¡Hola Minnesota!

It was a mistake to dress for our sub-zero destination on Saturday morning.  After our short ride in the pleasant, air conditioned bus at the airport, it was fixing to be a damn hot day in Punta Cana. The airport was jam packed with travelers to every airport in the Caribbean, the US, Canada and Europe. By the time we got checked in, we were sweaty and hot, though not quite as sweaty and hot as we were after waiting in line at Wendy’s for a pricey hamburger lunch. If only we had worn our shorts and packed our long pants!

Every seat in the airport was occupied, it seemed. We waited and waited, feeling a little dismayed as we realized that the airport simply did not seem to have the capacity to manage the volume of traffic and number of passengers. Planes arriving waited 10-20-30 minutes for a parking spot. We walked outside to the plane – perhaps 100 yards – and then had to wait at the stairs of the aircraft as passports were checked once again before boarding. The sun beat down on us, bright and hot, burning through my shirt to my red back and activating itch in the dozens of mosquito bites on my body.

On the plane at last! Not one first class seat was occupied and I was ready to plunk down the premium $$ for the extra space, leg room and service. There was no point in trying to persuade Bob that would not be a waste of money, so on we trudged to the middle of the plane. It was hot in there too, as we stuffed ourselves into our seats (A-B-C-D). Unfortunately, it seems that only one, instead of three, air traffic controllers was on duty and departures were running an hour behind. And that’s about what ours was, such that we got home at 6:30 p.m. or so, well over an hour after our scheduled arrival time.

When we finally stepped out of the cab, the temperature was cold but not frigid. The snow sparkled under the yard light and it felt good to be home.  As I write this last blog entry later Sunday afternoon, the rest of our group may already have left Dreams Palm Beach. AC1855 is scheduled to depart Punta Cana at 10:00 p.m. local time, for an arrival in Toronto at 1:40 a.m. Monday morning. I’m looking forward to exchanging emails and pics!

Adios!

Destination Wedding!

We watched some of the professional picture taking from our balcony, and I wondered how the ladies in the wedding party were navigating the slippery tiles and, even worse, the sand on the beach.  It seems that my concerns were groundless, however, as no one so much as chipped one of their perfectly manicured nails.

The 40 chairs at the wedding gazebo were almost filled by 5:15, so we took our places in the assembly.  An older couple looked unfamiliar; turns out they were wedding crashers who later disappeared into the general resort population. Harry seated Marilyn and then stood by the gazebo waiting for the rest of the wedding party.  Unlike the familiar wedding setting, where an anxious groom is supported by his groomsmen, Harry was all alone in front of the crowd, communicating silently but effectively with the guests.  After five minutes or so, Harry glanced in the general direction of the hotel lobby where the bridal party had convened. When there was no sign of movement, he grimaced, drawing his hand across his throat, much to the amusement of the crowd. No danger of a no show, we all figured.

Not long after, we glimpsed the first of the attendants, processing as couples along the path between the palms toward the wedding gazebo. The bridesmaids wore short burgundy gowns, beautifully simple and elegant. All the groomsmen wore white shirts that looked both casual and “dressed up”. Finally, the bride appeared on the arm of her proud uncle. Most brides are beautiful, but Laura was absolutely stunning, dressed in a classic cream gown, with no veil or train to draw attention from her loveliness and joy.

They must have picked the judge for his good looks, not a bad idea because he will be in everyone’s wedding photo. I loved the fact that he conducted wedding in Spanish, reminding us that Spanish is “the official language of the Dominican Republic”. The judge’s words were translated for Harry and Laura, so I guess it was OK for them to speak their vows in English.

We gathered for drinks and appetizers, with entertainment provided by a lively three-man band. We then headed into a private room in the conference center for the wedding dinner.  The meal, steak and lobster for most of us, was beautifully presented and served by professional, attentive hotel staff. Laura’s siblings, Diana and Michael, with a great job with MC responsibilities.  I enjoyed the toasts from both sides of the family and the bride and groom’s closest friends. Interesting to know that Harry and Laura first met in 6^th grade, and have been together since a blind date in high school, set up by two members of the bridal party.

Marilyn’s good Stratford friends (Dave, Brenda and Doug) were our very pleasant dinner companions. Our conversation covered many topics, including the McIntosh apple – which I thought must be too much of a “cold weather apple” for southern Ontario. Not so according to Doug. In fact, I couldn't wait to look up the history of the McIntosh – here’s one version http://canadianhistory.suite101.com/article.cfm/mcintosh_apple_a_tasty_canadian_development

Harry has married into a distinguished and delightful family and I’ll enjoy getting to know them.  At least one of the Nguyens may be easy to track: Michael will soon be heading to Los Angeles to intern with “24”. Not being much of a TV fan, I just barely heard of the show http://www.fox.com/24/ -- but I’ll be watching it from now on. I think we’ll be hearing from Michael in the future: this is one of the many hits from a Google search http://gnugget.wordpress.com/2009/11/18/g-nugget-is-going-to-la/.

I felt very proud of Marilyn, happy and gracious and elegant; I can’t bear to describe how I missed Ken, his friendly smile, exuberance and comforting presence. How he would have loved this satisfying, happy day!

Congratulations, Laura and Harry! Thanks for sharing your wedding day with us. You’re a great couple and we await the next chapter in your story.

Wedding Day

The day dawned cloudy and windy, but as I write this shortly after noon the sky has cleared. Chris and Becky are at the pool already and we’ll head down there in a few minutes. I bought some postcards at the gift shop for my scrapbook. Charging up the battery for the pictures I’ll be taking later in the day.

The wedding is at 5:30 in the gazebo a few steps from our building.

Groom's Dinner

We all had dinner together in the World Café on Thursday evening. All except Mark, that is. He didn’t get back from his Santo Domingo junket (3-1/2 hours by bus, each way) until well after we had finished our meal. No time for a debrief yet.

For me, it was fun to reconnect with Kate Marshall who sat at our table. She and Becky remind me a little of each other, and I was happy for them to have the opportunity to visit. After dinner, we sat at the lobby bar and talked. Early to bed again.

Parasail Adventure

No, not mine. Chris and Becky went parasailing in the early afternoon, as storm clouds gathered on the horizon. They were driven out to the big boat by a kid Becky described as a “9-year-old”; the boy laughed at Becky’s very realistic fear of being thrown out of the boat. Soon I was filming … the wrong couple. Finally, it was their turn.

The experience seems to have been a once-in-a-lifetime experience. The safety precautions were perhaps less than they should have been, and Chris found himself looking at the quality of the knot holding the ropes as well as the proximity of propellers. Fortunately, the experience ended well.

The rain fell for much of the rest of the afternoon and early evening.

Flea Market Field Trip

Bob and I are not shoppers. Our limited skills get us through Christmas and birthdays, mostly with gift cards. Still, I did want to walk to the flea market, if only to get a few photos. Off we went after breakfast, past the street entrance to the hotel and through the gate manned by a security guard. We could see a couple of buildings a few hundred yards away so we were quite sure that we couldn’t miss our destination. On our right, the jungle extended as far as we could see. Being a little afraid of “crawlers”, we walked in the street rather than on the path.

We were greeted by a vendor at the entrance to a narrow corridor flanked by shacks. The wares on sale might have included items of interest to us, but probably not. It was hard to imagine anyone transporting the large canvasses of African inspired art that filled nearly every concession. We were accosted by aggressive men as we walked between the shops. I am a timid shopper even in the low pressure Twin Cities, so the experience might have been somewhat frightening to me if I had gone alone.

The sun beat down on us and we choked on the dust – sea sand mixed with dirt -- in the air. “Abject poverty” is the phrase that came to mind. I got only a couple of pictures before we hightailed it out of there, back along the hot road, past the entrance to the Oasis resort, ending at our resort. It is a short walk but it left us depleted of fluids. Despite the winds, the beach seemed inviting.

Welcome Winds and Overcast Skies

The morning began with the usual cloudless sky and we spent our time in the style of the 18^th Century Salon, without any literary or philosophical pretension. I was trying to stay out of the sun so we hung out in the vicinity of the lobby, where we eventually visited with many in our party. We had lunch for the first time in the World Café, where the variety of fruits and vegetables gave us a meal a cut above the hamburgers on the beach we ate on previous days.

By afternoon, the wind had driven many vacationers from the beach. We had no trouble finding beach chairs and watched the parasailors, windsurfers and a few sailors. Most boats remained anchored in the little harbor in front of the Grand Oasis resort up the beach.  We found out later that Harry and Laura had been among the parasailors, so I hope one of my pictures is of the two of them.  By 3 o’clock, the sky was cloudy and I figured I could expose my sunburn, so I spent the rest of the afternoon in the pool. The usual suspects at the swim-up bar were liquored up by then and were starting up a water polo match that never gained much momentum, but the wildly thrown ball made me retreat to the far end of the pool, where I chatted with Bob and, later, Becky and Chris, until we went inside.

The Manager’s Cocktail Party at 6:30 was fun and interesting. We were served drinks and canapés and entertained by the excellent keyboardist and female vocalist. By the time darkness fell, Becky and Chris and joined us, and we headed into the Portofino for an Italian dinner. The restaurant seemed understaffed and our wine glasses were empty for much of the meal – uncommon in this place, where one usually has to watch the glass to make sure it isn’t filled too often! The meals were mediocre, I think, though Chris’ lasagna was, once again, an excellent choice.

We stopped to listen to the music near the wedding gazebo and it was fun to see the performers in the evening show cruise through, all dressed in brightly colored Mardi Gras costumes, including a very tall stilt walker. I read in bed for awhile while Bob sat outdoors on the deck.  The clouds saved my skin yesterday; today has dawned very sunny so I’m sure I’ll have to be careful later on.

Burned and Burned out in Paradise

Another toasty day in the sun, on the beach and in the pool. There are limits to the powers of 50 waterproof SPF sunscreen, as I suspected when I was a little red after the first couple of days. By late in the afternoon, just as the sun was becoming more tolerable, I knew that I would be paying, once again, the price for Celtic skin. I had scorned the lotion with the medicinal fragrance supplied with our toiletries but I was very grateful for it last night.

I did love the day, though. Marilyn and I revisited the summers of our childhood, when we spent  hours in the water, swimming and playing.  My favorite pool is the one with the swim-up bar, because it has a little shade throughout the day and is only a few steps from the beach. While I’ve had my share of alcoholic libations, I’m happy that bottled water is readily available everywhere – it’s very necessary in this heat.

We had dinner at the Japanese restaurant, at a table for 12 around a very hot grill. Ricardo is a very flamboyant grillmaster and it was fun to watch him, especially when he shared the grill with assistant chefs picked from our dinner companions, including Chris. We met a family of four from Montreal, so it was fun for me to speak French again, especially with these friendly people. Bob did a little shopping for cigars at the stalls set up for the evening.

Today promises to be another hot one. I’m going to try to stay out of the sun!

Deluxe Tropical View

Our rooms are in the “deluxe tropical view” class and, on our first day, Becky did her best to get us an upgrade to “preferred club”. In the end, we decided our original room assignments are fine.  I was a little wistful that we don’t face the ocean but we spend so much of our day at the beach that it’s lovely to be in this cool, shady room at the end of the day. We are directly above one of the pools, with a bank of palm trees protecting us from the sun and intrusive stares. The tile floor is very cool on my warm feet and at night,we sleep well and soundly.  Bob and I just shared a Diet Coke from the mini-bar. He’s outside on the deck doing a little people-watching.

We have a very real sense of being in the tropics. The day we arrived, I felt as though I must re-read the famous E.M. Forster novel, “A Passage to India”. There is really no resemblance to the colonial unease in that novel, but the whole place has that somewhat dank smell that follows a rainfall in the jungle. I learned that there had been three hours of torrential rain the week before we arrived. We ourselves experienced a little light rain on Saturday and quite a downpour last night. I feel that the entire resort would revert to a lush jungle if left alone for a couple of years. I will have to read more Dominican Republic history when I get home. I am only vaguely aware of the dictatorship of Rafael Trujillo, who was assassinated in 1961.

Once again, we spent most of our day visiting and not doing much of anything else, except move lazily from pool to beach, enjoying the libations in the swim-up bar. We’re going to give the Japanese restaurant a try again this evening, with better luck, I hope.

French Cuisine

We had dinner at the Bordeaux yesterday evening, the French restaurant recommended by many online reviewers. It was our second choice, after being told we'd have to wait 90 minutes for a table at the Japanese restaurant. We were not disappointed by our meal, beautifully presented and served with elegance.

Becky and I had a green salad and a grilled chicken dish, Chris had beef and Bob ordered the grouper recommended by our server. Nice little details like a mimosa apéritif and a “surprise” – a small shot of Baileys after the meal. Bob and Chris both ordered the crème brulée but the waiter insisted on serving it to all of us. With that delicious temptation plopped in front of me, I enjoyed all but a symbolic last bite.

After dinner, we met the entire wedding party emerging from the Italian restaurant next door, the Portofino, and by chance, I had my camera with me.

Dolce Far Niente

I’ve never been a great fan of doing nothing. In fact, my values and self-worth are inextricably tied with a full complement of tasks to accomplish and the finished to-do list. Today, I simply spent the entire day doing absolutely nothing. Oddly, I felt no guilt and simply enjoyed myself.

We had the great pleasure of meeting several members of Laura’s family today, and I’m looking forward to a great week of getting to know them. I enjoyed the pool and the ocean today. The sun was hot and bright late in the morning and at the beginning of the afternoon. I was happy to see the clouds move  – better for the fair skinned among us.

I took a few pictures. I like these two: the first is of Laura and Amber, one of her bridesmaids. In the second, Harry and Marilyn are with Bob, Chris and Becky.

Sunrise Punta Cana

I had been wondering what time it might be when I was roused by a promised knock on the door at 6:45 a.m. Unbelievably, I had slept in.

Chris and Becky went ahead to the beach to watch the sunrise. By the time I had found my clothes and thrown them on, Chris and Beck had been driven away by the ubiquitous mosquitoes. I’m glad I stayed.

Mosquito Zone

This week will go into the memory bank as one of my top mosquito vacations, along with my first summer in Minnesota, when we were camping in Willmar. I came away from that weekend with a fever and a swollen face, and thought I had developed encephalitis. Since then, mosquito control has improved so much in Minnesota that I’m bitten only a few times in an entire summer. In only two days in Punta Cana, I’ve been bitten from head to toe, especially my arms and legs. I’m covered with welts, many the size of a quarter; others have turned into bruises.

The only mosquito free zone seems to be in the water.

A Walk on the Beach at Sunset

We had a free hour before dinner so I headed out with my camera to walk on the beach. The sand is soft on the feet, but it packs well so walking is easy. By the time I got past the nature preserve, an area I hope to explore later in the week, the sun was setting rapidly and a security guard for the preserve stopped me to warn that the beach in that area is very dangerous after dark. I quickly turned around and headed back, hoping to beat the rapidly encroaching darkness. When I had walked a few hundred feet, I turned around to take a photo and, out of nowhere, a wild horse appeared and ran down the beach, toward the point I had been approaching earlier. It was one of those magic moments.

By the time I got back to the resort, the palms all looked the same and I wasn’t quite sure where to turn away from the beach. Another security guard pointed me in the right direction. Bob, Chris, Becky and I had dinner at the Seaside Grill, where the menu and the presentation of various dishes looked more appetizing that they tasted. The exception was Chris’ medallions of beef, Caribbean style.

We’re looking forward to the arrival of the Toronto party later tonight. I am very tired, so I won’t be greeting them this evening after they arrive at the hotel. We’ll have plenty of time to visit tomorrow.

Poolside Afternoon

By noon we were in the beautiful pool a few feet from the entrance of our building. The swim-up bar is very tempting, but most of my drinks this afternoon were bottled water. Some of the more athletic guests played an aggressive game of water polo.

Bob and I had a pretty good burger on the beach. Chris, Becky and I took a dip in the ocean and then headed back to the pool, while Bob unsuccessfully sought a TV broadcasting the Vikings game. By later afternoon, I was feeling both chilled from the cool water and a little over-exposed to the sun, so I headed indoors. Looking forward to seeing the Toronto contingent, including the wedding couple, either later this evening or early tomorrow morning.

When we go out for dinner this evening, I’ll make sure I have the mosquito repellent sprayed on under my long pants.

Demos gracias a Dios

After breakfast we went to a short presentation by Apple Vacations on the hotel property and available excursions this week.  We showed up for Mass outside one of the restaurants but were soon escorted to a small private room in the conference center. The handsome young priest knew no English so Mass was entirely in Spanish, with an approximate translation of the gospel and homily provided by one of his female acolytes. The music was a cappella, deceptive description, since nothing was even remotely recognizable as a tune and the musical gifts were not much in evidence,

We were perhaps 30 in number, not one Spanish speaker among us, and yet we were all perfectly at home in this faraway venue, going through the familiar ritual together, praying the parts of the Mass in our own language. I kicked myself for not bringing the Spanish text with me. I know some prayers, like the Our Father, but I’m too slow to recite them without the words in front of me.  The final song was one that I could manage, however. “Demos gracias a Dios” had a catchy snippet of a tune and the words were easy and familiar.

Dreams Palm Beach

I downed the bright orange welcome cocktail as we were checking in, and soon we were in our large, tiled rooms. Ours faces one of the pool areas. The dire warnings I had read in traveler reviews did not materialize and we find the accommodations perfectly acceptable. Chris, Becky and I walked over to the beach almost immediately. It wasn’t too crowded and vacationers were enjoying the boats, snorkeling and wading in the water. Later in the afternoon, we joined Bob for a drink outside the lobby. Staff are always hovering with a bottle of wine and will bring whatever beverage you wish, at any time of day, or so it seems. Both the red and white wines I had reminded me of the Spanish and Portuguese table wines I enjoyed so much on our trip several years ago, nothing remarkable but fine with food.

The mosquitoes attacked Becky and me while we were standing in line waiting for a table at the seaside grill, so we ate inside – as much as anything is really “inside” – instead at the buffet. We were all ravenous and the food was just fine for our first evening. We ended the evening with a swim and hot tub at the only open pool area. Bob and I hit our bed early and had a great night’s sleep on our very comfortable king bed. I’m sitting at the little glass table overlooking the pool, watching a maintenance worker wearing a mask, cleaning the pool with some kind of rake. Now, if only we could get some sun. I’m perfectly happy with the overcast skies, but the others would prefer some solar energy.

Sun Country 745 to Punta Cana

Our flight to Punta Cana left two hours late because “maintenance problems” had delayed the arrival of a red-eye from San Francisco. Fortunately, I found out about the delay the night before when I routinely checked our flight before going to bed. The temperature was 15-below when we left for the airport at 6 a.m. – fine for Bob, Becky and me, not so good for Chris dressed in shorts and things! Our fellow passengers were already in the boarding area so our check-in was easy and fast, except for Bob, who will no longer travel as “Robert”, but rather under the name on his passport: Harold Robert. Airlines are now sticklers for the passport name; too bad the vigilance doesn’t extend to some other areas!

We were in the second-to-last row of the plane and had the middle seats free. We flew to the east coast and turned right around Washington, DC, for the hop over the Bahamas, Turks & Caicos and, finally, to Hispaniola, the island shared by Haiti and the Dominican Republic. My first impression was of very green, lush jungle, with a few rivers and primitive looking roads traversing the island, bounded by the turquoise Atlantic Ocean and Caribbean sea. I wonder what Columbus thought when he saw this land in 1492?

At the end of the flight, I moved to the last row, also vacant. After a pleasant and uneventful flight, we experienced a short delay waiting for a gate. We were greeted at the airport by women in colorful native dress, taking tourist photos and ushering us through a long line where we dropped $10 a head for the required tourist card, promptly returned to the immigration authorities when our passports were stamped a few minutes later. The Punta Cana airport is a lovely, open air facility with plenty of activity – rather too much for my taste. Music echoed throughout, rather grating to my ears, and I wondered if it was “merengue”. I should know this, but do not.

The ride to the resort was short. Our modern bus had only a few passengers, all Minnesotans looking a little shell shocked after the long day. The poverty I had expected along the route was not very much in evidence, as I think the area is rather prosperous by Dominican standards, and unpleasant sights are somewhat hidden from tourists on the way to posh hotels.

La veille du voyage

A beautiful but frigid New Year's Day. This time tomorrow we'll be enjoying the warmth of the Caribbean. Our flight leaves at 6:15 a.m. -- I wonder if I'll sleep at all tonight? This afternoon, I washed the kitchen floor and started packing. Hope I'll have room for my snorkeling gear!

Punta Cana Prelude

I write this on the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend. I'm listening to Christmas music and systematically loading music on my new iPod, enjoying the late fall sunshine lighting the dining room. In a few minutes, we'll head out into unseasonably warm 51-degree weather to run holiday errands. This time next month, we'll be preparing for our trip to Laura and Harry's wedding in Punta Cana . This will be our first stay at an all-inclusive resort, Dreams Palm Beach.