We had clambered up onto the fort wall and traced its path to a spot where the wall met the hillside and provided a secluded perch from which to gaze at the sea. Later, when we turned back, we would discover that we'd unknowingly crossed a Do Not Cross line, which I'm glad we only noticed in hindsight or else my dear husband would have been steadfast in his refusal to climb the wall and we would have been deprived this little spot altogether. As it was, we stood there for a long time, in the shadow of the fort, watching the ocean lap at the rocky shore below and peering at the squiggly shoreline as it faded into the distance, outlining the small city of Old San Juan.

We'd been chattering and exclaiming all day, but this particular moment we soaked up in silence until, after a bit, Rob said, "I think this might be my favorite place on earth."

"I've been thinking the same thing."

Strangely, I'm unable to properly articulate why we feel this way. The city is utterly charming and undoubtedly delights everyone who visits. But I suspect that our passion for the place has just as much to do with our personal discovery of it. We first visited Old San Juan in 2006 and unlike almost everywhere else we have traveled, we did not arrive on recommendation or with any expectation. We were there to catch a cruise, and we set out to explore the city simply because it was there. And in no time at all, we were enchanted by it. The bright colors and cobblestones charmed us. We fell in love with the forts. We were literally delighted at every turn. That this was a surprise to us meant that we felt we had "discovered" the place together, and I think that made it all the more meaningful to us. There is almost a sense of ownership, a feeling that this is our place because of that first experience we shared here.

And so even though we rarely travel to a place we've already been (with New York, the city that makes my heart sing, being the obvious exception), we chose San Juan as one of the places to visit with our JetBlue pass. And upon a second inspection, we only fell for it more deeply.

The nice thing about visiting a place you have already been is the warm familiarity you feel, like that of rereading a beloved book or visiting a dear friend. As we strolled the streets of Old San Juan, Rob and I pointed out memories from our last visit. "Here is where we got caught in that rainstorm, remember?" In the same way that Hamill describes the histories contained in the buildings of New York, Old San Juan (as well as every other place we visit) is dotted with small moments from our personal history. Memories linger where we create them, residing there until the next time we pass by and pause for a moment to relive them.

There's also comfort in returning to a place that remains the way you remember it (as well as a small bit of intrigue in spying the things that have changed). A few times in San Juan we happened upon a spot that we remembered having photographed the first time - a colorful house or lovely balcony - that had gone completely unchanged. And Rob snapped the same photo again, which for some odd reason pleases me to no end.

But, for all we had already loved about this place, we were very happy to realize there was still much to discover. We revisited some of our favorite spots and discovered some new spots as well. (There are two places in particular that stand out, but each deserves its own post.) Mostly we just reveled in being there, surrounded by a place that just feels so good to us.