Not all is paradisiacal in paradise--one week in the Dominican Republic

Sunset at the H10 El Faro close to Punta Cana

All-inclusive resorts are supposed to be places where everyday worries and stresses are left at the front door and everything is supposed to be perfect, or pretty close to that. That has been true in the vast majority of the resorts that I have visited over the years. Sure, the occasional snafu will happen, but overall you paid your entry fee for a week in paradise.

I booked my just-completed week in the H10 Ocean El Faro close to Punta Cana, DR, expecting another carefree vacation. Sure, when I had been in H10's other property in the DR, the Ocean Blue and Sand, a few years ago, I had experienced a few hiccups that placed that experience somewhat behind all those great vacations in Mexico. But the number of problems that I experienced at the El Faro put a new spin on "expectations not met."

It started out with my not not being included in the reservations system when I arrived last Monday evening, meaning that I had to wait for several hours until my room was finally ready. It continued with shoddy housekeeping and minibar service, lack of promised amenities, and several power outages in my room, the last of which lasted for more than three hours and almost necessitated a late-night switch to another room. While some of the food was rather tasty and well-prepared as I had come to expect, other items were so-so or not available despite being on the year-round menu of the specialty restaurants. Having lunch and dinner in the outside dining areas took a struggle with the waitstaff as they seemed too lazy to leave the restaurants' inside areas. And while some of the staff were genuinely friendly, most of them displayed an attitude that made me feel unwelcome and like an interruption to their cell-phone perusal.

First World problems, maybe, ... but even one of the few good staff members, Jean, thought this bar countertop was "disgusting"

The bartenders at the various bars were surly, even though there were few guests to serve--the occupancy rate at this time of the year was really low. But low occupancy should not be an excuse for lack of beach or pool-side drink service, even though that is one of those perks that H10 uses in its advertising. Sure, all those are First World problems, but when you pay for a vacation that is supposed to deliver a certain level of comfort and luxury, non-delivery will not leave a smile on your face.

Enough about all that. I tried to make the best of my time at El Faro but will probably not return to the DR for another AI vacation with H10.

The last four are panorama shots--please click on the photos

As I usually do, I had brought along a bike to escape the compound, as I lovingly call the artificial habitat for us tourists. Other than the resorts on the Riviera Maya, the Ocean El Faro is located in an area that makes it possible to go for a variety of different rides, and I managed to ride on five days for a total of 165 miles. (On my second day at the resort it was raining as hard as it can only pour in tropical regions, and I spent much of the day on my porch, watching the buckets of rain and the lightning strikes all around us. Actually, that was a lot of fun, especially since the minibar was still stocked to a certain degree!)

I had brought the Ritchey Outback, my gravel bike. That was definitely the right choice since I rode many miles on non-asphalted trails, and much worse. Thanks to the rain it was not only extremely muggy with temps in the upper 80s, but there were puddles galore on those rough paths and trails. Once away from the tourist areas it becomes clear how poor the DR is. The truly sobering part is that in comparison to Haiti, which shares the western part of Hispaniola with the Republic, the DR is considered extremely rich. One number I found for 2017 listed average annual income for Haiti at $1,800, while in the DR it was $17,000! (The same source, IndexMundi, listed the USA at $59,500 for 2017.)

I am sure that I rode by a lot of places where people were subsisting on much less than $17,000. Once off the asphalted road, grid electricity lines are not always a given, and houses are more like wooden huts with shutters but no glass windows. Laundry hangs on fences, chickens and pigs roam freely, and curious kids will stare at you. Cars are rare, but everybody seems to have a small motorcycle (moped) that is used to transport people and goods. It is amazing what Dominicans are able to load on a motorcycle: a family of four, a large propane gas tank, towering bundles of whatever can be bundled. On one ride I saw a passenger holding a tall tree that he had somehow positioned between himself and the driver, and another "record" must have been a medium sized refrigerator--no, nothing dormsized.

Just like when I worked the Vuelta Independencia Nacional República Dominicana back in 2015, watching traffic was a special treat. I rode through several small towns where trucks, cars, and motorcycles mingled, and nothing has changed in the past four years: It's all still a free-for-all that is accompanied by much honking and general lawlessness. You may want to reread my blogpost here.

My excursions into the real DR were what I had hoped for: a glimpse into another people's everyday life. The picture that emerges is not always a pretty one; on the contrary, it can be depressing at times. But being able to see things from a bike provides immediacy and authenticity to the picture, and that's what traveling is about. Being in an AI is nothing but blatant tourism, but at least I try to find another perspective. So from that point of view, this trip was a success, even if this success was mostly limited to my time on the Ritchey, I am sorry to say. 

I am sure some of you who have read this blogpost to this point may think of me as a spoiled gringo who is whining about things that one shouldn't whine about. If you know me at all, you know I don't have a very strong sense of entitlement. It's more a sense of fairness that drives me (maybe that's why enjoy the officiating as well as the DCO work), and on this trip the scales were tipping heavily toward the corporation and not the consumer. So, come back in a week or two and see what my impressions of Taiwan are going to be.

Let's end on a happy note: Upon flying home from Punta Cana I got a chance to check out the new PUJ airport lounge that features a small infinity pool. OK, so maybe I'll come back some day and make sure that I have a swimsuit in my carry-on!

Apres ride ...

Taiwan, here I come (after a quickie to the Toronto area in less than a week).

PUJ airport lounge with infinity pool overlooking the tarmac. Sweet!

Jürgen