suburbia, georgia

Since the age of 13, I was trying to con my mom into letting me flee Georgia and move to New York City. I was convinced if i could just get there I could catch my big break, go to four dance classes a day, and live the life of my dreams. Much to my dismay, my mother did not uproot my whole family of 5 to pursue my dreams like those E! True Hollywood Stories and didn't cash out her savings account to let me do it on my own. It didn't stop me, though. I worked so hard to get out of that mundane place - suburbia - where the tree-lined streets lead to strip mall after strip mall. I danced 6-7 days a week and babysat every Saturday night. After a whole school year earning $10/hour I would earn enough to go to NYC for four weeks during the summers after my sophomore and junior year. I took extra classes in high school and was ready to graduate a year early, but my parents, who love me very much, still insisted I suck up another year of normal life and go to a high school football game or two and prom. They just sucked didn't they? Well as cheesy as it sounds, it was that extra year at home that gave me the life experiences that shaped me into who I am today - my first professional gig in downtown Atlanta (yes, you're looking at the dance captain of The Wiz), my first real boyfriend, friends that are still near and dear to me over a decade later, and my acceptance letter into NYU, which was my permanent ticket out of there. 

Though life in the concrete jungle is indeed full of magic and glitter, it does start to wear on you after a while. I haven't spent many holidays away from my family and that usually includes a pilgrimage back to Georgia. For those few days I soak up the quality time with my favorites and then after about five days or so I'm itching to get back to my independent fancy life in NYC. The last few years, my friends who have moved into the city of ATL always have a fun restaurant or new bar to bring us to, and I get to see (and enjoy) a different side of the south. 

This summer, I went for a long weekend on my own dime just because. Not for Thanksgiving or a wedding or a graduation or that my parents were guilting me into it, but because I wanted to. I wanted a few days waking up in the smell of my childhood home, to have things like getting food or running an errand not be so hard cause you can just hop in the car and ride with music on and your hand sticking out the window. Those boring things of summer - like going to the pool everyday - were what I wanted. Because it just isn't so easy to have a big ole pool to yourself during the New York City heatwave. 

Thus, I brought my man home and we enjoyed all those boring suburban things. And loved it. We slept in, ate all the food, took over the pool, went downtown with my friends, roadtripped with the fam, and may have even hit up a late night skate night. I felt more rested and rejuvenated returning to NYC than if I took a hundred hour nap. I feel a sense of that type of deep rest whenever my family is near, but the combo of family and home really nails it. In a culture and generation that praises independence, it feels good to be dependent for a few days. 

(My proud New York City native boyfriend looks to have adapted to suburbia just fine, right?) 

Time really does change perspective. I'm not saying I want to move back to suburbia or anything... but maybe it's not so bad after all. 

You want to grow up so quickly, but once you start truly adulting, you don't mind slowing down. 

notes:

- most photos taken by Ray :)

- we discovered adult skate night here 

- checked out the new roof at Ponce City Market

- drank craft beers here & several rounds of tiki bar drinks here (also love a fancy night cap here) 

- took a day trip to Blue Ridge and stopped at Mercier Orchards along the way for apple cider slushies and fried pies (when in the south...)

misadventures in mountain biking

After putting a good 26 or so miles in two days on our legs, we thought it was best to give ourselves a day of rest back in Park City.  We had big plans to climb Mount Timpanogos and with 14+ miles round trip and a nice 4300+ feet of elevation gain, we knew that our bodies needed a break before tackling it.  After some careful consideration, we thought what better way to recuperate out and about town than to try out a new to us activity - mountain biking.  (I’ll let you all have a good laugh at our expense now).

Mountain biking is something that has always placed just a smidgen of terror in the depths of my heart.  I consider myself a fairly competent cyclist but the problem is I tend to have terrible reactions to anything sudden.  Case in point, Grace and I were riding to the Rockaways a few years ago when I fishtailed in some sand and hit a curb.  I was going so slowly that all I had to do was put my foot down - just remove my foot from the pedal and ever so slightly stretch out my leg so my toes could meet the sidewalk.  Instead I opted to let the bike tumble over with me still fully attached, both hands gripped to the handlebars, feet somehow attempting to pedal as if it would prevent the inevitable.  Now place me on the side of a mountain and the consequences are a bit more painful than having to ask the local fire department for some antiseptic and bandaids.  However, despite my inherent quirks, this time around I was not to be deterred. 

Park City has a very extensive network of biking trails that meander through the town and up into the surrounding mountains and/or hills.  Even the city itself is very bike friendly with biking lanes, paved trails, and cyclist-aware drivers.  We made a few phone calls and after a short stroll from our hotel, we found ourselves chatting up the bike shop dudes while trying to figure out what we had just signed ourselves up for. 

Being that neither one of us had ever attempted mountain biking before, we were sure to ask about the difficulty of the trails, specifically which ones were for beginners.  You see - I was kind of a bit nervous about this whole downhill over rocks and such at a fast speed piece.  Yes, until a recent theft, I rode my bike throughout NYC.  And yes, I do plenty of other things that others may consider on the riskier side of things (ahem surfing… rock climbing…).  But I just couldn’t shake this idea that I was going to careen off the side of a mountain.  This preoccupation ultimately led to a gross oversight.  While I spent all this time worrying about getting down the mountain, I forgot to consider the whole getting up the mountain piece.   In case you haven’t already figured this out for yourself, let me help you out so you don’t make the same mistake I did.  They way up should definitely be one’s primary consideration.  Our initial excitement over reaching the trails quickly gave way to the realization that one must go up to come back down.  At times the only motivation I had to continue pedaling was knowing that I would otherwise be rolling backwards.    The bonus to the very real, all-consuming burning sensation in my thighs was that I suddenly no longer cared so much about falling.  If anything, it would have brought relief to the fire that was currently engulfing my lower limbs.  At least then I could have pretended to the guys back at the bike shop that I was so hardcore.  (Those dudes may have been the other motivation to keep my legs moving… freaking pride.) 

As we meandered up what was really just a large hill, we began to gain confidence in addition to our indifference to crashing.  No longer did we feel the need to be tied to the easy green trails.  No - we decided to go all in for the intermediate blue trails.  I know, we’re such daredevils.  Soon instead of accidentally careening off the trail, we were intentionally flying down it.  Mud splattered in our faces, rocks kicked up behind us, and while it was by no means pretty, we managed to avoid ditches and maneuver over obstacles.  And it was the greatest thing ever.  No longer did I care about the previous moment’s pain nor the very real possibility that I would eventually eat it on the trail, I wanted to experience that rush again. 

At some point, I became somewhat aware of the very dark and very large clouds rolling in behind us.  But what I failed to realize was how quickly that would mean pelting rain and blustery wind.  Against both of our better judgments, we attempted to make our way back up the hill again because how bad could it really be?  I know.  I am going to blame this one on all of my blood being in my thighs.  Fortunately, we didn’t get very far.  No sooner had we decided to attempt ascent that a very fancy looking rider (so much neon spandex) swung on by stating, ‘It’s really rough out there’ to which I brilliantly replied, ‘The trails?’ As though he was about to respond, ‘Yes, I know man - those trails are rough, have you tried the uphill bits?  They’re the worst.’  My new best friend gave me a look I thought was only reserved for my father as he gestured emphatically at the looming clouds and the far off lightning that had decided to accompany them while he furiously rode away.  Slightly defeated, we decided that yes, fancy biker dude you are in fact correct and yes, we should definitely be heading back to town. 

Another grand oversight on our part was that the trail we had chosen to come down led us to the lowest elevation and even better, the way back to town was directly into the wind.  For 2-3 miles, I stood while pedaling and simultaneously attempting to keep my body positioned as aerodynamically efficient as possible.  There was no talking at this point.  No smiling.  Not even a smirk.  Now the only motivation was the promise of hot chocolate and hot tub back at our hotel because rain + wind = freezing ladies. 

Just as we made it back toward the trail leading back to the shop, the sun decided to reappear warming us up and drying us out as we munched on some lunch.  It was at this point we had a bit of a realization - we had the bikes for 4 hours; we had only been out for maybe 3.  There was no way we were returning these bikes early on principle and pride.  So we did what any sane human being would do with sore bodies and time to kill.  We biked an extra 6 miles on the rail trail alongside some cattle, which brings us to oversight number 3… just in case you are keeping track.  I was slightly aware that it was much easier pedaling along this path and I knew, inherently, that the grade had to be working in our favour but how bad could it be?  We had just survived mountain biking and we were passing families with little ones and large groups of 20-30 somethings uneasily maneuvering their bicycles on the packed dirt.  Rookie mistake.  In addition to the grade, there was also the wind (how quickly one forgets) to contend with which meant that for the 5-6 miles back to the shop, we pedaled ever so slightly uphill and directly into the wind. 

As we neared the bike shop, my pride kicked back in and instead of taking the safe, paved trail all the way around I opted for the makeshift dirt and rock filled one because lest we forget - we are hardcore ladies who bike up mountains.  We dropped off our bikes outside and forced our legs to not wobble as we returned out helmets to the shop.  Asked how it went, we were all smiles -- ‘so much fun, it was awesome, best time ever but we totally got caught in a storm though’ -- to which bike shop dude replied -- ‘you don’t look wet.’  So much for impressing the locals.   

notes:

despite my previous whining, we really did have a ridiculously good time mountain biking.  the bike shop dudes (as they will forever be remembered and therefore referred to as such) recommended round valley which has a great variety of beginner and intermediate trails (here’s a map).  these trails are also open to hikers and horses so please remember that as a cyclist, everyone has right of way over you.  and please please please - always let a horseback rider know well in advance if you are approaching them from behind.  failing to do so could be detrimental to both the rider and you -- no one likes a hoof to the face.  no one.

we rented bikes with white pine touring.  the people there are super friendly (despite not acknowledging our obviously apparent badassery) and took the time to make sure we were comfortable with our bikes and where we were going.  also their shop is located right next to the rail trail making it pretty easy to get to a wide range of terrain.  if you are someone who actually mountain bikes - as in you’ve got skills- check out slim & knobby’s down in heber city. 

if only just for me, go to atticus teahouse should you find yourself in park city.  they have the cutest little book/sandwich/coffee/tea shop in town with lots of veggie friendly food, if that’s your thing.  for a huge, oh my goodness how did i eat so much breakfast, we enjoyed eating establishment.  they also have plenty of veggie dishes and even a few vegan options.  (you’ll have to ask for vegan modifications but a very kind and accommodating bunch). 

return to arches

While our first attempt at checking out Arches leading us to Canyonlands, my friend and I were not about to give up that easily, especially since my traveling buddy had never been.  As per our conversation with the always-friendly park ranger (my love for them is never-ending), we planned to arrive at the break of dawn.  With the sun just beginning to peek up from the horizon and the moon still high in the sky, we made our way to the trail leading to Delicate Arch.   

I’m not going to lie.  I kind of scoffed at the description of difficult in the visitor guide.  It's 480 feet up in 1.5 miles.  What they don't tell you is that you climb most of those feet in a very short distance.  Halfway up the giant mound of rock before us and I was seriously doubting myself, wondering if the burning in my bum muscles was worth it.  The obvious answer is - YES.  Delicate is one of the most popular sites at Arches and for good reason.  The freestanding 65 feet tall arch etched into the sandstone is mesmerizing to behold.  Better yet, due to our sunrise climb, there were only two other people there which provided some peace and quiet to take in the epic views as well as explore a bit of the area. 

After a bit of neighborly chats, photo taking, and breakfast munching, we set our sights on scurrying on over to the northern end of the park to Devil’s Garden.  This was the only part of Arches that I had previously explored (by foot) and it was just as lovely as I remembered it to be.  Oodles of arches and just enough scrambles to keep it interesting without questioning one's sanity.  The last time I was here, my friend and I ended up hiking with a father/son duo and chatted about life all along the primitive trail.  Once again we ended up chatting with a new hiking buddy the whole way back along the primitive trail.  I don’t know exactly what it is about this park but it truly brings out the best in people.  Or maybe the friendliest people visit?  Is it something in the water? 

My return to Arches has only further solidified my love for this region and the desert in general.  While before this trip I may have mentioned my love for Utah and its red rocks at appropriate times in conversation, I am now at the point of awkward proclaimer of my undying love.  You may want to chat about the impact of Brexit on the world economies - you know what else has an impact?  Southern Utah.  On my heart.  Oh yes friends, this relationship is just getting started.  Return trip planning is already in the works. 

notes:

arches can get incredibly crowded during the summers and over holidays (there’s even a handy graph).  we left the park around 11 am on a monday and there was already quite a wait for parking at the devil's garden trailhead.   also, it’s the desert.  by the time 10 am rolls around, it is getting hot and shade is hard to come by.  if you’re not up for sunrise hiking, i would be sure to get to the trails by 8 am at the latest and carry plenty of water.

we covered about 13.5 miles or so in 5 hours as we found the trails at arches to be less strenuous for us than what we encountered at canyonlands.  that being said, there are a number of places where you could very easily slip off the side of a ledge so mind your feets.

i really wanted to check out fiery furnace this time around but was pretty foolish and didn’t think to reserve us spots in advance.  if you are up for some ranger-led scrambles in the middle of arches, be sure to make a reservation.

along the lines of the previous point, i also didn’t reserve a campsite because devils garden has some first come, first served spots? so let’s just wing it?  we ended up sleeping in big bertha at a turn off near the 128/191 intersection by the park entrance.  just an option to keep in mind should you find yourself in a similar situation.

the entire time i was at arches, i could not get this song out of my head.  (i'll leave the surmising about why that song would be on repeat in my noggin for debate on another day.)  now for the disclaimer - we here at the lupine blog do not condone violence regardless of whether it is endorsed by your mother.  glad we cleared that up.

canyonlands national park, ut

Last time I was writing in this neck-of-the-woods it was a doozy so let's lighten things up a bit around here, shall we?  You may have thought that when I returned from six weeks in Jamaica I would have prioritized getting my ducks in a row back in NYC.  You would be wrong.  After spending most of spring in the Caribbean, I thought what better way to adjust back to life stateside than by going on vacation.  I know it's a rough life. 

I've mentioned before that I have a friend who's just as crazy if not crazier when it comes to planning epic hiking adventures.    Our current goal is to hit up a new national park each year.   Past trips include British Columbia and Montana but after a couple years of hiking in snow and avoiding post-hibernation bears we both were ready for something a bit warmer.  When the opportunity to spend a week in Park City presented itself, we went for it knowing that Moab would be less than a morning’s drive away.

Since the weather in Park City was expected to be rainy and cold the first couple of days we were in Utah, we decided to throw some blankets in big bertha and head on down to the desert. (I name my cars… I can't help it.  And yes, they’re all cars.  I don't care if you’re a hemi pick-up.  I'll still call you a car.  I know; I'm special.  And I digress.)  Our initial plan was to check out Arches National Park.  My friend had never been and it's definitely worth the hype.  Apparently, this is a well-known fact because when we arrived at the park entrance, there was a long line of cars backed up to the main road.  We moseyed our way in and eventually made it to the visitor center.  I've probably mentioned this before but my first stop to any park is to chat it up with the park rangers.  They know the best spots to check out for the time of year you are visiting, any hazards to be aware of, and are just genuinely awesome people.  Actually, I have yet to run into a parks person that I didn’t like - even the gift shop lady got me a bandaid from her purse!  Anyway, the friendly folks at Arches told us that unless we wanted to spend our day with the masses, we should take the time to drive to Canyonlands.  Given that we both prefer hikes when you forget other people exist, we hightailed it on over to the Needles.  

The drive to Canyonlands National Park is like no other park I have visited.  Miles of windy roads interspersed with cattle force you to slow down and just take it in.  This is not to say that I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed my other national park adventures but hypothetically speaking I may sometimes get a bit more focused on the destination rather than the journey.  It can be a struggle for me to remain focused in the present.  Perhaps a bit of the human condition.  Perhaps a bit personality quirk. All of this is to say, if you find yourself in need of a perspective reset, Canyonlands is the place to be.

After another stop at the Visitor Center, we eventually made it to the trailhead with maps in hand and ready to stretch our legs in the desert scenery.  I could not have been more excited about it.  By the time we hit the trails, we had been in the car for the better part of 7 hours and little miss does not do well being confined indoors for extended periods of time.  We climbed up and down amongst the red rocks inching our way closer to the spires in the distance.  Every 10 feet or so I would stop and say the same sort of phrase on repeat about the beauty of the place.  I’m fairly certain my travel buddy wanted to silence me as I could not help but proclaim my awe of the world around me. The end of May/beginning of June is the perfect time to see all the spring flowers blooming and it is just so freaking gorgeous. It was spirit fingers inducing.  (I wish I were joking.)  Despite my best efforts, it could not be captured by pictures. 

We had originally planned for a quick 6 mile hike as it was already mid afternoon by the time we reached the trailhead.  Given the scenery though we just didn't want to leave.   A few fellow hikers we met along the way mentioned that if we had the time, we had to make our way over to Druid Arch.  We had headlamps and fresh legs so we decided to go for it, effectively doubling our proposed hike and causing some hustle in our bustles.   The trail has a number of scrambles and is not for those with a fear of heights but the view is worth it.  We reached the arch just as the sun was beginning to set, changing the color of the desert rock before our eyes.  

As soon as we hydrated and munch on some snacks, we scampered back down the rocks and hurried along the trail in an effort to beat the setting sun.  With only an hour or so to cover five miles, our steps quickly became a jog keeping ourselves (and anyone within earshot) entertained by singing Disney classics and childhood camp songs.  Just as the sun slipped behind the horizon, big bertha came into view and we full out sprinted with open arms.  The heaviness of the previous weeks was lifted.  

"What makes the desert beautiful," said the little prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well."  

-- The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

notes:

in case you are interested in following our route, we parked at elephant hill and made our way to chesler park before cutting over to druid arch.  according to this handy map, the entire hike was about 12.6 miles with a fair amount of scrambling, especially as we approached the druid arch.  as with any hike (but even more so with a desert hike), be sure to bring plenty of water, snacks, and sunscreen.  there's limited shade and we never came across running water.  i carried 4 L of water.  yes, i am a camel.

we didn't have time to make our way to island in the sky or the maze while we were in canyonlands.  there are rivers in between the different sections of the park so unless you plan on hiking through you need to drive around.  as each part of the park has unique offerings, it would definitely worth be worth checking it out but just keep in mind you'll be logging some quality time in your vehicle.

relatedly, if you are driving on over to canyonlands from arches, make sure you get gas before you leave moab.  ask me how i know… 

culebra, puerto rico

As mentioned in our previous post, during a week in Puerto Rico, we hopped on a getaway during our getaway to Culebra, a small island off the coast of PR. It was an absolute dream. We took a little tiny sea plane 30 minutes and we went from the city of San Juan to pure island simplicity. The flight was an adventure in itself as there were only 8 of us! (5 of us on the return flight) You could feel every move of the wind and basically breathe onto the captain's neck. We rented an Airbnb for a few nights as well as a golf cart as our preferred mode of transportation. On the docket: beach hopping and living our best lives. 

Culebra is home to one of the top beaches in the world: Flamemco Beach, and I wanted to get there ASAP. It's truly just as nice as everyone says- full of that pure, white, silky sand that curves up and down the coast and that crystal clear turquoise water that just makes me go crazy. (In a good way.) The island isn't that big, so in the few days that we were there, we were able to hop around to several beaches, each with their own unique twist. One was famous for seeing sea turtles! I can't wait to go back and just park myself on Culebra for a week or two and explore and soak in more of its beauty. It is one of my new happy places. Small, simple, and not too commercialized. 

✈️🌊🙌 #puertorico #8personflight #culebra #travel #wanderlust #bestlife #byeeee #airflamenco

A video posted by grace freeman (@graceefree) on Apr 27, 2016 at 11:29am PDT

How much trouble could you get in with a golf cart? Well, when you have a boyfriend who used to do extreme sports and jump off of large ramps for a living, his mind starts getting a little creative driving around the hilly island...

Even though it rained a bit while we were there, that didn't stop is. Moreso, we had the beach and the crystal blue ocean mostly to ourselves, which would be our paradise. That and coconuts and pina coladas, which there are no lack of. So, you must have them daily. It's your obligation. The view from our AirBNB looked over the harbor, and what's better than having breakfast with a view of sailboats slowly drifting by? Did I mention there was a hammock?

On one of the beaches we were walking down we saw what we thought was a person meditating in the distance. However, upon approaching we realized it was a couple taking a hundred selfies and we rolled our eyes and felt pretty awkward. How many selfies does one need? We brought a fancy camera on our trip and didn't really use it. We didn't come on the trip to have a photo shoot- there's so much more to breathe in than that. We had weather-proof phones and a GoPro, so we threw those in our bags and snapped a few things here and there and had some fun. I'm at a crux of wishing I took more pictures and wishing I didn't touch technology at all at the beach.  Most of the snaps below are credited to Ray Mendez...especially his first ever slomo video, which ended up being my saltiest pina colada ever :)  Oh and he made me hop up on the infamous tank on the beach and "dance" on it. This would be the most "working out" I did during the entire week. Unless you count lifting coconuts. 

Notes: 

- STAY: get an AirBNB with a good view. I think they all have one. it's affordable, cozy, and more intimate than staying at a hotel. hopefully, by staying there, you're supporting the good guys.

- TRAVEL: you can fly Air Flamenco from the main island to Culebra, or hop on the ferry from Fajardo. the ferry is inexpensive, but it is known for not sticking to the schedule, selling out, and having very long lines/waits. so there's a bit of a gamble there. the flight may have been more expensive, but it was 30 minutes with a killer view! 

- RIDE: rent a golf cart for $40-$50/day. you don't have to plan this ahead of time, they'll have them waiting at the tiny airport and where the ferry docks. if you want something a little more sturdy, they have jeeps too :)

- EAT: at Dinghy Dock. chill and drink with the locals, have amazzinnngg food, and be entertained by the little sharks that may swim up to the dock after the sun goes down.

- GO: even if just for a day trip. it's worth it. 

- DON'T: give any fucks what you look like in a bikini. not worth it. 

a week in puerto rico

Hola. So, Puerto Rico saved my life. This spring I had become overwhelmed with taking on too much work with not enough boundaries (freelancer life lessons), and I was starting to feel like a zombie in the endless New York winter. Lucky me, there were cheap flights to Puerto Rico and my boyfriend used to live that island life there for a few years, so I enlisted the perfect local guide. This was the first time I felt that "I need a vacation from work soooo badly" desire like most adults do. To be honest, there's so much traveling I've put off over the past 10 years. I've been so deeply involved in the trenches of the dance community in NYC, I just didn't want to make plans to leave or miss anything. I'm feeling some freedom from that in this season of life, so hello spring break! We loved PR, and we'll be going back as often as possible. Rest assured: you'll be so annoyed at me pressuring all of you to go to Puerto Rico by the end of the year. 

Needless to say, we woke up our first morning in San Juan to this John Oliver video breaking down the issues of the economic crisis (worth informing yourself if you're ignorant to it...you will be rewarded with a rap from Lin-Manual Miranda at the end). As the week progressed, we had lunches, and dinners, and drinks with local friends and as I peeked into their lives, I really got a taste for how complicated (and frustrating) the issues are. There are more Puerto Ricans living in NYC than in Puerto Rico, and each year a devastating number of citizens move to the continental US, because there are more work opportunities. I feel honored to have met several artists who are proud to be Puerto Rican and are fighting to shape a reality on their island that others can be proud of too. There is so much beauty to be found; it is an island and a people that deserve to be treasured, respected, and empowered. 

We spent our first few days in Old San Juan. A lot of tourists stay in San Juan, but they're really staying in Isla Verde or Condado...not necessarily our style. I loved the character of staying in the old town with colorful buildings full of hundreds of years of life and stories in their walls and cobblestone streets. Staying on a strip of hotels doesn't seem as interesting to me. But, hey, I won't judge people for wanting to stay at a large comfortable hotel on the beach. I think it's just a different experience. Even if you do stay in the more touristy spots, take a day in the old city to wander up and down the streets, eat the delicious food, and check out El Morro. (There are even some secret beautiful nooks in the old fort you can sneak into in the wee hours of the night and hear the waves crashing below you and think about what life was like pulling into these ports hundreds of years ago...)

Though I may have had the intentions of sitting my butt on the beach and letting the ocean do its soul-searching work it seems to do so well, we got caught in the rain a lot. And I don't know what's more liberating than walking around in a warm island storm without a care in the world with your love. You can't control the weather, so just accept it and let it pour down on you. La Perla became even more colorful in the rain, though I wouldn't necessarily say you should go wandering around that neighborhood in the first place (unless with a local).  

On Monday nights there's a local spot in Santurce where musicians gather to play traditional music. Well I guess it started up with just about 10 people months ago, but now it's a weekly celebration of people overflowing and dancing in the streets. These are the moments and experiences I like the most - it feels like an authentic slice of life. And there was dancing and live music, so I was sold. I'd choose a $3 beer out of a plastic cup at an event like this than a fancy meal in a hotel surrounded by tourists any day. We went from Bonanza to La Repuesta, where a friend DJs for the Monday night party. There was a line around the block to get in! The crowd was more of a mix of locals and travelers that were ready to partyyyy and had heard of the scene. Inside was a full dance floor, drinks galore, and music into the wee wee hours. Yes, this was Monday night. Quite the way to start off the week of relaxation.

We stayed in Santurce a few days as well, which feels like the LES. A little rough around the edges, keeping out the bougie folks, but full of graffiti and beautiful street art around every corner. Also delicious food. You MUST go to La Casita Blanca for a real Puerto Rican meal. It's one of my boyfriend's favorite places, and we tried to go three days in a row (I suggest double-checking what the hours are during the week). Worth it though, and it has a true local vibe. I also may have had shrimp and mofongo for at least one meal per day. 

There were so many different things to experience in Puerto Rico, but we weren't in a rush. The glory is: the beach is everywhere. All you have to do is pull over on the side of the road. You can even pull over on the side of the road AND have a whole beach to yourself for the sunset (ideal). 

divine sunsets call for divine frolicking 🙌 #puertorico #wanderlust #sunsetporn #lovepink #dancerproblems

A video posted by grace freeman (@graceefree) on May 1, 2016 at 7:17pm PDT

We tried to go to El Yunque one day, which is a massive rainforest, and hike to some waterfalls. However, it was closed that day as they were doing a large-scale search for a missing person who got swept up in a flash flood a few days before. Good to remember: check out the conditions before you head that way AND worth being careful as the conditions in the rainforest can change really quickly. We'll try again next time and will probably be a little more careful. 

We finished the week out with friends at La Placita in Santurce, which is a plaza surrounded by bars, restaurants, and markets. On Sunday afternoons, the bands come out to play and the streets become alive. We left PR with some sun on our face, full bellies, and a buzz from too many pina coladas. We'll be back for more of it alllll. 

ALSO, we spent a few days on a small island off of Puerto Rico called Culebra, which was an absolute dream. A dream deserving of its own post. So, more on that shortly...