All good things...must end

It’s always anticlimactic isn’t it? No ribbon to cross, no band playing, no cheering fans. Just hot, sweaty, and tired as we rolled into our ultimate and final trip destination: Boca Chica, Dominican Republic. We needed a place to land that is within striking distance of the Las Americas airport near Santo Domingo, the DR’s capital. This is as close as you can get, without actually being at the airport. It’s a touristy beach town with the usual touristy chaos, but it has a beach, and we have a nice little place to stay with a pool. Upon landing, it took us a few minutes to realize the significance of the situation. Oh ya, this is it. We’re done! Like, done done! We took the picture...then went for a swim. The lady taking the photo had no idea, and I’m sure thought it was just another couple of cheesy tourists wanting their picture taken.


It was a bit of a slog across the DR’s southern route from the Haitian border. A few long days – longer than we wanted – were required. I’m happy to report that 5 or 6 zip ties successfully held my rear rack together for our final sojourn. It’s the least touristy portion of the DR, and the driest, and perhaps the hottest. As a rain shadow, the lush jungles and palm trees of the northeast are replaced by cacti and scrub. An interesting facet of the route was riding along Lago (lake) Eriquillo, which lies below sea level (-27 m) and is the lowest spot in the Caribbean. With the central mountains off in the distance, and Pico Duarte – the highest peak in the Caribbean (3087 m) – it reminded us of how geographically diverse things are here for a smallish island in the Caribbean – although, Hispaniola is the second largest island in the Caribbean, second only to Cuba.


So the DR. In a nutshell, we love it. Along with Argentina, it’s our fave (don't make us choose). Sure there are the megaresorts and the slimy touristy areas where old overweight white men sit with their underaged chicas perched on their laps. But hey, saying that is the DR, is like saying Canada is Whistler or Vancouver’s downtown eastside. The real DR, the DR you see on a bike, and of course our beloved Las Terrenas, is what we will undoubtedly come back for one day. As a cycling destination, highly recommended. It’s got everything you need and want: good roads, good budget accom, friendly people, latino culture, cold beer, and of course, beaches, beaches, beaches. If you’re looking for a Caribbean cycling destination, DR would be a good choice. Haiti...optional J In an absurd irony, Haiti, while one of the poorest nations on the planet, turned out to be our most expensive country. Something is definitely wrong there.


With yesterday’s 100+ km ride, we clocked in at 985 kms total on Isla Hispaniola, putting the final trip odometer at 8287 kms for S.A. + Hispaniola. Sitting here poolside, drinking good strong DR espresso, and writing about it as a past event, I already miss it. Just what exactly are we going to do back in the real world? Ah, can’t think about that just yet. We still have a few days before we fly out J


So how do we wrap up a year on the road? Eight countries, 8000+ kms, 4 shredded tires, 2 major whipe outs, 30+ flats, 157 accommodation situations, 13 separate flights, 18 passport stamps, 15361 photos, 69 blog posts, 100+ books read, inner tubes with patches on top of patches, broken spokes, twisted wheels, broken camera, worn-out clothes, blown-out flip flops...the list goes on. We’re gonna miss it!


Really, we’re going to miss it...that first beer upon getting to our destination after a long hot ride, warm tropical nights, speaking (trying) Spanish, plato del dia, the Andes, Pacific sunsets, salsa, steak and Argentine wine, empanadas, finding that perfect place and perfect accom setup, biking for a living, taking a day off to relax, palm trees, cool out-of-the-way places, exotic people, cheap beer, tasty street food, waking up to a free breakfast, morning swims, tropical fruits and veggies, the list is endless.

Plato del dia!

However, there are definitely things we won’t miss: getting to a shithole town and shithole accom after a long hot day, getting up at 5:30 am to beat the heat, riding into gale-force headwinds, getting stuck at the border, getting gringoed (i.e., paying the vastly inflated gringo price), rooms without ventilation of any kind, sleepless nights due to latino top-40 blaring into the wee hours of the night, endless car alarms, getting chased by man-eating stray dogs, dead dogs on the road, endless roads through the desert, endless garbage, language barriers, riding through tunnels with no shoulder, not being able to drink the water, the smell of raw sewage...another endless list. Funny how that is. Pros and cons, as they say.


Last evening we splurged on our celebratory last ocean-side dinner. A stunningly beautiful place perched out over the ocean. Lots of elegant white fabrics flowing in the wind. And that tropical evening air...wow, we’re going to miss these tropical nights. Then there’s my bike. End of an era. Snapping off a piece of the frame was the final straw. A bike I picked up in 1989 in Fredericton, New Brunswick, it has seen a lot of miles on more than a few continents. Its final resting place will be the DR. The young pool guy here at our hotel will love it until its final death, I’m sure. It’s like saying good bye to an old friend.


So back to reality tomorrow. Santo Domingo, JFK, Salt Lake City, Spokane, Nelson. Well, pseudo-reality. Neither of us has a job, and we have no place to live (Amy’s kinda panicking). In this case it’s not really “back to the grind”, but rather, “return to base”. Then, not entirely sure. But hey, August in the Kootenays...can’t go wrong there.


To those of you loyal followers (all three of you!), thanks for reading. It’s been fun. I will miss getting up early, drinking coffee, watching Latin America wake up, and blogging to you fine folks from our corner of the planet. Hasta la proxima!