December 26th. I don?t want to be here at work. This looks like a good time to write my trip report. This trip ended up being more of a ?people-meeting? trip rather than a ?thing-doing? trip. So the report?s likely to be light on action and heavy on personal reflection. Kind of like a Kurt Vonnegut novel, only with considerably less plot.
Landed in the outskirts of Santiago at the new Cibao airport Wednesday evening, December 4th. A beautiful, modern building with all the amenities. I was very pleasantly surprised. Now that American Airlines has taken over TWA, it?s a snap to get from St Louis to Santiago without a long layover somewhere. Our friend Hillbilly met me at the airport and I recognized him right away from the pictures I?ve seen in the Media Gallery.
What can I say about this gentleman that hasn?t already been said on these boards? Gracious, accommodating, opinionated, friendly, helpful, patient, knowledgeable, empathetic, etc. That?s our man Hillbilly. What I didn?t know was that he knows almost everybody on the island, at least in the northern states. You?ve heard of the six degrees of separation? Well, when it comes to HB and the greater metropolitan Santiago area, it?s surely no more than 2 degrees, and more often not even that. After almost forty years of teaching at the university, if you live around Santiago, he has either taught you or one of your friends or relatives or in-laws or your doctor or banker, lawyer or landlord. It was incredible.
He knew people working at the aduana so, whereas last year it took me twenty minutes to get through with two bags; this time, with HB standing nearby, it took about twenty seconds and they only unzipped one of the three bags I had. Didn?t look inside any of them. I only dream that my reputation would ever be such that any friend of mine would get special treatment from anybody.
There wasn?t time to do much Wednesday night except to ferry me up to my hotel at Camp David Ranch a half-mile up in the mountains east of Santiago, a truly beautiful spot. An incredible view of the whole of Santiago is available from the veranda of the hotel restaurant and cold Presidentes are available, I?m here to tell you. And if you should ever have the pleasure of dining there, ask for Rafaelito, a very friendly waiter who knows about 50 words in English. He was the best of the bunch for sure.
Thursday, HB came and picked me up from Camp David and I got a deluxe tour of the town. I think he knows every inch of Santiago; which houses were built when, by whom, and what was there before. It was fascinating listening to all the history and the current events. Then we went to his place and I got to meet many members of his immediate family including his lovely wife and a three and half foot tornado named Marco, his effervescent four-year-old grandson. Cute kid, an absolute bundle of energy. If they could get a wire to stick to him, they could light most of the city with the excess energy.
OK, this is going to have to be part one, as it is time to go home. Later on I?ll be telling you about my trip to Sosua, Eddy?s Angels, and how I foiled my own plan to bring 3 cases of Presidente back to Missouri.
Hasta luego,
Mike B
Landed in the outskirts of Santiago at the new Cibao airport Wednesday evening, December 4th. A beautiful, modern building with all the amenities. I was very pleasantly surprised. Now that American Airlines has taken over TWA, it?s a snap to get from St Louis to Santiago without a long layover somewhere. Our friend Hillbilly met me at the airport and I recognized him right away from the pictures I?ve seen in the Media Gallery.
What can I say about this gentleman that hasn?t already been said on these boards? Gracious, accommodating, opinionated, friendly, helpful, patient, knowledgeable, empathetic, etc. That?s our man Hillbilly. What I didn?t know was that he knows almost everybody on the island, at least in the northern states. You?ve heard of the six degrees of separation? Well, when it comes to HB and the greater metropolitan Santiago area, it?s surely no more than 2 degrees, and more often not even that. After almost forty years of teaching at the university, if you live around Santiago, he has either taught you or one of your friends or relatives or in-laws or your doctor or banker, lawyer or landlord. It was incredible.
He knew people working at the aduana so, whereas last year it took me twenty minutes to get through with two bags; this time, with HB standing nearby, it took about twenty seconds and they only unzipped one of the three bags I had. Didn?t look inside any of them. I only dream that my reputation would ever be such that any friend of mine would get special treatment from anybody.
There wasn?t time to do much Wednesday night except to ferry me up to my hotel at Camp David Ranch a half-mile up in the mountains east of Santiago, a truly beautiful spot. An incredible view of the whole of Santiago is available from the veranda of the hotel restaurant and cold Presidentes are available, I?m here to tell you. And if you should ever have the pleasure of dining there, ask for Rafaelito, a very friendly waiter who knows about 50 words in English. He was the best of the bunch for sure.
Thursday, HB came and picked me up from Camp David and I got a deluxe tour of the town. I think he knows every inch of Santiago; which houses were built when, by whom, and what was there before. It was fascinating listening to all the history and the current events. Then we went to his place and I got to meet many members of his immediate family including his lovely wife and a three and half foot tornado named Marco, his effervescent four-year-old grandson. Cute kid, an absolute bundle of energy. If they could get a wire to stick to him, they could light most of the city with the excess energy.
OK, this is going to have to be part one, as it is time to go home. Later on I?ll be telling you about my trip to Sosua, Eddy?s Angels, and how I foiled my own plan to bring 3 cases of Presidente back to Missouri.
Hasta luego,
Mike B
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