Where to even begin. Part I of the Dominican Republic Saga

Yesterday we got home from the Dominican Republic trip we took with my mother. I've spent the last week trying to figure out just how I can possibly blog about this week. I'm still working on this, but have decided that it's too long a tale to be told in a single entry. This is a multipart story.

Theme 1 of the DR Saga: Arriving

Let's start with the fact that we had a 6 am flight to Miami out of Dulles. Dulles is a complicated airport. It's complicated because it's old and under construction. It's complicated because it's near DC and it's all threat level conscious and all (not like National i.e. Reagan where Ricardo managed to take a pocket knife right on through security no questions asked. He's also gone through without any picture id as well. Nice airport security!). It's complicated because in order to get to the gates you have to take shuttle buses, which I affectionately think of as "pods."

Because we were flying internationally, we couldn't do the self check in and instead had to wait in line. The thing about flying to Miami, is that it's the capital of Latin America. So the line, at 4:30am is long and full of Latins. More impressively it's full of their luggage. Piles and piles of suitcases, crammed to capacity, two to five per person spilled out of the lines as families who had shopped for days probably prepared to return to their home countries. We waited and waited and waited. Finally at 5:15 am they started to let us through the line so we could make the flight. At 5:30 we were still not through security. At 5:45 we pulled up at the gates on the pod and literally made a run for the flight. We were the second to last people on the plane. But we made it.

Maybe we should have taken that as a sign though. Maybe this was not a trip that was meant to be. But since we made it, we went.

Upon arriving in the DR we were greeted by a driver and brought to the Lifestyle Hacienda Resort and Spa. We had been told we were getting a two bedroom suite for the first couple nights. But...no! They did not have that. So we got two one bedroom suites. Fine.

We went to the pool, where we were immediately accosted by the first level shill sent to rope us into the sales pitch for the timeshare. When would we come for breakfast? He'd meet us there with our free gifts! Oh goody free gifts!

For dinner that night, because we couldn't get reservations at any of the restaurants in the resort, we went to the buffet. We'd dressed nicely but as it turns out the place was open air, no a/c. This is fine but it was hot and humid and the mosquitoes were out full force. But they had Dominican food and Ricardo and I were thrilled. We ate plantains and they had roast pig (chancho). This was going to be great! We headed back to the suites, climbed the three flights of stairs to get there. The air conditioning was on and we were tired. We all searched for the softest of the cement like pillows and then went to sleep. And thus endeth the first day.

By the next morning the vacation took its first turn. That morning we were accosted both by difficult bowels and by Alex of the timeshare shill. As it happens he didn't have our free gifts with him. Shock! Would we mind accompanying him to the office to get them? It would only take a minute or two and we'd be off to the beach. Hmmmm. It's getting fishy!

The gift turned out to be a bottle full of roots and twigs and leaves with a label on it calling it Mamajuana. It was a Dominican "vitality" elixir if filled 1/3 of the way with honey, 1/3 of the way with red wine and 1/3 of the way with brandy. Sure to beat viagra at its game. Guarunteed to clear up any ache and pain. Perfect for "el estress."

But the real "gift" as it were was the sales pitch, delivered by someone else in the scalding heat and humidty of the morning. When it became clear that we were not going to give them $85,000 so that we could pay 1200 a week to stay in their resort, they allowed us to leave, calling the "guagua" so we could head to the beach.

Once there, we continued to get accosted by everyone about buying there. I started to pretend I didn't speak Spanish or English or German or French (actually it's not hard with th German now since I wasn't very good at it 19 years ago in college and haven't spoken it since then). This worked relatively well and provided a certain measure of calm.

The beach was not fabulous, the sand rocky and rough the waves too strong in one place. But once we learned to stay in front of the VIP beach, we enjoyed bobbing in the waves, and once we also figured out we could use the VIP beach, we took full advantage of their cool bubbling pools and the all you can drink piña coladas. The Kid was on a regular of 4 or 5 a day (virgin, of course!).

The VIP beach more than made up for the only so-so nature of the actual beach. Not only did it have a collection of bubbly hot tub like pools with cold water in them, a waterfall, and drink service, there were no chairs there. Instead they provided a series of beds. Queen sized platforms held thick soft matresses (better than the actual beds) with curtains around them and over them for shade. Some were swings, others double decker, still others low and some high. All of them had pillows and fresh towels on them. Talk about decadance there.

Day 1: Creepy sales pitch, but great beach. So far, a dream!

Tune in tomorrow for the metamorphasis of dream to nightmare as the saga continues with the tale of leaving the suites for the villas. There will be lies, deception, anger, and more!