Punta Cana Travelogue

Two am is hell when you actually fall asleep at ten thirty and don’t really sleep because you refused a wake up call and don’t trust both phone alarms to go off. But you wake shower and rush and get to airport and all is okay and you mentally check off a box on that itinerary in your anxious brain.

Minor problem with someone at Air Canada who was was so helpful on the phone when we registered medical equipment for special handling then apparently wandered off without noting anything in our records because they were really just a cleaner who answered the phone (I assume…). Otherwise on plane with tired ease.

Plane food resembles train food. Plane food is no longer free (how long has in been since I flew anywhere?!?). Air stewards all seem to have nice bums (my wife made the observation. I agreed). We of course were sat behind three brothers that resembled humans who could easily go as Shrek on Halloween and their extended, loud, crass family. Otherwise flight uneventful. Bonus points for me.. My don’t use a washroom on an aircraft remains unbroken after thirty-seven years.

Punta Cana airport is quaintly tropical in that it is all open air and thatched roof construction. Runways are buckled a bit due to heat but all in all arrival was spectacula… wait. I forgot we fucked up within three minutes of exiting customs with our luggage.

Porter found.. check.

Oh a lady with a clipboard sees us! Yay she’s the tour guide! Yay shes checking our paperwork, all in order! We are escorted to a desk where another lady talks to us about our trip and oh, goody, deals! Best chance to book excursions! Ooh we can get two for $100 US total and all we have to do is visit a nearby Other Resort (No names mentioned) and do an ninety minute tour then book our times.. um I guess. We paid the $100 and booked our transport to the fucking Hard Rock Cafe for the next morning and the porter shaking his head got us in a taxi because we missed the bus.

Arrived at resort. It was immaculate and beautiful. Everyone was friendly and helpful. In our rooms, in our bathing suits, brief nap then off to book restaurants for the week.

Free booze!*

Free food!*

Sexy Russian women!

More loud irritating Canadians. Woah. Wait. Insert sound of needle scratching a record.

Okay. Here is my list of a weeks worth of vacationer stereotypes:

Russians: women sexy and fit and men less fit. Women enjoying themselves and a bit haughty. Men drunk and or just angry. They don’t seem to like the heat.

Mediterraneans: Stick to their groups. Friendly. Generally fit. Lots of tattoos. Women sexy. Men look like they are ready to challenge you to a sword fight but friendly.

Americans (with the exception of cigar guys) friendly, a little loud, in need of a gym membership. Women friendly, karaoke types. Men: frendly sportsy guys.

Canadians: 50% quiet and unassuming. 50% crass loud asshats. I didnt tell many people I was canadian. Women: 50% american seeming. 50% trailer park. Men: 50% american seeming. 50% brushcuts, goatees, crude lewd t-shirts, drunk by noon and not people I wanted to hang around with.

Russian women: sexy (did I say this already?)

We drank a bit. Swam. Ate. In bed by 8:30pm exhausted.

Next Up: Day Two… The Weather Outside is Not Actually Frightful Just Hottish


Punta Cana Travelogue

Day Zero

I was surprised more than anyone that we were on our way. We say aboard a Via Rail train (Canadian version of Amtrak for you American folk) on our way to Montreal. It was cheaper to fly out of the northern Francophone city than from Toronto or Ottawa and less hectic than adding an extra pair of visits with angry customs folks by heading southish to Syracuse. Also cheap moi had enough travel points to get us train transport for free. Granted, as usual, I didnt account for the cost of parking a car for a week at the rail station… nor my wife for the cost of a needed hotel stay and rousing ones selves when one books a six am flight.

So we sit on a train.

Chug a chug a chug.

It had been a stress inducing few weeks leading up however due to the need to arrange child transportation and care and paperwork for medical supplies for my wife. And buying food they would eventually not eat choosing to be away from home at others places for six of eight days. Oh and not to mention a minor plumbing disaster a week before we left. And work issues. All in all a day before leaving I was at DEFcon 3 and ready to accept losing a few grand and just staying home.

But chug chug chug. We were on a train.

Transport from train station was simple. It was Canada! We are Canadian! No lanuage issues. Everyone speaks engkish! Sure we grew up learning French but realistically, contrary to what they taught us in school and what advocates of French immersion for kids will tell you *, living outside of Quebec you rarely if ever need or use what French you know. Ever. It is all a big lie. And you feel anxious when placed in a situation when you may have to use it.

No French used apart from eavesdropping on others and dropping a “oui merci” here and there immediately followed by a “yes please” so you come off as polite but there being no mistake you are Anglais. We got from train to airport to hotel and ate the best spaghetti Bolognese I had had In years. (Far better than the Tom Hiddleston Bolognese disaster a few years back…).

We slept and set the alarm for two am.


Zut alors..

Next Up:

Day 1: We Arrive… Hell is Other People