Fajardo, Puerto Rico – My First Solo Trip
The first time I watched Jujutsu Kaisen was in the summer of 2023. I didn’t finish it then. Stopping at season two, episode fourteen, I didn’t even watch the full episode. Things weren’t looking good for Nanami, and I couldn’t bear to see it through.
Circle back to 2025. The first episode appeared on my feed, and on a whim, I pressed play. This time, it was the English dub. What surprised me was how much I enjoyed watching it again. So many details revealed themselves—threads I had missed before. Each character stood out more deeply. And I thought, maybe this time I will have the heart to see season two through to the end.
Going in, I already knew about Gojo—the internet made sure of that. Even with the spoilers, Toji’s actions still shocked me. Nanami remains my favorite character. Do I even need to explain why?
The episode Tomorrow had some of my favorite lines from him. He spoke about his corporate job—how it existed outside the natural rhythms of life and somehow made more money. When the baker asked, “Are you bragging?” he was not. Nanami’s honesty, his refusal to dress things up, is what I love about him.
Both seasons have pulled me back several times, each rewatch piecing together a better outline. What lingers most are Nanami’s last moments, where he imagines himself at a beach. Eyes closed, free, at peace. And yet, in that vision, one detail holds: he is still wearing shoes. Nearly every other character has been shown barefoot at some point—not him. Even in his dream of release, he never quite let himself arrive.
Nanami’s beach reminded me of another. The one he pictured looks much like one in Puerto Rico. And that was where my own blueprint for living began.
Every journey has a signpost. Before ever boarding the plane to Puerto Rico, one kept appearing to me: the compass and square. Its meaning was unclear, only that it followed me, nudging me toward something. By the time I landed in San Juan, the symbol was already woven into my imagination, waiting to meet me again on this first solo trip.
In August 2010, after a year at my first office job, I gave myself a gift: a beach vacation that felt like an adventure. Puerto Rico gave me exactly that—international in spirit, yet requiring no passport, only a short flight from home.
A shuttle carried me from San Juan to Fajardo, where I checked into the El Conquistador. On the way, the driver kindly stopped at a grocery store. Even though I was the only passenger, he waited as I wandered the aisles. Simple things came to hand: water, fruit, bread. That small ritual—seeing what is on the shelves of a local market—always roots me in a place.
At the hotel, humid air greeted me before the cool relief of the AC. The property itself felt like its own world, with a spa, tennis courts, golf, fitness center, and sweeping ocean views. A funicular glided down to the shore, where boats crossed over to Palomino Island.
Palomino was paradise: powdery white sand and crystal turquoise waves that sparkled and lapped gently at the shore. Jet skiing across the water felt fast and alive, until the afternoon dissolved into stillness—stretched out on the beach. The water was as clear as glass.
Another day brought me to Vieques by ferry. The beach there was different from the resort’s private island—less manicured, more raw, more local. A small spot nearby served burger, fries, and beer, eaten with sandy hands. There was no polish here—only presence.
And beneath all of this—the beaches, the sun, the food—something else stirred. A quiet thread weaving through the days. That compass and square kept showing itself to me again and again. At the time, I did not understand it. Research gave me answers that felt incomplete, and I had no one in my life to ask. Still, the flashes of that image stayed with me, like a secret I was not yet ready to grasp.
Later, those moments revealed themselves as a catalyst. Puerto Rico was not only the place where I learned the joy of traveling alone, it was also where I first felt the nudge to look deeper, to ask questions, to notice signs. That practice stays with me now. Sometimes I will ask the universe for guidance—something as simple as, “Show me an iridescent car if I am on the right path.” And then, in the most unexpected moments, there it is.
Looking back, this trip quietly became my compass and square—my first blueprint for both travel and life. Visit the grocery store. Soak in nature. Balance wellness and relaxation with sport and adventure. Stay open to the mystery that threads it all together.
And so After the Soak begins here in Fajardo, where everything started.
