Aruba

SEVEN DAYS OF HISTORY AND ADVENTURE

An adventure through the wonders of nature and architecture of Aruba. See below

I stepped off the plane with a strange mix of exhaustion and anticipation. The air was warm, salted, and carried a softness I hadn’t felt in months. At the airport, everything moved gently — no rush, no chaos. Just smiles and the scent of tropical flowers.

The hotel shuttle was waiting, a quiet driver named Miguel who offered me a chilled towel and a bottle of water. We drove along the coast, passing pastel houses and glimpses of turquoise sea. When we arrived, the receptionist greeted me with a calm warmth that felt almost rehearsed — but not in a bad way. It was the kind of welcome that made you feel expected.

“Welcome to Aruba,” she said, handing me a small glass of tamarind juice. “You’re here to rest. Let the island take care of the rest.”

My room was simple, sunlit, and opened onto a small balcony with a view of the sea. I dropped my bag, changed into something light, and walked barefoot toward Eagle Beach.

The sand was soft and pale, the divi-divi trees bent like dancers mid-bow. I lay down under one and let the breeze wrap around me. I didn’t speak. I didn’t need to. That first afternoon was for listening — to the waves, to the wind, and to the quiet voice inside me that had been waiting for space.

On the next day I wandered through Oranjestad’s pastel streets, letting the city’s rhythm guide me. The colonial facades, the scent of fresh pastechi, the quiet buzz of harbor life — it all felt like a soft awakening. I could feel the history in the air. I could almost hear the ghosts of the old pirates walking along those same streets. Not to haunt me, but just to make me remember that history is not something a boring teacher speaks to us in a classroom to apply a test later, but something real, we can see, touch and even smell. I bought a small notebook and began to write again. Something inside had started to stir. Buying souvenirs is part of any travel. Do this in a place where history talks to you is another level of acquiring those memories. My second day ended with a marvelous dinner in the hotel, with local specialities.

My next adventure was at Arikok National Park. Wind and stone welcomed me with astonished landscapes. I hiked alone, surrounded by cacti and cliffs. Each hill challenged me to a small escalade for a new landscape. At Fontein Cave, I traced ancient petroglyphs and felt the weight of forgotten voices. Now pre-history talked to me. I could almost see and feel the presence of the first people that lived in those caves. The wind never stopped — it felt like the island was whispering truths I hadn’t dared to hear. The day was exhausting but nothing that the pool of the hotel was not able to fix. As the sun said goodby by coloring the sky as he uses to do my mind was already planning the next day’s adventure.

Another day, another adventure. Snorkeling at Boca Catalina was like entering another world. Coral gardens, darting fish, and a sea turtle that moved with quiet grace. Floating there, I felt suspended — not just in water, but in thought. I surfaced lighter than I’d arrived. Watching underwater life up close is not the same as a in a land preserve. We can get close, almost touch the animals. The colors of this hidden world makes it appear unreal. The warm water makes the experience particular pleasant. Like the day before, my day ended in the pool of the hotel up to the sun said goodby at his usual colorful way.

The next day I dedicated to a journey to Conchi. It was rough, but the reward was raw beauty. Waves crashed against volcanic rock, and the pool held me like a secret. I swam alone, laughing at the sky. It was the kind of joy that doesn’t ask permission. An adventure full of adrenalin. Once again, the sun found me in the pool at the hotel when he went to his bed.

The end of my journey was coming. But I was still thirsty for adventures. On this day I visited California Lighthouse. I climbed the hill just before dusk. From the top, Aruba unfolded — sea, sand, and sky melting into gold. I sat quietly, watching the light fade. It felt like the island was saying goodbye before I even asked it to. This time the sun found me there at the end of his journey. A privileged place to watch that show.

The end of the journey has finally arrived I packed slowly, reluctant. At the pier, I watched boats sway and gulls circle. Aruba had become more than a place — it was a pause, a mirror, a breath. As the plane lifted, I looked down one last time and whispered:

“Some places don’t ask you to change. They just remind you how to feel.”