So this is what it's all about... (Caribbean edition)

So, what do you think happens to a person who spends a lifetime pooh-poohing all-inclusive package tours and the people who take them? I'll give you one hint: I, along with my friends Ivon and Frans, just got back from 6 days in Punta Cana.  This is a part of the Dominican Republic known for nothing but all-inclusive resorts. I'm not exaggerating. For real, try googling hostels and Punta Cana. You know what you get: nada. This area is not meant for the likes of my ilk.  It is the capital of All-inclusive-package-Landia

Yet, here I was with an opportunity to fly there for nearly nothing and a slew of days of at my disposal. I decided it would be a test of my ability to sit still and "relax" (urgh!) without a plan, guidebook or agenda at hand. To emphasize this point, I was forced to relinquish control almost immediately when, 18 hours before departure (the time when I realized this was going to happen), I was struggling to find a single reasonably priced resort. I valiantly fought the urge to send us on a nicely structured week-long tour of the Dominican Republic instead and went to hotwire.com to participate in some blind bidding. For anyone not familiar with this, it is sort of like the Priceline bidding process, in that you commit to buy without knowing what property you will be booked into, difference being that you go in agreeing on a price set by Hotwire. With maybe 12 hours to go, I accepted a price of $71 per night (incl. taxes) and learned that we would be staying at the Barcelo Dominican Beach Resort. The relentless planner in me went to Trip Advisor to see what others had to say. The phrase "worst vacation ever" came up with alarming frequency. Then, I checked the weather. Every day featured a picture of a cranky-looking rain cloud. At this point, my inner planner went to sleep.

Upon arrival, I could not help but notice that the property was, contrary to reports proclaiming otherwise, not falling apart. As a matter of fact, it was really nice. It was open, airy, clean and with a restaurant and/or bar always within easy reach. Even the pool had a swim-up bar which, once we vanquished the knowledge that this was only destined to result in a much higher urine to pool water ratio, became a major hangout for us.


A few steps beyond the pool-bar pool (as opposed to the other pool that had no bar and that we had no use for) was a nice stretch of white sand beach. Here, too, there were a couple of bars, stands that served pizza and burgers throughout the day and a dj who really, really liked the El Simbolo songUn, Dos, Tres.


It was clear that this was not going to suck. My friends, who are amongst the funnest and most easy-going travel companions a person could hope for, took to the scene immediately and contentedly sipped on tropical rum drinks. I did, too, but it was taking a lot for me to not circle the tour desk like a ravenous shark coming off of a Jenny Craig bender. Sure, I had gotten my hands on a list of excursions before the desk even opened. And once it did, I had cajoled my friends into listening to the concierge prattle about all the tours he thought we should go on. But I had made it past lunchtime without booking anything.

In another Herculean display of self-restraint, I made it all the way til at least 3-ish before I ventured off the property. It was accidental, but a stroll on the beach led me to a small souvenir market and further down the dirt road, a local bar. Somewhere between the two, I encountered a force greater than my own. I found a guy selling the same excursions the resort sold but at half the price. The trip to Saona Island, that I had considered at $135 in the hotel, was suddenly priced at $65.




And this is why, my normal, non-manic friends found themselves having to wake up at 6:00am on only their second vacation day. First, there was to be a two-hour drive to the Caribbean side of the island with a quick stop in Higuey for photo ops and souvenirs.

The Higuey Basilica is home to the Virgin of Altagracia, DR's patron saint.

This was followed by a stop in the fishing village of Bayahibe, where we would board a catamaran to the island of Saona. Island time being island time, we lingered in the fishing village for awhile waiting on the rest of the group. We passed the time by hanging out in hammocks, drinking Presidentes. It was, dare I say, relaxing...


When the last of the vans had arrived, our guide Jose briefed us on the importance of not getting onto the wrong catamaran. He explained in English that he would always call for "Jose family" and because of the large number of tour groups, this should be the only time we board a boat.  He repeated the entire explanation in Spanish. Then he went on in Italian about the importance of keeping his group together. Next he got to the Russians. Here I present to you the entirety of his briefing: "Ruskies. You. Jose family. Okay."

The catamaran took us along the island's eastern end, all of which is part of the aptly-named Eastern National Park and is thus protected. All the while, the predicted clouds stayed far away and the rum drinks kept pouring.




The island we were heading to was "discovered" by Christopher Columbus in 1494 and named after his hometown of Savona (the "v" has since been swallowed up by history). None of this really matters since when we eventually landed, our attention was drawn to the tropical buffet lunch that awaited...and of course, more rum drinks and more dancing.


It was somewhere between this beach party and the visit to a nearby sandbar (spoiler alert: there was rum and dancing there, too), that I started to actually understand what draws people to these kinds of vacations. There is a creeping disconnect that seeps in when no decisions greater than what swimsuit to wear and which resort restaurant to dine in need to be made. I gradually became more comfortable with the idea of waking up without an idea of what we were going to do with our day. Miraculously enough, things always found a way of working themselves out. We rented speedboats, took out the hotel's complimentary cataran a couple of times and my friends went parasailing while I acted as their very wet photographer. I actually had to run to the room to get my camera for that particular adventure. I was so out of my usual travel mode, that I began leaving it untouched in the room safe, resulting in me coming home with only 80 pictures total- I normally average 100 a day when traveling, to have 80 in six days would have been previously unimaginable. I got a tan, learned the 1,2,3 dance and spent more time in the water (both the ocean and pee-filled pool) than I had in ages, this considering I live walking distance from one of the top beaches in the country. Could I do this on every vacation? Hell, no. For starters, I think my liver would quit on me. But, did I have an excellent time with wonderful friends and am I still feeling this odd relaxed vibe that makes me want to go out and enjoy the sunshine? Well, yes, I did and as a matter of fact...yes, I am.

Comments

  1. Glad you enjoyed an all inclusive vacation. The DR is always loads of fun. People are still very friendly and unspoiled.

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