Halfway Somewhere

Dear Reader,

Deciding to take a solo trip to Puerto Rico was pure impulse. I booked my Airbnb and flight within hours, planning only after. Now, looking back, I couldn’t be happier that I went for it without overthinking. I loved every moment.

It may not be the best way to make decisions, but when something feels right, and your gut says go, why not take the leap? Overthinking drains the excitement out of everything. One of the biggest reasons I booked the trip so quickly was the lack of spontaneity back home. Decisions weren’t just mine, they had to be weighed, discussed, and often reconsidered, with input from parents and even siblings. Then there were the constant safety concerns.

That night, as I planned, I thought about all the times I had wanted to do things alone or with others only to be held back by cultural and safety constraints. Now that I live on my own in a free, relatively safe country, what’s stopping me from embracing new experiences? Why hesitate when I finally have the freedom I once longed for? This trip was more than a vacation – it was a reminder of how grateful I am for the life I’ve built and the opportunities that have come my way. Life isn’t always easy. There are heartbreaks, losses, and failures that weigh on us. But then there are moments that make you pause and appreciate how incredible it is just to be alive. Life is too full of possibility to be spent in hesitation.

Days 1 & 2

In Puerto Rico, I stayed in Carolina, one of the island’s largest cities. My Airbnb overlooked Isla Verde Beach, and each morning, I woke to the rhythmic crash of waves. Stepping onto the balcony, feeling the sun’s warmth and the ocean breeze was pure bliss.

Since it was my first time in PR, I naturally did all the touristy things. I spent hours wandering Old San Juan, completely mesmerized by its charm and architecture. Taking a walking tour, I learned how the city’s design reflected its Spanish colonial past. Massive, fortified walls still surround the city, leading to El Morro, the centuries-old fortress that once defended San Juan from pirates and invaders. Some of the original city gates remain, with Puerta de San Juan standing as the most well-preserved. As someone who loves shows like Vikings and history documentaries, standing before those towering walls felt like stepping into one of those stories. I could almost hear the cry of “Open the gates!”

Once a military base, Old San Juan is now one of the dreamiest, most romantic places I’ve visited. Its colorful buildings house cozy cafés, bars, and multi-cuisine restaurants. Walking the narrow, cobblestone streets felt like living inside a classic romance novel. The city buzzes with tourists of all ages, dressed up and glowing in vacation mode, fully present in the moment.

What struck me most was the tranquility. Despite the steady flow of visitors, Old San Juan never felt loud. There’s a serenity there that will stay with me forever.

Day 3 at Laguna Grande Bioluminescent Bay

I spent most of my third day on the beach reading, reflecting, and gearing up for a nighttime kayaking tour at Laguna Grande Bioluminescent Bay. At first, I wasn’t sure about booking it. I have a serious water phobia and can’t swim. Plus, traveling solo meant I didn’t have a partner for the two-person kayak. But if there’s one thing I’m proud of on this trip, it’s not holding back, no matter how far outside my comfort zone something felt.

The drive to the bay took about an hour and a half. My tour included pick-up and drop-off, and I was the first to be picked up. As more people joined, mostly twenty-somethings, buzzing with energy – I found myself quietly hoping for someone I could connect with. Then, the last passengers boarded: a couple in their mid-60s. Finally, I thought, someone I can talk to! But they sat in the front, and we didn’t interact until we reached the bay.

Before heading out, we were told to apply bug repellent. Struggling to spray my back, I felt a gentle tap; the wife from the couple offering to help. I gladly accepted, and just like that, our conversation never stopped. She asked about my solo trip, admitting she’d never traveled alone and wondering what that felt like.

Soon, everyone was paired up, and the adventure began. And my goodness what an unforgettable night. I kayaked under a full moon and a sky scattered with stars, following narrow channels that led to the bay. Though bioluminescence is brightest on no-moon nights, our guides lined up the kayaks and covered us with hoods to block the light. The moment I dipped my paddle into the water, tiny sparkles flickered, fleeting, magical, unforgettable.

I played with the water under the hood, mesmerized. But eventually, I craved the moon again. Pulling off the cover, I just sat there, staring up, overwhelmed with gratitude.

As we made our way back, the couple sat in front of me, and the wife and I talked the entire time about our dogs, our travels, sharing photos and stories. She missed her dog, and I missed mine. Before parting ways, we exchanged numbers, hoping our paths would cross again.

This experience wasn’t just about the place – it was about the feeling it left behind. Some moments don’t just become memories. They stay with you, long after they’re over.

El Yunque rainforest

The next day, I set off for an El Yunque rainforest tour. The only tropical rainforest in the U.S. My pick-up was at 8:00 AM, and despite being out until midnight, I woke up buzzing with excitement. Only non-morning people will understand that feeling. In my daily life, dragging myself out of bed by 9:00 AM for work feels like a battle, and even then, I’m not in a good mood until later. I mean, who wakes up excited to check their Teams pings? Haha.

The drive to the rainforest was breathtaking, lush, endless greenery stretching in every direction. It made me think about how generous nature has been to PR. This island has it all: stunning beaches, vibrant city life, rolling green hills, and towering mountains.

Our group was small, including six girlfriends who seemed to be on a reunion trip. The tour lasted a few hours, winding through dense vegetation filled with bamboo and mimosa plants also known as the “touch-me-not” plant. Watching its leaves curl inward at the slightest touch was fascinating, a built-in defense against predators.

Then, our guide shared something haunting. During PR’s colonial era, enslaved people who escaped plantations often fled through the rainforest. Colonizers used the mimosa plant as a natural tracking device checking if its leaves had recently folded to determine if someone had passed through. Hearing that, it was impossible not to reflect on the paradox of humanity our intelligence, our cruelty.

As much as I enjoyed immersing myself in the vibrant experiences of Puerto Rico, I also found solace in the quiet moments, where the books I brought with me became a window into different worlds and reflections. Here’s what I was reading during my trip…

What I Read While in Puerto Rico

One of the things I love most about traveling is how it gives me time to read time to escape into another world while exploring a new one. I always choose my books carefully, knowing they’ll shape the experience. For this trip, I packed three: The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz, The Awakening by Kate Chopin, and White Nights by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Ambitious, I know—but they were all short, between 150 to 250 pages. Two were rereads, books I already knew would shift my mindset. The third, The Awakening, felt like the perfect pick for a solo journey.

The Four Agreements is filled with wisdom. Nearly every other line in my copy is highlighted. Its lessons on living a fulfilled life are simple yet so easy to forget. While I didn’t reread it in full, I skimmed my highlights, pausing at this favorite: “Taking action is being alive; it’s taking the risk to go out and express your dream.”

White Nights is one of the most romantic books I’ve ever read. Dostoyevsky isn’t known for romance, yet he captures love and longing with heartbreaking beauty. It’s one of those stories I’ll return to over and over, never quite sure I’ve fully grasped its depths. If you’ve read it, tell me your favorite passage. If not, I highly recommend it.

The book I read the most during my trip mostly while lounging on the beach was The Awakening. I couldn’t have chosen a better one. Published in 1899, it was scandalous at the time, ruining Kate Chopin’s reputation. Today, it’s recognized as a landmark in early feminist literature. It follows a married woman’s journey of self-discovery, as she realizes she isn’t defined by society’s expectations. One conversation between Mrs. Pontellier and her lover, Robert (who, by the way, is not her husband), struck me:

“You have been a very, very foolish boy, wasting your time dreaming of impossible things when you speak of Mr. Pontellier (my husband) setting me free! I am no longer one of Mr. Pontellier’s possessions to dispose of or not. I give myself where I choose. If he were to say, ‘Here, Robert, take her and be happy; she’s yours,’ I should laugh at you both.”

Imagine how threatening this must have been to a misogynistic society in the late 1800s. Even today, some still find it controversial, though we’ve come a long way. I’m grateful to authors like Chopin, who paved the way for the freedom I now have. If you read The Awakening, let me know what you think.

My Final Night in Puerto Rico

As my trip neared its end, I wanted to hold onto every last moment. My final night in Puerto Rico felt different, quieter, heavier, as if the island itself was asking me to slow down and take it all in one more time. I returned to Old San Juan that evening. How could I not? I couldn’t resist watching the sunset at El Morro, the fortress. I sat on the hillside for hours, waiting alongside hundreds of others for the sun’s grand farewell. When it finally dipped below the horizon, washing the sky in gold and crimson, it was a quiet reminder that all things must end and that’s what makes them beautiful.

After the sunset, I wandered through the romantic brick streets one last time and found myself at a cozy Argentine restaurant tucked along the road. “A table for one” is such a strange yet liberating phrase. That night, sitting at a tiny outdoor table, I felt completely at peace. It was my first time trying Argentine cuisine, and every bite felt like a small celebration. If I had to relive just one moment from this trip, it would be that dinner. Nothing extraordinary happened, yet the feeling I had in those quiet hours was rare something I’ve only experienced a handful of times in my life. The ordinary had never felt so divine.

As time passed, a gentle melancholy settled in. I thought about how everything, every moment, every feeling inevitably fades. I longed to hold onto it, to freeze time, but I also knew that its transience was part of what made it so special. I ended my night with an ice cream, sitting beside El Morro, near the vast cemetery that overlooks the ocean. I wondered if those resting there knew of the beauty surrounding them. And even if they did, what would it matter? We are meant to move, to seek, to experience.

I spent my last morning on the beach, letting the soft waves wash over my thoughts as I prepared to leave. My flight home was in the evening, but part of me stayed behind, in the sun and the sea.

Puerto Rico, you’ll always hold a special place in my heart. Thank you for giving me a first experience I’ll never forget.