I have always promised myself that I would someday remember to keep a travel journal when I go away. Nothing fancy, just a paragraph or two to document the events that transpire during my time away from home; something to look back on in fondness and laughter, days and then years after the trip has taken place.
I recalled this vow that I had taken in my own mind as my husband and I touched down at JFK, worn and exhausted from our week-long vacation in the Dominican Republic.
Though my memories are already a bit hazy (it has been almost 16 hours since we got back), I will try to recall some of the things that went down during our trip. I will call it: What Happens in the DR stays in the DR, Unless there is Photo Documentation of Everything That Occurred AND You're Writing About it on a Publicly-Viewed Blog... Oh- and Nothing That Happened was Actually Bad enough to Keep From Anyone, Anyway
What? Too lengthy? I think it's just right.
I arose from my slumber at 3:30 am to find Kyle already up- showered, dressed, and having a full breakfast in the kitchen. Not normal. When the car came to pick us up an hour later, he had prepared his anti-anxiety cocktail and expressed his concern about 18 different, yet equally unrealistic, scenarios. He's super-fun to travel with.
One hour and several car-sickness-induced dry heaves later, we met up with our friends at the airport, ready to board the Jet Blue flight to paradise. Everything went off without a hitch, and the nail marks on my skin from Kyle gripping my arm during take-off healed quite nicely.
The four of us traveled to our resort from the chaotic and congested DR airport in a shuttle, passing many a disease-ridden cow, wild horse (which, contrary to the song, just kind of stood in the middle of the road and ate garbage), and mopeds ridden by what I could only assume were suicidal lunatics with a penchant for speeding on uneven pavement. Additionally, we were privy to a native being escorted by the policia into a tiny station in cuffs. Whatever his crime, something tells me it didn't have anything to do with traffic laws. Apparently they don't have any there.
|If you'll notice I'm still nice and pasty in this photo, thus proving that it was, in fact, the beginning of the vacay|
The hotel was gorgeous- palm trees swayed in the warm breeze, dancing to the melody of waves crashing up against the shore... a vast difference from creepily naked branches that shudder in the cold and the sound of cars buzzing along the wet, snow-covered Expressway.
|View of the pool outside our door. I know... I hate me too.|
We spent the rest of our afternoon exploring our home for the next week, sitting on lounge chairs at the ocean, and drinking fun rum drinks with our feet in the sand.
|You should have seen the elderly workers that they forced to shimmy up the swaying palm trees to retrieve these coconuts|
Stay tuned for more installments (as I remember them) of our vacation...