journalist traveling the world, uncovering one hidden gem at a time

Journal: Feb. 27 – San Juan, PR

Journal: Feb. 27 – San Juan, PR

I never thought about feeling lonely as I traveled solo. But once I felt a twinge of loneliness, I was so thankful for the group of friends and strangers I could converse with at my hostel. I began to finally understand the importance of hostels while traveling solo. Today, like the day before, was another day filled with adventures embarked on with friends.

We all crammed into an Uber XL and ventured to downtown San Juan, Viejo San Juan. We stopped at the historic and monumental El Morro, a necessity for every tourist. I basked in the familiar views and this time ventured towards the cemetery, desperate to get a better look. I stood on the edge of the fort, flirting with danger, as I looked down at the tombs. The others around me took selfies and stared at the ocean, while I, morbid as it sounds, thought about the decaying bodies below.

Before I got too carried away with my thoughts, my new friends flitted off into new groups. One embarked to the streets of Viejo San Juan to get the lusted after Instagram photos, the others decided to tour the inside of the fort. Short of cash, but certainly not photos, I joined the first group on the cobblestone street.

Our posse walked past the art class that was in session near the art school and listened to the teacher rapid-fire questions at her students. We walked through various flocks of pigeons as we sought out the most colorful streets of San Juan.

My skin, very pink from the day before, made all the brightly colored walls pop even more vibrantly.


For an afternoon snack, we popped into where the Pina Colada originated, all indulging in the sugar, boozy goodness.

The rest of the afternoon was spent searching for the best souvenirs and snapping Insta after Insta.

We ended the hot afternoon on the rooftop of a bar where we enjoyed margaritas and mojitos. As everyone else ventured back to the hostel for the day, I met up with my beloved friend and confidant for one last adventure together.

One last adventure 

We returned to Isla Verde, one of my favorite beaches in San Juan, sat and talked. We talked about our hopes and dream and when we planned on seeing each other again. Even the rain couldn’t drive us to go home. We sat in the rain and kept talking, not carrying how soaked we would become.

I finally turned in at 5 a.m. just in time to get a few hours of sleep before I enjoyed my last day in Puerto Rico.



Leave a Reply