If it’s your first time? It will shape the entire tone of your trip.

Most flights into BQN arrive somewhere between midnight and 5 a.m. Every now and then, you’ll get a rare 8 p.m. or 10:30 p.m. landing — but most likely, prepare to arrive at the hour when even the coquí are exhausted.

And because of that, your first 24 hours in Rincón matter more than you think. This is not a day to improvise or rush. This is the day you transition — from the life you just left behind to the freedom you came here looking for.

But first… you have to land.

Here’s how to make your first 24 hours feel soft instead of chaotic.

Let’s keep it real: landing in the middle of the night is uncomfortable.
You’re tired.
You’re hungry.
You’re carrying too many bags. Maybe a dog.
And everything is quiet. Limited food options.

But “quiet” doesn’t mean “impossible.”

Not a list. Not a whole grocery run.
Just… something.
Whatever would make your body exhale the moment you walk into your stay.

Most hosts can make a little magic happen if you ask ahead.

And if you’re a Ramé traveler?
Tell me what you want. We’ll figure it out.

There are a handful of 24-hour gas-station convenience stores in Aguadilla, Aguada, and Rincón.

Not many — but enough to get you through the night.

Hot food might be available (think empanadas, if you’re lucky), but don’t count on it.

What you can count on: bread, snacks, water, and a few basics to hold you over until morning.

Just plan ahead and stay in touch. Text or call your driver if you think you’ll need a quick stop or want to see if they can grab a few items for you in advance.

They do late-night runs all the time — but keep in mind, they’re still human.

Location:
Rincón Town Square

Hours?
Nobody knows.
They simply appear open at the most ungodly times.

Every time we arrive at a terrible hour, they’re there.
It feels spiritual at this point.

If you reach Rincón early enough and see lights on?
GO INSIDE.
Bless yourself with whatever they have.

If you want to enjoy your first 24 hours — really enjoy them — you need to set yourself up with comfort.

Landing between midnight and 5 a.m. is survivable.
Landing between midnight and 5 a.m. with no plan is a mistake.

This is the first moment of your trip.
Honor it.

Your sleep strategy depends entirely on why you came and how long you came for.

If you're only here for 2–3 days, you need to sleep 4 hours max.
Seriously.
You need the morning light, you need to get into your body, and you need to not sleep through half your short trip.

Power through.
You can do it.

Sleep until your soul wakes up.

If that’s 11 a.m.?
Beautiful.
If that’s 3 p.m.?
Perfect.

Your nervous system is transitioning.
Let it.

This is non-negotiable in the Ramé Way.

Go to whatever panadería opens early.
Get your egg sandwich or whatever calls you.
Then go straight to the beach — Lala’s Beach is perfect for this — and eat with your feet in the sand.

Don’t expect fast service.
Don’t expect Manhattan efficiency.
Don’t expect structure.

Expect the breeze.
Expect the light.
Expect your shoulders to lower.

And listen…
If you crack open a Medalla at 10 a.m., you're in good company.
I don’t even like Medalla — except when I do.

Drink coconut water if you find a real coconut,
but not on an empty stomach unless you want a surprise.
(Trust me.)

The west coast loves a 1–4 p.m. rain shower.
It’s not a storm.
It’s a cleansing.

As long as you don’t hear thunder — if you can hear it, it’s close enough to hit you — let the rain fall on your skin.

This is the island’s way of saying hello.

When your body is ready, make your way to the lighthouse.

You can take the Paseo Tres Palmas — a beautiful coastal path that hugs the water. It eventually leads you back onto the street before guiding you toward the lighthouse, but honestly, that transition is part of its charm.

If the ocean is calm and you have snorkel gear?
Get in.
Tres Palmas on a gentle day is a jewel.

If you’re in a slow mood:
Take a book.
Sit on the grass near the lighthouse.
Stretch.
Breathe.
You won’t look out of place — everyone is doing their own thing, and you get to set your own tempo.

Then head down toward María’s and watch the surfers dance in the water.

Before the day ends, find a:

If you find one of those colorful caterpillars — the ones that look painted — tell them I send them love.
They were the stars of my childhood.

And if you find the flower where you can gently pull out the style and taste a tiny drop of sweetness?
You know what to do.

Dinner in Rincón is not about checking boxes.
Pick whatever spot you feel called to.
Sit outside if you can.
Let the night air settle into you.

Your real adventures begin tomorrow.
Today was about arrival — the soft kind.

🧡 Thank you for being a Ramé Traveler.
Your first 24 hours set the tone — and I hope yours feels soft, slow, and beautifully you.