First Day in the D.R.

From the time we left our house it took us almost exactly 24 hours to arrive at our B&B near Playa Dominicus in the Dominican Republic. We first drove to Las Vegas, boarded a plane to Los Angeles, then another to Miami, and finally a third to Santo Domingo. From there we found a taxi to drive us the final hour and a half to Playa Dominicus. It was non-stop moving. 

As we descended toward Las Américas International Airport I was fascinated by the neat, cutout plantations and miles of neighborhoods with dirt roads. The thought crossed my mind that there would be much of the D.R. that I would never see on this trip. Also, as I gazed down, I was mesmerized by the vast number of baseball fields dotting the landscape. I'll bet I counted at least twenty. Béisbol, as it is called here, is the national sport. 

A common mode of transportation in the D.R.

Our taxi driver made sure we got a picture of the national beer.

This trip was spontaneous for us. Usually I plan trips years in advance, but this one was dreamed up only a month or two prior. Hence, there were a lot of uncertainties on our path. For one, I didn't know which currency was most often used. For another, I didn't know how we'd get to our first destination, an hour and a half from the airport. 

All this was solved when a throng of soliciting taxi drivers approached and one offered to drive us for 110 US dollars. —I didn't want to worry any more, so we took it. 

Wilson, our driver of African descent, spoke both English and Spanish and in both we conducted our business. The more he talked, the more I could smell cannabis on his breath. He drove 5 mph below the speed limit while he read texts. But he was super friendly. I learned that both his mother and father had died, but he had five siblings. He was born and raised in a nearby town called La Caleta. 

First glimpses of the D.R. came through a taxi window.

It was in the back seat of his taxi where I got my first up-close glimpse of the Dominican Republic. It reminded me much of Mexico with the same style of tattered buildings and trash on the ground. We passed several fruit stands on the side of the road, some selling coconuts. I was fascinated with all the mopeds on the highways, some carrying up to three people and others carrying loads of lumber. 

Fields of sugarcane, or caña, lined the road. It was the first time I had ever seen sugarcane. It looked to me like giant blades of grass. 

Sugarcane field.

I was also impressed with their cattle. They had long protruding horns similar to Texas long-horns. They fed in pastures alongside the road. Once we saw them grazing in a sugarcane field. 

We finally arrived at our B&B where we checked into a small room with a balcony. After 24 hours on the move, we were excited to finally lay on a bed! Our bodies were exhausted and we had no idea of time. We had traveled back one time zone, then forward four with little or no sleep. 

Balcony view from our hotel.

With only three hours of daylight left we headed to the street. After purchasing a SIM card at a so-called mini-mart, I withdrew 15,000 pesos from an ATM machine. [Let me say that at this point, I felt like I was throwing money away left and right. I felt like I was getting scammed over every transaction and I didn't know what anything was worth. It was certainly a learning curve as far as money was concerned.] 

We then proceeded to walk to the beach, unfortunately having to circumvent a massive resort that claimed so much property. To get to the beach we had to walk the narrow Avenida Eladia, a street filled with gift shops and restaurants to lull the tourists. In front of every shop was a a black guy who usually asked if we spoke French. (My guess is that many of them were Haitian immigrants and mistook us for French tourists, hoping they could apply their common tongue.) 

They sold jewelry, including larimar pendants, ice cream, and who knows what else. It was like running the gauntlet and it was the only street we could take. But it wasn't our day to buy souvenirs, so we pushed through. 

Playa Dominicus.

At last we rounded the corner and onto the fine white sand of Playa Dominicus. What a paradise! The Caribbean-blue water lapped against the shore and a forest of palm trees dotted the beach. Never had I seen so many palm trees on a beach. 

A few places opened shop in shacks along the shore. They were of the same variety that we passed earlier, each with aggressive hustlers trying to get our business. 

Several resorts claimed property along the beach, with their clientele lounging in chairs along the water. We could pass through those private sections, but if one wanted to stop and lounge, he had to do it on the public section. 

Strolling here was a beach-watchers Eden. The coastline crawled with people wading in the water or cooking in the sun. Men lounged, some with tattooed tanned skin, while the women flaunted their bodies in bikinis. Somewhere off in the distance a rumba played and couples danced. 

Jenelle took off her sandals and walked along the shore close enough that from time to time the silky water came up and licked her feet. I, on the other hand, enjoyed the moment, but was foolish enough to wear Levi's and tennis shoes. That would change tomorrow. 

We timed our stroll just right to view the sunset. I have seen few better. As the sun approached the sea, deep colors of red and pink began to paint the thick clouds behind the palm trees. The sky above the sea radiated in orange and the pier darkened to a silhouette. We couldn't have had a more perfect evening!

Playa Dominicus at sunset.

On our way back to the hotel we stopped for dinner. It was funny that most of the restaurants served Italian food. That is probably to cater to tourists, but also because this little beach town has had tremendous Italian influence over the years. 

Jenelle ordered linguini and I the rice with habichuelas (one of the few Dominican items on the menu). Then we had one last surprise: 

A family of three pulled up to our table. The father played a guitar and the daughter strummed an instrument with a comb. Mother sang. —And while we ate they serenaded us with “Bésame mucho,” a song that made us smile. We gave them a couple bucks and they moved on their way. ♠

Evening serenade.