Dominican Republic, Day 2: Car hunting in Santo Domingo

Waterfront, Santo Domingo

So there we were, on our second day in the Dominican Republic and without any leads on a rental car.  Somehow we needed to make the 2.5-hour journey to the Samaná Peninsula the following day. I'd already begun to wonder what the odds were that we wouldn't find a rental at all.

Fortunately for us, the lovely Hotel Atarazana had a computer for guest use and we were able to easily search the location of car rental companies. They all were about 3 miles away near the waterfront.

Before starting on our mission we decided to eat breakfast at the same place we'd been to the night before, Restaurante El Conde, on the plaza. This time we managed to snag a table outdoors.

Scotty, channeling his inner Johnny Depp

For simple breakfast food, the meal was pretty awesome; I got scrambled eggs with cheese, Scotty got the same with ham, both with toast. We each had a café con leché (coffee with milk), which always seems to taste so much better than coffee with cream at home. And we shared a glass of cold passionfruit juice (jugo de chinola)... so refreshing in the tropical morning which was already heating up to around 80˚F.

Scotty and I agreed that the eggs really do taste so much fresher and which we thought probably had to do with the fact that in many (all?) Latin American countries they aren't refrigerated. (Side note: I seem to have a bit of a complex about pulling out a camera to take a picture of my meals in restaurants, so I'll have to work on that and leave the goodness up to imaginations for now.)

After breakfast it was back to the business of finding transportation. We decided to start walking in the direction of the rental car companies (all seemingly in the same neighborhood) and see how far we got before getting a cab.

The sun was very, very hot as we trudged along the concrete sidewalk. I'd worn my old, least favorite flip flops so of course my feet started getting torn up about halfway there, wherever "there" was. But we pressed on, stubbornly refusing to get in a cab and I, to attempt to communicate where to go when we really didn't know.

Not sure what this was all about...

Eventually we came across Dollar Rent-A-Car and went inside the tiny office to a blast of cold air. It felt so nice. But again, we heard pretty much the same thing they had told us in the airport: they were sold out. And a look around their lot confirmed it. We watched dejectedly as the a person who had been in the office before us (with a reservation) drove off with their last rental car. Even the rental car agents shrugged and told us we could try Alamo down the road, but that it was the busiest week of the year. Which was why I had a reservation to begin with, of course.

We arrived at Alamo after what seemed like another hour of walking and repeated our plea for a car. At first the girl told us no, they had no cars. But as we stood there looking forlorn and inquiring whether we could come back at any other time, she must have either took pity on us or wanted us out of the office and agreed that perhaps, she might have a car that we could pick up first thing the following morning. No matter that it would cost us nearly three times what the original reservation had been for-at that point we felt lucky to even get a car. Also,  the rental would have to include full insurance coverage, a necessity in the Dominican Republic we now understand, regardless of whether one had their own coverage through a credit card or other insurance policy.

We left in a state of tentative triumph, hoping that a car would indeed materialize the following day, but glad to have a printed reservation in hand.

Celebrating... with bandages for my feet

On the way back to our side of town, we decided to walk along the waterfront side of the road.

The breeze from the ocean cooled us down and we decided to stop for celebratory drinks at a waterfront restaurant.

On the beach below, we could see local kids playing in the surf, enjoying their holiday off from school.

But not too far away from them, we also spotted a bunch of trash washed up on the beach.

Around town I'd also noticed a lot of trash, in some places more than others. Certain neighborhoods appeared very well kept; others, not so much.

Immaculate, touristy neighborhood near in the Zona Colonial

Waterfront buildings (the red one is a strip club)

We took our time walking back to the Zona Colonial, enjoying being outside and by the ocean, even if it was far from an island paradise.

I still wouldn't have traded the experience for an all-inclusive resort, but if I learned anything in the first 24-hours in Dominican Republic, it's that traveling independently in a developing country is sometimes easier said than done.

One thing to note: I felt very safe walking around Santo Domingo. As you can see, we dress pretty far from flashy, especially during the day and never were bothered by anyone despite being gringo tourists. The most attention we were paid was being beeped at by a series of taxis on our "rental car walk".

Next up, Las Terrenas, on the Samaná Peninsula!

Waterfront, Santo Domingo, DR

California Road Trip Day 3: Santa Barbara

Downtown Santa Barbara

After a night of camping at El Capitán State Beach, we packed up and headed south on Highway 1 to check out Santa Barbara. Still hungry from lack of dinner the night before, I had one thing on my mind: tacos from La Supa Rica.

I first "discovered" La Supa Rica via the lovely lifestyle and cooking blog, LA in Bloom, written by Los Angeles local, Heather Taylor. Only later on, when I searched on the Internet to get directions, did I realize that the New York Times had featured it in the article "36 Hours in Santa Barbara" and that, as evidenced by Yelp and other reviews like this one, this Mexican eatery has quite the following.

From the minute we got there I could understand why. We had arrived earlier than the 11 a.m. opening time, so we took a cruise around town. When we got back it was only 11:15 but there was already a short line out the door. Fortunately, we only had to wait about five minutes before ordering at the front window.

Corn tortillas being handmade behind the order window

I got the tacos de rajás (grilled poblano peppers with cheese) and Scotty ordered the grilled chorizo tacos and steak tacos (which he kindly shared with me), along with a side of beans, guacamole, and fresh corn tortillas. The salsa bar offering spicy, mild, and green tomatillo salsa was divine.

La comida muy rica at La Supa Rica

After eating the most heavenly meal possible after starving the night before, we walked out into the Santa Barbara sunshine to explore around town.

Then, with Wind-Lass on our minds, we checked out the Santa Barbara Harbor. It's beautiful, right? The not-so-great news is it costs a pretty penny to spend any significant amount of time there. Maybe someday we'll figure out a way...

A few hours later we headed South on Highway 1 to the next stop at our campsite at Malibu's Leo Carrillo State Beach.

Dominican Republic: Zona Colonial

There aren't very many road signs in Santo Domingo, and quite a bit of traffic: a bad combination anywhere when you have no idea where you're going, but especially in the DR. As our cabbie navigated some close calls, several people running across the highway, and congested bridge entrances, I was really happy not to have to worry about a rental car.

View from our hotel balcony in Santo Domingo

Even though we didn't get our rental car as planned, taking a taxi turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Though I'd procured some directions to the hotel, they were more of the sort that consisted of landmarks, "turn left after you cross the bridge and right by the big square", that are way to subject to interpretation (i.e."Was that a bridge?"). We would have been hopelessly lost. Lesson re-learned: it's much better to get your bearings in a foreign place before you attempt to drive.

We traveled West for about twenty-five minutes before arriving in the neighborhood colloquially called the "Zona Colonial" or "Cuidad Colonial". We passed by what looked like a very old mission building, which I later learned was the "Catedral de Santa Mariá la Menor" known as the oldest cathedral in the Americas (completed in 1540!).

 La Catedral de Santá Maria la Menor

An adjacent plaza appeared a gathering place for both locals and tourists with several open-air cafés and some large trees near park benches.

Hotel Restaurante El Conde on the edge of La Plaza de Las Americas

Our cab driver quickly found the hotel for us, after a few turns and twists down tiny one-way streets and getting directions from a passerby, in Spanish, of course. By the time he brought us right to the hotel's front door, the ride had been well worth the $40.

Street view from the hotel room balcony

The hotel we were staying at the first two nights in Santo Domingo, Hotel Atarazana, was one I found through its listing on Trip Advisor. At the front door, open to the hall but secured with a barred gate, we rang the bell and were intercepted by a young man who greeted us warmly in Spanish, asked if we spoke the language, and when I replied, "a little", he proceeded to explain about the hotel and give us a short tour. He was so nice and professional that I felt completely at ease, even though I wished my Spanish were a lot better at that point.

He told us breakfast was served each morning in the dining area, which was a beautiful, open garden-like area in the center of the hotel, and that we were to pay upon leaving. We were also given an electronic key and a code to get in and out of the hotel's gated front door.

View from our hotel room balcony

Hotel Atarazana turned out to be a completely lovely small hotel, with two stories and only six rooms, and a rooftop deck to hang out on.

Rooftop deck at Hotel Atarazana in Santo Domingo

With its high ceilings, natural decor, immaculate housekeeping, we were pretty pleased. The room stepped out to a very small balcony with just enough room to for two people to sit. The bathroom was just a regular hotel bathroom with a simple shower (no bathtub), toilet, and sink.

But at this point, we were VERY tired and hungry. So we showered, changed out of our travel clothes and ventured out into the evening dusk.

After some time walking around a bit lost, despite the map the hotel had provided, we managed to find the main square we had driven past and decided on a café with outdoor seating. It appeared to be quite the popular place; so popular we had to sit inside at a table near the wide upon entrance so it was almost like being outside anyway.

A daytime view of what became our standby eatery in Santo Domingo, Hotel Restaurante El Conde

Our dinner consisted of sharing a shrimp cocktail, a salad with a side of avocado, and some fried cheese  curds and a few local beers. Afterwards, we took a slightly different route back to our hotel and happened upon a musical performance set up on a stage in another square. Christmas decorations were still up and a lively group of all ages had formed to clap along to the singers.

Just before going to bed that night at the hotel, I stepped out onto our balcony. I could feel my muscles begin to relax in the tropical night air, a musical beat still dribbling across from the square, when in the street below, a small pickup truck suddenly pulled up in front the hotel and attempted to wedge itself into a parking spot that nearly equal it's length.

"Seriously?"

I watched as the driver back it up again and again into a tiny car parked behind it, lifting up the bumper until both were flush with the curb. When the driver got out, he admired his work, then walked towards the police station in uniform (yep, he was a cop).

Later on, another car actually hit the concrete wall and bottomed out. I heard a girl shriek from inside it, then saw her get out to check for damage, before she hopped back in and they drove on. And I wondered what exactly we had gotten ourselves into this time...

Next up: our continued pursuit of a rental car and a pilgrimage the beach in Las Terrenas on the Samaná Peninsula.

Dominican Republic, Day 1: Winging it to Santo Domingo

Dominican Republic (Image found here)

A few days after Christmas, Scotty and I said "hasta luego" to our families and boarded a flight to the Dominican Republic. Why there? Well, there were two main reasons besides the obvious promise of beaches and warm weather. One was that the tickets into Santo Domingo were the most reasonable I could find for that type of place, in tandem with our plans to visit family at the Christmas. But the other was based on this article from an issue of Budget Travel magazine I read back in 2010 and saved. If you have the time, it's definitely worth the read. The author pretty much convinced me that the Samaná Peninsula seemed like it would be right up our independent traveler alley.

I'd booked us on a non-stop on Delta Airlines out of Atlanta, and though it left at a comfortable 10 a.m., somehow we found ourselves rising at around 5 a.m. to give ourselves enough time to get to the airport, return the rental car, and be there the recommended two hours before departure.

The whole went off without a hitch and we found ourselves at the gate ready to depart well ahead of time and in time to catch a gorgeous sunrise over the tarmac.

The passengers on board our flight we took were a real mix of humanity, about half English-speaking and half Spanish-speaking, the announcements also bilingual. I've always found it interesting that regardless of which airline you're flying with, international air travel can make me feel like I've already left my own country when I'm still at the gate.

Dominican Republic is in the Atlantic Time Zone, an hour ahead of the US East Coast's Eastern Standard Time (EST). The flight from Atlanta took just over three hours, but was delayed taking off, so we got in around 4:30 p.m., about an hour later than originally planned.

We followed the signs in the airport toward customs and lined up at a small kiosk to purchase a tourist ticket for $10 US each. There wasn't really any clear information about whether we had to go there first or not and I had to ask an airport employee.

Then we went through actual customs, a quick and simple "Buenos tardes" ending in a stamp in each of our passports. We's both just brought a carry-on bag and we able to bypass the baggage claim, heading instead to the car rental counter for Thrifty where our reserved car would be waiting.

Or so I thought...

I fished out my printed reservation and handed it to the young male car rental agent. He greeted us, looked at it, and started clicking on his computer. After a minute, he looked up again and still smiling said (in English), "Well, unfortunately, we are all sold out of this type of car (economy)."
A few seconds of silence ticked by.

Me: "Um, okay. Do you have anything else?"

He went back to clicking on the computer, then spoke in Spanish to another agent at a different rental place next door and eventually turned back to us.

Agent: "Unfortunately, we do not have any other cars for this price. We do have one car, but it requires that you purchase insurance." Since he didn't volunteer how much that would cost, I was afraid to ask.

Me: "Will you have any other economy cars tomorrow?"

Agent: "You can call us, but I do not know right now if we will. We are all sold out."

Me: "Okay... would there be a time we can show up in the morning to get one?"

Agent: "It's best to just call. Sorry! You guys are great. Okay, bye!" He was still smiling and appeared completely unfazed. Obviously, we were getting our lesson about traveling independently in the Dominican Republic.

We proceeded to go to each and every car rental counter in the airport, all to be met with the same answer, "No cars, sorry." By the way people booth-hopped in front of us, it was quite obvious that they were all in the know about our situation. Only one told us they had a car for nearly $500 including insurance but that was the only option. (For comparison, our original reservation was a total of $150 for a week, through otherwise reputable CarRentals.com, which I understand was way too good to be true).

Knowing that we were staying in nearby Santo Domingo for the next two days before we really needed a car to get to the other side of the island, we declined. We also tried to rent a car with our cell phones but couldn't get any service in the airport. Eventually we gave up and decided to just take a cab to our hotel.

 Zona Colonial, Santo Domingo

Outside the airport, we walked towards a line of waiting taxis that actually appeared somewhat organized and were quoted for $40 US to the Zona Colonial in the heart of Santo Domingo. The cab fare was exactly the price the hotel had told us to expect, so we hopped in the small beat-up car that looked something like a Toyota Camry, and were on our way.

Next up: more about our experience in Dominican Republic's capital city. And it does get better.

Waterfront, Santo Domingo, DR

A southern Christmas

Three years ago, after spending nearly many years of working and raising a family in Minnesota, my mom  made the big decision to finally say goodbye to those long winters and relocate to Asheville, North Carolina. Before moving, Mom had visited a friend and simply fell in love with the area. Asheville is an easy place to enjoy for many reasons (I know because I get reminded of Asheville's attributes frequently. I've begun to suspect she may want me to move there, too...) There's a strong arts community, a temperate four-season climate with mild winters, and the town is nestled in the foothills of the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains. Plus, it's an affordable place to live.

When I go to visit, nine times out of ten, we fly into Atlanta, then drive three and a half hours north to my mom's house, or stop at Scotty's parents about an hour and a half north of the airport in Georgia.

And this year, we were able to be there for Christmas!

Mom got a Christmas tree from the farmer's market and we decorated it together on Christmas Eve using the ornaments she gave my brother and I each year.

Success!

My brother showed us the new and entertaining game, "cat-catching-with-a-paper-bag". We may have also played Scrabble like normal people...

We also made it to Gainesville for a Christmas Eve dinner with Scotty's mom and his brother's family. And on Christmas, Scotty's mom drive all the way up to meet my mom and spend the day with us in North Carolina.

After leaving my mom's house, we drove back to Georgia to stay with Scotty's dad and step-mom before departing for Dominican Republic.

In all, we spent about a week combined in both North Carolina and Georgia.

Here are some of the many fun things to do in and around Asheville:

1. Visit the Folk Art Center

Mom took me here on my first visit to see her in Asheville. Everything is so beautiful and it's really refreshing to browse and buy things that were handcrafted and made with care.

Plus, you're supporting local communities and artists, promoting sustainability, and cultural traditions. And admission is free!

2. Travel the Blue Ridge Parkway and visit Chimney Rock State Park

"Going for a drive" reaches a whole new level of entertainment in Western NC and northern Georgia. Talk about gorgeous country. Here are some photos of our past outings in the area:

Tallulah Gorge State Park

Tallulah Gorge, Northern Georgia, October 28, 2011

 It's long way down!

Chimney Rock State Park

View from Chimney Rock, NC- October 27, 2011

That's a big rock!

One thing to be aware of is the not-so-cheap entrance fee for Chimney Rock of $12 or $15 per adult depending on current rates. But to help protect a beautiful and rare place, we thought it was well worth it.

3. Have a microbrew (or two)

Asheville is known for its exceptional culture of craftsmanship and this doesn't stop with beverages. In fact, this part of the country is a place where tradition remains strong and homesteading skills are still a way of life for many. What better way to enjoy the culture than by visiting a brewery or bar and chatting with the locals?

Our choice of venue, The Thirsty Monk, was a fun place with knowledgeable bartenders and many different beers available, many of them locally brewed.

4. Shop and walk in downtown Asheville
You know those towns that look really boarded up and forlorn? Yeah, Asheville is the exact opposite. In fact, you'd be hard-pressed to find a livelier, more vibrant mid-sized town. Though Asheville repeatedly makes the list of "Top Places to Retire" and is also known as a college town, thanks to outdoorsy and left-leaning Warren Wilson College and the University of North Carolina at Asheville. Still, there seem to be a good mix of all ages out and about, enjoying the fresh mountain air and browsing the many art galleries, craft stores, clothing shops and bookstores. The cobblestone streets and mountain vistas only add to the ambiance.

5. Eat some really good food at:

Mela
This place serves up the best Indian food I've ever had. We all went out to dinner together the day after Christmas. We decided to order a variety of dishes to share, including the vegetable samosas, sag paneer (cheese cubes in seasoned spinach), chicken tikka masala, and the spicy vegetable vindaloo. The full menu can be viewed here.


6. Pick up local products at a farm store...

Hickory Nut Gap is a little farm/ farm store we visited the first Scotty and I went to see my mom in Asheville. I didn't take any good photos of the actual shop, but the resident goats somehow got press time. It was pre-blog, so who knows what I was thinking. Anyway, this lovely blogger who I've been reading for a while, happened to cover it recently so if you're interested in seeing more, check out her post about it, here (along with some cute pics of her kiddos).

7. ... or stay in town and shop at the French Broad Co-op

Close to the heart of downtown Asheville, this small store is a convenient and well-stocked place to browse a surprising variety of dry goods, local and foreign wines, or stock up on spices in bulk.

8. Stop for some boiled peanuts

(This image found here)

The first time Scotty suggested we stop for boiled peanuts, I thought he was either kidding or crazy. But boy had I been missing out on one of the tastiest (and healthiest) roadside snacks!

Boiled peanuts are something common in the South, made from mature, raw green peanuts brewed in salt water.. You can get them at gas stations, farm stores (like this one we've been to several times) and sometimes simple stands in front of someone's house like this one we stopped at a few days after Christmas. The lady's accent was so thick I could hardly understand her, but when I said, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" she just smiled in understanding and repeated what what she'd said. Clearly I was not from around those parts.

I couldn't resist snapping a shot of her little open storefront/ garage sale in the yard. It may not look like much, but those peanuts were the best I've ever had.

So, in a (pea)nutshell, Scotty and I had such a peaceful and happy holiday time with family and I can't wait until our next visit!