Back on the road – DR’s north coast

It was tough. Getting up before dawn, loading up our bikes, wolfing down a bit of food, and hitting the road in the pre-dawn heat was a tough thing to do after a month of R&R on the beaches of Las Terrenas. Our heart-breaking good-bye drinks with the gang (we now have “a gang” in Las Terrenas) at Mojitos, our local beach bar, made it even tougher. After an hour or so of slogging up a rather largish hill in the searing mid-morning sun and soaked to the bone in sweat, we were pretty much sure we had definitely made the wrong decision to leave our paradise in LT. Ahh, com’on ya couple of pansies, stop yer whinin’! What do we think this is, a vacation? J


Actually, we have been pleasantly surprised by the cycle-touring situation thus far. We were a little apprehensive after reading in the Lonely Planet guide that, in general, DR is a difficult travel destination for budget travellers, since according to them “there is a limited number of options for independent travellers wishing to make decisions on the fly and for whom cost is a concern.” Hmmm, that’s us in spades. And more so on a bike, simply because you don’t have the option of driving another hour to get to the next place to stay. This could suck.


But, after a few days on the road, and comfortably rolling into our first major destination, Cabarete – wind-sport capital of the DR and one of the top-ten kite surfing destinations in the world – we’re thinking Lonely Planet is on crack. Maybe it’s coming from a year of slogging through the emptiness of S.A., but so far this is a cake walk. Target destinations spaced 50 to 70 kms apart, lots of little hotels with pools for 25 to 30 bucks/night, plata del dias (the staple DR meal of rice, beans, chicken, salad) for 3 to 4 bucks, cold bottled water on the fly for 15 pesos (40 cents), delicious DR coffee sold by little old ladies on the road, good roads, wonderful people....and it all leads to a palm-lined beach. So, er, what’s up with that Lonely Planet? OK, maybe we’re getting a little cocky since we haven’t been anywhere yet. I guess we’ll see.


The biggest issue, thus far, is perhaps, or predictably, the heat. Cycling touring the Caribbean in July. Whose idea was that?! Beating the heat requires strategy. Actually though, it’s not that different than Toronto in mid July. Really, google it. The basic strategy, after putting in what seems like a million or so kms in tropical countries, is number 1: hit the road at or before dawn. Do your 50 or 80 kms, then shut it down by 10 or 11 am, noon at the latest. Then, like a vampire, find a cool place in the shade to hibernate for the afternoon (and drink cold beer, of course) -- like an air conditioned room, or a pool chair in the shade, a bed with a ceiling fan on full bore, or underneath a palm tree in a good wind. (I’m typing this while lying on a bed underneath a ceiling fan on “maximum” at 2 in the afternoon)


At about 6 pm, exit the hibernation nest and enjoy the sunset and the unparalleled loveliness of the Caribbean evenings. Evenings here are like walking on a cloud and drinking champagne from a fountain. You just can’t beat that warm moist air messaging your body while you refill your glass and take one last look at the big orange ball slipping into the ocean. So ya, heat schmeat. Bring-on-the-heat Amy can’t get enough of it. Heat, what heat?


So the DR. The more we see of it, the more we like it. It’s like Cuba with infrastructure, and very reminiscent of our travels through Central America...Nicaragua maybe? Highlights so far are finding out that the roads and traffic are manageable, the Wi-Fi is good, the people are wonderfully friendly, and you could live on plata del dia if you had to, but there are scads of fruits and veggies sold for next to nothing to keep you healthy. Oh, and rum is cheap, of course. And, we found a cheaper beer, Bohemia, than the vastly popular Presidente, which for some reason tastes identical but is more expensive. Starting to figure things out here.


But, at the end of the day, what really makes the DR the DR, has to be the beaches, palm trees, and turquoise water. The whole thing is one giant tropical postcard. It must have the highest palm tree count per linear foot of beach in the world. Everywhere we go, “oh, another beautiful beach...whatever, pass the beer nuts”.


As mentioned, we rolled into Cabarete yesterday – DR’s adrenaline centre. Anything you want to ride, sail, or paddle is here. Of course, with that, come the throngs of fluorescent-skinned tourists, grizzled expats, and about 5 or 6 languages spoken amongst the fleshy white mammals basking themselves on the beach chairs. Coming from low-key Las Terrenas, Cabarete has more of a Banff x Disneyland feel to it. We just paid almost a dollar for a mango (usually about 20 cents). Outrageous!


OK, onwards. Tomorrow we hit the pavement, very hot pavement, and continue west towards the end of the DR, and, therefore, the Haitian border. We still haven’t come to terms with actually going to Haiti. We might chicken out at the last moment, not sure. We’ll see what we feel like on game day. For now, we’re living large in the DR. Una mas cerceza por favor!