Friday, October 27, 2017

Our Trip to the Dominican Republic

     Lewis and I vacationed in the Dominican Republic in the Caribbean.  It shares half of an island with Haiti.  We planned our trip to happen before the peak cruise-ship season inundated the area, but after the tropical storm season.  October is ideal.  In fact, DR was grateful for its tourism, since neighboring islands got pummeled by that year's string of storms.  We travelled to the coastal city of Puerto Plata and had reservations at Lifestyles Tropical Resort & Spa, which has lots of beachfront.



     The day of our departure, I actually arrived at JFK airport twice.  Why?  The first time our Uber dropped us off, we entered the airport terminal and attempted to self-print our boarding passes.  But, we'd forgotten our passports; each of us thinking the other had packed them!  So, I immediately went outside, grabbed the first cab, and sped back home to Astoria.  Angels above ensured that I got home in 15 minutes.  Summoning another Uber (cheaper than my taxi ride), I went into my apartment, took our passports, and got back to the street, as the driver arrived.  Angels assisted me getting back to the airport in another 15 miraculous minutes! 


     Going to our island destination, we boarded our first flight on JetBlue.  


      It might be a "no frills airline", but we were impressed to finally experience an American air carrier that treated its "coach" passengers nicely.  Spacious legroom, smiley service, clean seats, quick beverage service, and unlimited snacks (as compared to pricier tightfisted airlines that merely give only one small bag of peanuts for the entire ride)!



     We landed at a modest airport on the island-nation.  This is DR's coat of arms.

 

     Puerto Plata is the provincial capital, and this is its flag.

     In 1496, the explorer, Christopher Columbus, arrived from Europe and was awestruck by its foggy beauty.  The city was founded in 1502 by Spanish conquistadors as a colonial settlement of the Kingdom of Spain.  As the main port, it often struggled against pirates of the Caribbean and English privateers (pirates) who worked secretly for Queen Elizabeth I.

     The airport overlooks the Atlantic Ocean.  It is so small that passengers exit from their planes onto the runway and walk to the terminal.  





    I was pleased with T-Mobile, during this trip, too.


     A small band of musicians celebrated our arrival!



     The currency rate is 1 peso = 2 cents.  Thus, a few dollars gratuity to the savvy baggage attendant at the airport bypassed time-consuming procedures and promptly got us aboard our shuttle to the hotel.  


     Soon, the comfy bus swung through the entrance of our resort and deposited us under thporte-cochère  near the sparkling fountain.  



Doormen wearing safari hats brought our carry-on luggage to the front desk.  



     Alcohol & food was complimentary for our all-inclusive stay, but it was still a welcome treat to get a rum drink from the lobby bar, as we checked in.  Fedora-wearing men drove guests to their rooms.




     Our room was perfectly near the pool, beach, activity center, and two of the nine restaurants.  Peacocks roamed the grounds!



(Below) that sliver of swimming pool started right near our room, and we used it daily for our morning entrance to the rest of the pool areas (it gets deeper as you wade in).


A beautiful old tree grew nearby.


A footpath quickly led us to see the ocean.  Palm trees gave shade to cozy tables and chairs on the beach.



     After unpacking and admiring the view from the veranda...


...we breakfasted at an open-air restaurant.  




     Then, we returned to the concierge desk to plan our excursions.  The first one we wanted to do was horseback riding through the mountains!  
     An open-air coach drove us to the nearby horse ranch.




     It was our first time on horses, so we were ecstatic!  Thankfully, the horses were well-trained to behave nicely, and they follow each another along the well-worn bridle paths.  



     Some people had difficulty getting mounted.  We "hopped into the saddles" rather well, and we easily learned to use the reins and stirrups.  Once astride, we did a fine job at maneuvering.  Thankfully, six staff on horseback accompanied our group of 12 riders, to keep us literally "in line" and prevent horses from pausing to munch on tree leaves.  We cantered through farmland, a cocoa plantation, leaped over creeks, along public dirt roads, and up the mountain for breathtaking views!  






     A light drizzle occurred, but it came just as we gave the horses a "grass break", so we scooted under a nearby farmhouse porch.  We saw cows and baby ducklings!  





The homeowner offered to sell us bottled water/soda, and his daughter politely picked roses as a free gift for each female in our group.  Then, she shucked her sandals, climbed a guava tree and shook loose some fruit for anyone to have!  Such simple hospitality!  From there, our mounts climbed the summit of a ridge, and we savored the expansive view!


*To see the next time that we rode horses, please use this link:

     We trotted back to the ranch, and several employees tried to earn extra income by offering souvenirs and "refreshments".




     In a gift shop, Lewis noticed a hand-carved statue of a horse that made from petrified wood.  Full of delight, he bought it as a keepsake, and it now occupies a shelf on our bookcase.



     The shuttle van drove us back to the hotel, just in time to soak our butts in the beachside whirlpool.  Then, we rested in the "hanging beach beds" to enjoy late-afternoon sunshine.  We stayed out until dusk.





That night, we dined at the candlelit buffet restaurant, while two strolling guitarists serenaded everyone and attentive waiters kept wine glasses full.




Late-night jazz singers at the pool--and rum drinks--brought us to our pillows quickly.




     The following day started with an early dip in the pool.  





     After a leisurely breakfast, we took an air-conditioned bus tour of Puerta Plata "proper", two rum factories, an organic chocolate factory, a historic fort, a cigar rolling shop, and the cathedral.  The driver was accompanied by a congenial tour guide.  



Studying to be a lawyer in the otherwise corrupt government, the native-born man hopes for improvement.  His passion for the area was evident!  He educated us, as we drove along the "boardwalk".





     Thankfully, we started with the BEST part: the Del Oro chocolate factory!  Owned by a humble American, it takes advantage of the ancient lineage of Dominican cacao trees.  Around the world, many cacao trees succumbed to disease, which caused chocolate producers to start planting other kinds of trees.  Those other trees cannot compare to the fruit made by DR's trees.  Over centuries, the trees in DR miraculously avoid those diseases... thus producing a great a flavor.  



     Our tour involved lots of samples of chocolate, freshly made hot cocoa (with cinnamon), and freshly-baked brownies.  It smelled HEAVENLY as soon as we entered the building.  We briefly met the owner, unexpectedly.  We saw how they harvest, dry-age, roast, stone-grind, liquify, and prepare the cacao into chocolate.   




It was so delectable that it reminded us of the cocoa and churros that we snacked on in the Kingdom of Spain!  (seen here)




Since the early 1600s, the Spanish "love of chocolate" came from places like this.  


Del Oro also makes the better-known label: Pirate's Bounty Chocolate (which includes locally-sourced rum flavors). 


     Speaking of rum, our next stop was the Brugal Rum Factory.  It smelled equally pleasant!  Despite its lineage of being family-owned, the latest generation sold it to a Scottish distilling company, Eddington Group, for $200 million in 2008.




     We saw/smelled the local molasses that they use, and watched how the distilling occurs.  We saw a video of how they torch the barrels (of American Oak) at different levels of char, to produce different varieties of flavor.  





The factory's guide was heavy-handed when pouring shot glasses of rum samples!  To say "Cheers" is Brindis!



     He also pointed out that females are restricted from working in the actual factory... "because the mixing of genders might create babies".  Maybe they should hire gay guys.  



     It is a huge operation, and I imagine that their barrel-aging facility must be a sprawling cellar... in order to produce so many cases of rum bottles per day!  



     Our bus pulled away and crossed town to a 16th-century fort.  To keep "spirits high", our bus guide surprised us by offering "Rum & Coke" or shots of rum, as complimentary beverages.  




     The City of Puerto Plata was founded by conquistadors in 1502, and it's the oldest continuously-inhabited European settlement in the Americas.  Originally called the Spanish Indies, it was lorded by the Spanish Crown of Castile.  The Spanish Habsburgs ruled from 1516 until 1700, followed by Bourbon monarchs.  During those eras, pirates and privateers notoriously plundered cargo/gold-laden galleons en route for Spain.  The Imperial Colony achieved independence in 1865.










     The 500-year-old Fortaleza San Felipe has low doorways and ceilings.  It shows how much shorter humans used to be!  (Growth hormones in our food since the early 1900's is probably to blame).  




For Lewis and I, the low doorways were evocative of the fortress and the castle that we explored in Japan.  To see that, please click this link:


     In 1564, the seaside fort was commission by King Phillip II of Spain to protect the territory from pirates.  





     The exhibits of art show how the Catholic Church tormented the native inhabitants, as Spaniards enslaved and killed them.  



     One painting showed a Catholic priest "eyeing" a well-endowed man... which caused tourists to discuss recent priest/child-molestation that was highlighted in the Oscar-winning film Spotlight.  




     Above the harbor, on the mountaintop of Isabel de Torres, is a Catholic-built statue of Jesus Christ.  It was inspired by the one in Buenos Aires.


     The fort is the last remnant of 16th-century Puerto Plata; everything else was burned during wars of the Great Restoration, when DR was created apart from Spanish rule.


*To see when we explored a magnificent fortress in Norway, please use this link: https://halfwindsorfullthrottle.blogspot.com/2023/08/our-trip-to-oslo-norway-storting.html

     Next, we zoomed into the parking lot of Ron Macorix (Ron means "rum", which I'll happily tell my friend, Ron).  We detected evidence of an unspoken former family-relatinonship between Brugal and Macorix rum companies.  That factory didn't show us their bottling/boxing assembly line, as Brugal had, but they did offer more varieties to taste.






     The driver sped us to the local Amber Museum, which is famous for hosting the creators/actors of "Jurassic Park".  Housed in a renovated Victorian mansion, it's a rather small museum--quickly traversed.  





     The actual city-center of Puerto Plata is admittedly "passable".  If you don't visit it in person, you won't miss much.  Pictures will suffice.  Yet, is shows the poverty of much of DR... continuing despite the centuries of "progress".   










     The cathedral lacks a pipe organ; a classroom-style upright piano makes music instead.  Pigeons fly through the open windows of the hot building.  Stone construction was too costly, so the plaster building is not cool inside.  Just like on NYC's Fifth Avenue, peddlers and sidewalk vendors walk through the church unimpeded, trying to get people to buy stuff from them.  Just like at NYC's Grand Central Terminal, the ornate light fixtures have been neglected.  It's sad.  The place is supposed to inspire hope.  







     In fact, anywhere beyond the resorts involves iron-barred windows of decrepit shacks/stores.  





     Gasoline being $8 per gallon forces 3-4 people to ride on taxi scooters (without helmets--or even hanging on)!




     Just like in suburban America, nearby poverty doesn't stop materialistic homebuyers from wanting McMansions, which are walled/separated from the rest of the world.  In DR, expensive homes abut filth, empty lots, foreclosed homes, and even a prison!  It looks like the boroughs of NYC.  We never understand why homeowners erect such expensive things amidst squalor; it might be better to live elsewhere.







     Some businesses thrive in the vacant lots: unregistered sex workers and bankruptcy lawyers.  




Despite all that, it's wondrous how locals keep so upbeat.  A cheery fellow sold us freshly-picked coconuts, and he used a machete to cut them open.




     Everywhere, the people were generally quite smiley to us, and a simple "Hola!" got us gracious (unforced) grins and waves.  In reciprocation, we are good tippers, too.  We were especially happy to see the bright smile of our preferred bartender, that afternoon!  



     Our selection for dinner, that night, involved true Dominican food: tripe, steamed yuca, fried plantains, sweet plantains, grouper, chicken on-the-bone, paella, fish fritters, carved pork leg, and varied sweets.  All acompanied by uptempo Latin beats!






     A young man with curly locks made sure everyone got cups of Mama-Juana: a classic Dominican concoction of rum and red wine marinated with cinnamon, herbs, medicinal twigs and roots, and tree bark.  The hotel's homemade mamajuana was very good!


A woman adorned in native garb served Dominican coffee, a muddy concoction similar to Turkish coffee.  



Brewed over hot rocks, it'd make my cultured baristas in Astoria cringe and shudder.  I did, too.  No wonder they drink it laden with sugar and condensed milk, like Cubans.  How could a place that makes such great cocoa make such lousy coffee?  It did keep us energized to use the gym, that night.



That night, we saw the first gay-friendly television commercial by Coca Cola!  Contrary to its other long-lasting ads, if this one ever plays on American TV, I'm sure it won't last long.  (Despite pretending to be a "Land of the Free", America retains huge phobias and discriminations).  Nevertheless, it's an amusingly cute commercial about siblings ogling the pool boy, racing to offer him a cool drink, only to be outwitted by their mom.





     On the topic of arousal, I will mention that prostitution is legal in DR.  Brothels are banned, so sex workers scour for clients at the resorts.  Lewis and I noticed young men with nice physiques getting cozy with older women by the pools.  





Despite perceived homophobia, we observed gay tourists "advertising" their openness for sex workers.



Most "professionals" did not discriminate on gender.  "Money talks and nobody walks".



Languid conversations ensued, and sometimes the pairs disappeared together.  Obviously, I do not have photographs of that.  As a vacation spot, it's a Pleasure Island.






     The next morning, we simply soaked up the sunshine and enjoyed the amenities of our resort!




















We spent the afternoon at the Spa!



In lieu of their steam room, we opted for an ensuing soak in a private whirlpool.  At dusk, a cute cat approached and meowed at us.  Lewis gave it tender petting, and it purred.  They clicked--as cats usually do with us--and the kitty followed Lewis all the way to the Spa's exit!  Awe!








     As the sun disappeared, the island's nightlife appeared.






     We spent two days like that!  Before we knew it, evening arrived on our last day in DR.  Watching the sunset, we soared homeward... just in time for our next jaunt.  Read about it next: Halloween in Boystown!