We pulled open the heavy iron gate and stepped into a small open-air courtyard shrouded in shadows, the moonlight lending an extra sense of magic to what was an enchanting place in any light. We could make out silhouettes of statues and the large leaves of lush tropical plants.

We were shown to our room and then encouraged to explore. The inn's owners host a wine and cheese reception every evening, and so we headed to the wine deck, peeking into alcoves along the way.

The wine deck is part of a larger courtyard that overlooks the pool and serves as the heart of the inn. There to greet us, amidst a mingled group of guests and friends, was Manuco. A man with a hearty laugh and charming accent, he was clearly the center of the gathering even though he stood at the edge of it. "How was your flight?" he asked, and then, concerned, "Have you eaten dinner?" When we assured him that we had, he smiled and suggested a glass of wine. His wife, Jan, walked up to us and admired a stunning bloom we were standing next to. "Do you see it, there?" she asked us, hushed. "It's very rare."

The waiter then appeared at our side with wine. As he handed me a glass, he smiled and said, "Welcome home."

Weary from the trip and wanting to unwind, we found a quiet corner table where we spent several hours sipping wine and taking everything in. The ambiance of the place was palpable - the balmy air, the scent of tropical flowers, the muffled sounds of laughter and conversation. Together in one of our favorite places on earth, relaxed by the warmth and the wine, we sat there, suffused with joy. It was an entrancing evening, perhaps the best we have ever spent together.

I feared the place would lose its magic in the daylight, but that was certainly not the case. The sunlight only revealed more rooms to explore, more staircases to climb, more decks to discover. Much of the inn is open air, which gave the surreal feeling of being simultaneously indoors and out. Every guest we passed wore the same silly smile we displayed, as if to say, "This place! Can you believe this place?!" Sculptures, created by Jan, stared at us wherever we went, the only witnesses to our wonder.

Our room's balcony overlooked the cobblestone street below, with views of the sea to the left and right. And from the inn's rooftop deck, all of Old San Juan and the surrounding area could be seen. We sat there for awhile the second evening, watching the lights of the city glitter beneath the faint twinkle of stars. I could see the rooftops of the buildings nearby, and snippets of street below. San Juan stretched out in front of us, and the rest of the world beyond that. Sitting on this roof in this city, we were a pinpoint on the map, a tiny spot. We sat there holding hands, content in this lush garden looking out over paradise.