Arrival in San Juan

Touchdown

Every airline always charges for seat selection now, so I have a tendency to refuse on principle every time and just roll the dice on whether or not I get a window seat. Usually I’m lucky enough to land a window or the aisle, but sometimes I’m stuck in the damn blasted middle seat.

This time I got the window. The island started to appear as the plane made its turn toward it, and I got to see at least the first stretch of coastline and some buildings sitting along the water. This is my first intentional solo trip — not just ending up somewhere alone, but actually choosing to be alone for the trip, mostly on purpose. I planned the week with some AI help on the itinerary and a really loose structure for what I should do, leaving myself the freedom to deviate from any of it whenever the moment called for something different.

Bebos

The Uber from the airport was my first real dive into it. The driver and I got into a full conversation in Spanish the whole way there — her rattling off recommendations, me forcing myself to keep up, respond, ask follow-up questions. This was the part I’d been most excited about. Not just visiting a Spanish-speaking place but actually using the language, having real exchanges with real people. She told me I had to go to Bebos — tienes que ir a Bebos — and also mentioned the Camerón, where she worked a second job. I never made it to the Camerón, but Bebos turned out to be the right call. It was right across the street from the hostel in Santurce, so it couldn’t have been more convenient. The food came out almost immediately, the prices were cheap, and I was honestly impressed by how fast the service was. I ate about half and got a to-go box.

That box became my first lesson in hostel living. I put it in the community fridge instead of the little one in my room, came back later, and it was gone — they clean the shared spaces aggressively. Three nights in and I learned fast: label everything, don’t trust anything communal.

The Hostel

The hostel was in Santurce, which was a perfect starting point — walkable to basically everything and right in the middle of where the actual city lives. I’d booked three nights and that turned out to be exactly right.

The bathroom was a different story. There’s a sign reminding you that the toilet paper doesn’t go in the toilet, it goes in the bin next to it. The buildings here are old and the plumbing is fragile, so the infrastructure isn’t quite up to what you’re used to back in the States. And when a bunch of people are sharing one bathroom under those conditions, that bin fills up fast. I ended up setting a bar of soap on top of it just to cut the smell. Would have killed for some air freshener. It’s one of those things you take for granted at home — the modern plumbing, all the invisible systems that keep a shared space livable. You adapt.

Planet Fitness

My back was killing me by that point. I couldn’t find a massage place open that late, so I hit a Planet Fitness instead and did some light shoulder work. The place was packed. A lot of the local community clearly takes fitness seriously, which is something I’ve noticed traveling to Latin American places in general — people here really take care of their bodies. There’s an energy to it that’s kind of infectious when you walk into a gym full of people who are genuinely putting in work.

Santurce at Night

After that I walked the neighborhood. The murals in Santurce hit different at night — art everywhere, music leaking out of doorways. I ended up at a bar and met a guy who was playing pool. He offered to show me the spots that are actually popular, the ones tourists don’t find on their own, so I bought him a few drinks and let him lead. We walked all over, bar to bar.

I spent a lot of that night just trying to be present. Not taking photos, not documenting anything, just being somewhere new and letting the city happen around me. At one point I walked into La Placita and saw the sign painted there — debí tirar más fotos, I should have taken more photos. Yeah. Probably.

First night. Messy, alive, and pretty much exactly what I needed.