La Guera Caballera

We have just returned from 6 restful days in Cabarete, in the Dominican Republic. Don't we look relaxed?

Despite a tropical storm that dumped rain on us for 2 days straight, with blustery winds that felled power lines and trees in town; rain showers which interrupted the sunshine nearly every day; and an unexpected night spent in the Best Western at San Juan International Airport (Hotel + Casino! Yes, let's lose some money, honey, before we take flight!) and um, what was I saying? Yes, DESPITE these pesky diversions, we had a very relaxing time in the expert hands of our hosts at the beautiful oasis that is Natura Cabanas, our "eco-sensitive beachfront boutique hotel and spa." Of the eleven cabanas, only three, maximum, were occupied at any given time during our stay. We were in fact the only guests for most of the week. Even the beach was sparsely populated; it was us, various and sundry ex-pats who retired to condos a few paces down the road, and a trickle of intrepid tourists from the all-inclusive resort several coves over. But usually it was just us and the sand crabs. We began to feel we were on a desert island. Yet we were treated with such warmth and graciousness by our Chilean, Spanish and Dominican hosts that we were hardly left to our own devices. Man Vs. Wild this was not (Bear Grylls would have been disgusted with us) though we were alone in a jungle, of sorts. This is the entrance to our cabana, aptly named Playa Cabana since it is not more than 30 or 40 yards from the beach.

And this is the gorgeously woolly and vibrantly green shoreline. See? Not a soul in sight. Ahhhh. Truth be told, it was a bit eerie, but on the whole, we were grateful to have such solitude. Even though the sunshine was far from steady, it was 80 degrees and beautiful. The storm permitted us to get lots of reading done, and also allowed us some perspective. Apparently there was severe flooding from the river near Cabarete, and many homes were badly damaged. Our restaurant was closed the first evening of the storm because of the havoc wrought in the staff's villages. They opened the next evening for dinner, and we inquired about their homes and were told that they had escaped severe damage. When the worst we had endured was having to eat cheese sandwiches for 2 nights...and they experience unimaginable poverty and infrastructural frailty on a daily basis...the mind boggles. I don't want to blurt out some stupid trite stereotype such as "but they're such happy people, anyway" HOWEVER, our darling concierge Elaine summed things up quite simply. She described her family and her community with the (very Dickensian) term "penniless" yet went on to say they feel lucky to be alive and to have one another.

A very good holiday message, methinks, eh?