Nothing’s better than waking up to the sound of the waves on the beach, then watching a horse slowly trot by as you sip your cafe con leche. That’s what I think of most from last year’s trip to the Dominican Republic.
We were lucky to have a one bedroom unit across the street from the beach. I’m much more of a morning person than mum, so I’d tiptoe out of bed and out to the balcony to let her sleep in. A little later she’d join me and I’d start the coffee in the small kitchen. It was more like living in a dream than being on vacation.
Playa Costambar is a small community outside of Puerto Plata with a good number of German ex-pats and a popular public access beach. On the weekend days the locals drive in the party would really start. Families swim, groups of friends play volleyball, and people selling all kinds of edibles from fresh whole fish to
tropical fruits would walk the length. Every day we were down on the beach at some point looking for shells, taking photographs of the hurricane damaged hotel, or just to have the local beer, Presidente. Our favorite little place was one of a number of bars and restaurants that lined the beach, unnamed and distinguishable only by the color of the plastic chairs. We’d laugh and talk in our limited Spanish to the fantastic waitress, Cesarina, who was determined to be our “profesora.” Like a dream, except I swear that it was real.