MEDIA CENTRE - Off The Wall

Phil’s Travels – Samana, Dominican Republic (09.24)

Phil’s Travels – Samana, Dominican Republic (09.24)

I have been to DR a couple of times before, top left and bottom left. This was my first visit to top right and still have not been bottom right (Punta Cana) where the vast majority of tourist activity is centred. Go figure.

I left home before sun-up and caught one of the first Tube trains, direction Victoria. It had been a few years since I had to buy a ticket at ground level and discovered that there were no longer ticket machines at the Gatwick Express barriers. You either had to go ticketless (in which case no receipt for expenses claiming) or you had to walk all the way back to the general ticket counters and struggle with the generic machines or queue for a knowledgeable person. I tried the machines, but they wanted to charge me over £70, so I went to the only available counter so early in the morning. Their IT was down and the short queue moved along to a new window. Bottom line – I missed my train and had to wait 25 minutes on a chilly early morning platform for the next Express.

Gatwick was busy but flowing. Air Europa was clean and timeous. Madrid Airport was busy, slow, chaotic, lacking in food options and totally unsuited to large volumes of people in T1. A last minute gate change for the flight to DR did not help. The whole experience reminded me of Addis Ababa Airport.

The Air Europa Dreamliner was ok and no Boeing mishaps en route (nor back). The inflight entertainment was varied but you had to pay for headphones. Fortunately, my old fashioned, rounded, laptop-friendly headphones worked a treat and I enjoyed for free. Food was limited and water available for free. Biggest issue – I was in a middle seat, squished between two very substantial non-English speakers. All very cosy.

Santo Domingo Airport was a swift affair, despite being busy and home to, indeed, a whole flock of swooping, chirping swifts (or swallows or martins, I am no ornithologist). Outside it was hot and humid and we drove to the northeast before a gorgeously setting sun. My driver, the Mighty Monci, was a gem and did not allow his lack of English nor my lack of Spanish to hinder a very pleasant drive over the mountains. I retained full faith in the Mighty Monci even when we went off-road, in the dark of a pitch black night and up a steep mountain track that ended at a lovely hillside villa. My home for the next few days.

Next day, we walked around the hilltop site and explored its jungle covered slopes. Despite a very dangerous near miss (client with machete was hacking away just a few feet from a nasty looking wasps’ nest until said nest was spotted and then we were as quiet as mice and as gentle as cotton wool), we saw the key areas, angles and views. By the end of our site tour, I was soaked through with sweat. I could have wrung out a good couple of litres from my t-shirt and jeans alone.

After a quick change, we had lunch at Mr Mitterrand’s former chef’s hotel-restaurant down on the beach. After ordering, we swam in the ocean for a bit, swapping salty sweat for salty ocean waves. Lovely! And refreshing. Lunch was fabulous. Well done chef. That evening, I was invited to join the whole family (including the sharp-eyed Where’s Wally Meister) for dinner at Hotel Mosquito and true to its name I was eaten alive as I ate. One of these bites would have made Vesuvius appear small. It was huge, with white sides and a red tip. I still had a scare some 10 days later.

Over the coming days, we visited competitor hotels and inspected the local environs, including: Dominican Tree House Village (rustic hotel, with rooms in the jungle that have curtains for walls and only basic amenities); Hacienda Samana Bay (great views and vast rooftop pool/bar areas); Sublime Samana (tremendous potential and excellent location on Coson Beach); Amanera (my third Aman inspection, dramatic location overlooking Playa Grande and stunning rooms, most expensive churros on the planet).

We met with local stakeholders, visited Samana Airport and inspected a nearby state-of-the-art medical clinic. Lots of ground was covered in just a few days. And every night I returned to my palace in the sky. Although the villa had no AC, it did have fans in every room and on the terrace. Very colonial, very old school and perfectly lovely. Each evening the sunsets got better and better. Despite no human company each morning, I was never alone. My daily breakfast company comprised a sleek and shiny black cat (very friendly, to me anyway, as soon as anyone else showed up, he would hiss and disappear), an industrious blue bee (whose legs were always leaden with pollen each morning) and a tiny curious gekko (which seemed particularly keen on my morning kitchen activities).

As soon as the sun fell, bedlam would ensue. Without birds and other predators, the local insect population took to their musical instruments and danced the night away in a relentless cacophony of chirps and screeches. Then, as soon as the sun reappeared and the birds returned, my sky palace was the calmest, quietest place on Earth again. Fortunately, the night-time serenading was something I got used to (and missed when I got home).

Homeward journey began with a race against Boudica and her Tractor of Death (see photo above). Fortunately, Jesus was driving me and we made it to Santo Domingo Airport safe and sound. My passage through the airport was very un-Madrid like and my seat was by the window, so my large neighbours were only on one side of me this time (one even requiring an extension seatbelt). On the last leg, Madrid to London, I had the very last seat, 32F, and, please note BA, it had a window.

Overall Air Europa scored highly for me. Clean and on time. My only criticism would be their online check-in which was very confusing, calling for documents that were never checked or requested, and C19 requirements that led nowhere. All unnecessarily time consuming (over an hour to try to figure out), stressful and a waste of effort anyway.

As often happens, major events took place in my absence:

• TGI Fridays (UK restaurant chain), ISG (UK construction company) and Tupperware (US plastic company) went bust.
• Trump was nearly shot, again.
• A Frenchman confessed to facilitating over 80 rapes on the same woman, his wife!
• The proverbial hit a very big fan over Al Fayed.
• Liverpool lost to Nottingham Forest (no Reds shirt for my next trip, see Nottingham blog).

I had a great time in DR, thanks to a lovely and very helpful client, to the Mighty Monci (sorry I scratched your passenger door on the barbed wire) and, not least, to the Where’s Wally Meister’s patience with my failing eyesight. Adios and see you again soon.