there.

More than a month later, once the peak season had died down, we came back for our overdue excursion into the mouths of caverns most majestic, only to find that their thirst for publicity had pulled an aboutface in light of the shift in seasons of tourism (not to mention rain, which became a bit of a problem, but nothing worth mentioning).

Left - The elder folk (both from our tribe and others) thought at first that this was just another wooden prop for the tourists to enjoy, based in no small part on its fake-looking exterior. It wasn't until it began to recede into its cubby-hole that we all could agree that it was real. What can I say, it had a camouflage sufficient to disguise its actuality even from tourists. Plus, I mean, really it was a land-crab in a sink-hole. How cool and unique is that?

So let's crank up the positive on this review real quick, forgetting all of the negative things for a minute, and tell you just some of the many things that make this place really exceptional. If you want to avoid the long lines and prohibitive wait times, regardless of the day of week or time of year, all you have to do is show up early. Get there by 8:00 a.m. and I don't care if it's Constitution Day, you're getting in and down into the dankest glories of the caves, and I promise you as much from the heart of my bottom.

Here are just a few of the wonderful benefits of this attraction:

But let's talk about the actual expedition. Getting there early is important, not just because of the quick-building lines (which is a very real problem, considering they limit the capacity to protect the caves), but also because once the afternoon rains start falling (which they do during roughly half the year) it quickly becomes unsafe to run the trolley into the sinkhole where the mouth of the caves is located.

So you go into a theater where you learn all about safety (in two languages) and get a quick (and conveniently air conditioned) intro to what the caves are all about, when they were discovered, and what they mean to the local culture.

From there you hop onto a trolley where a tour guide talks you down into the sinkhole, as to ease your mind as your mind eases its own elevation.

Then he (or perhaps she, I suppose) walks you quickly through the cave, presumably telling you things about its history, though I can't know for sure since I'm a member of a lollygagging gaggle, and we always dilly-dally daily and lag behind far enough to miss out on all the most important points.

Above - As the caves draw on (and the seasons change in kind) there isn't a whole lot to hang on to that isn't slimy, save for rock crabs and tank-tops of brothers.

What's most remarkable is not that they "say" they protect the wildlife habitat in the cave, but that they actually do. On the way down we saw a pretty interesting variety of birds and bugs, but once in the sinkhole we saw what must have surely been fake animals… nope, not fake at all. We saw a cave crab clinging to the rocks that was fully the size of my fist.

Down in the caves there are stalagmites, stalactites and even a freshwater waterfall, so fresh you can drink right from it, assuming you don't gag from the sight of the algae from which it falls… hang on, trying not to barf real quick… gimme a minute… nope, I'm okay… WAIT! No I'm good.

Above - As curiously (potentially) photoshopped as it may look, this is me in the belly of the sinkhole looking up from a shoulder of man or mama, as if refusing to be put back down (because I'm frankly sick of walking and the hundreds of feet of altitude change disagree with my preschool constitution).

Biggest thing is that for a half-Disney fare you get easily a half-day of enjoyment, and without lines or rampant pacing that makes it suck. Don't get me wrong, these aren't saints by a mile, but they are fair people and, for a government run attraction with painfully limited admissions, they do a pretty exceptional job of keeping it running, fun and perpetually worth recommendation.

Honestly, this is one of only two attractions in Puerto Rico that doesn't need my endorsement and still gets it. No matter what I say, good or bad, you should (and probably will) go there (assuming you are in Puerto Rico or planning to be). The attraction is unparalleled, the food is spectacular (and cheap) and the while-you-wait distractions are second-to-none.

And if you still doubt how good they are, just you try to find their website. They have one, but it's a geriatric GeoCities account that's usually down and doesn't work very well. Even with that as their best foot forward they've still got so much business they routinely turn tourists away by 10:00 in the morning.

Go early, if not often, but get there and check it out. You won't be sorry, though you may come out a bit damp and bewildered.

Above - As you can see here, one of the coolest attractions for spelunking fans-in-wait is plainly the antique Choo-Choo Train. By the way, these things cost like $200,000, even back when bread was a nickel, so give them plutocrats their due when you can, because they invested in this island so heavily, even if it was just a locomotive or two, that their recognition of things needing to be moved from one side of the island to the other was really something spectacular, even if they did lose their chubby backsides in the equation.

Above - I know I said it already, but I'm not above saying it again: I love choo-choo-trains, even if they haven't choo'd nor choo'd in fully a half century or two. Oh Thomas the Train you ruin me for any other.

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