I guess all impressions are tainted with the expectations we have, our preferences and level of tolerance? Having said, that, here are some notes on Las Terrenas, as I experienced the place, on a visit last summer:
Before going there, I did a little bit of research and I also got information from Dominican friends of my girlfriend. So, my expectations were to find something similar to White Beach, Boracay Island (in the Philippines). That was (and still is) the place closest to my image of ?the perfect beach?.
We drove from Santo Domingo and as we reached the north, we started the climb over the mountain range to get to Las Terrenas. I have never heard my girlfriend scream ?Ay, Dios Mio!!!? so frequently before, as she did now when she tried to manouver her little Mitsubishi around and across HUGE potholes, while we were being overtaken by one overloaded pickup after the other, driven by maniacs, who apparently had no concern about road safety.
(I might add that my girlfriend is Dominican and this was her first visit to Las Terrenas. She had heard so many good things about the place and wanted to take me there, after hearing me go on and on about Boracay Island, Kho Phan Nang, Bali, Tioman Island and of course the fantastic beaches of Languedoc.)
Finally, we reached Las Terrenas and drove into the village and a total chaos! I think we had to ask 10 people before finding the place we were staying at. (To be honest, I have cleansed my memory of the name of the place.)
?Our place? was one of those typical collection of bungalows kind of places, with a combined bar + restaurant close to the beach. This being a tourist place (however, not an ?All Inclusive?), I assumed I would be able to get by without speaking Spanish. But no, no? I tried all languages I knew, but being penta-lingual didn?t help me there? They insisted on me learning a sixth language, so they wouldn?t have to learn a second? Sigh!
Amazingly, there was a dirt road cutting off the beach from our place, with Jeeps, motorbikes, people on horses and all sorts of traffic zooming by! Geez! Talk about ?pristine? beaches?
At night we drove in total darkness into the village for dinner. Talk about nightmarish place. More traffic than at Picadilly Circus on a Saturday night. Hellish noise from makeshift bars and pickup trucks with loudspeakers in the back blasting away deafening merengue and bachata. Some of the worst traffic offenders were quadbikes, driven by tourists who desperately tried to look like carefree latter day hippies, making an effort to break every rule about driving.
Then, when we had made our way back to the bungalow and turned in, I woke up in the middle of the night, by a kind of ?cracking? sound form outside the bungalow. I got out of bed and went outside. It turned out that the next bungalow, only c.75 meters away from ours, was on fire!!! I woke up my girlfriend and she ran over to the camp office to check if anybody had called the fire brigade.
Thousands of sparks were raining all over the area, landing on the thatched roofs of the bungalows. I felt the whole area was just moments from being turned into an inferno. I ran over to the burning bungalow. There was a camp guard standing there with a handheld powder extinguisher, pointing it at the fire,as if he believed he could put it out by threatening it. I shouted ?Anyone inside? Have you evacuated the other bungalows?? He just stared at me in his mono-lingual way?
My level of tolerance was not too high at that moment in time, so I swore at him and screamed ?Evacuate!!!?, in my ignorance thinking that ?evacuate? would be internationally understood. No such thing! I left the guy standing there with the ridiculous little extinguisher and started running to all the other bungalows to wake people up.
After a while, my girlfriend came back. We sat outside on a bench and watched the burning bungalow fall apart, while we tried to check where all the sparks went. My girlfriend told me that there were three guards at the camp office. They had called the fire brigade but were mostly worried about their jobs, since the fire started during their shift?
I asked her if they had presented any list of which bungalows were occupied, to make sure all guests had been alerted in case the fire spread. They had no such list? I asked my girlfriend what the **** the guards were doing there and if this was an example of Dominican planning and efficiency in case of emergency. She didn?t answer me?
Next day, we left Las Terrenas.
It is such a pity? With just a little planning and a little effort, a place like Las Terrenas could be really nice! It certainly has the potential, with the beautiful combination of beach and mountains.
For me, Las Terrenas is hellish noise, chaotic traffic, overpriced restaurants with seafood that does not even come close to what I have enjoyed in Languedoc and a burning bungalow, with no firebrigade (no, they never showed!) and camp ?guards? that cared nothing if the fire would spread or if people would get hurt.
Maybe I fit better in an ?All Inclusive?? (But why go to DR and stay in an "All Inclusive"? They are boring!) Or maybe in Languedoc, where I plan to take my girlfriend on her next visit to Europe!
Before going there, I did a little bit of research and I also got information from Dominican friends of my girlfriend. So, my expectations were to find something similar to White Beach, Boracay Island (in the Philippines). That was (and still is) the place closest to my image of ?the perfect beach?.
We drove from Santo Domingo and as we reached the north, we started the climb over the mountain range to get to Las Terrenas. I have never heard my girlfriend scream ?Ay, Dios Mio!!!? so frequently before, as she did now when she tried to manouver her little Mitsubishi around and across HUGE potholes, while we were being overtaken by one overloaded pickup after the other, driven by maniacs, who apparently had no concern about road safety.
(I might add that my girlfriend is Dominican and this was her first visit to Las Terrenas. She had heard so many good things about the place and wanted to take me there, after hearing me go on and on about Boracay Island, Kho Phan Nang, Bali, Tioman Island and of course the fantastic beaches of Languedoc.)
Finally, we reached Las Terrenas and drove into the village and a total chaos! I think we had to ask 10 people before finding the place we were staying at. (To be honest, I have cleansed my memory of the name of the place.)
?Our place? was one of those typical collection of bungalows kind of places, with a combined bar + restaurant close to the beach. This being a tourist place (however, not an ?All Inclusive?), I assumed I would be able to get by without speaking Spanish. But no, no? I tried all languages I knew, but being penta-lingual didn?t help me there? They insisted on me learning a sixth language, so they wouldn?t have to learn a second? Sigh!
Amazingly, there was a dirt road cutting off the beach from our place, with Jeeps, motorbikes, people on horses and all sorts of traffic zooming by! Geez! Talk about ?pristine? beaches?
At night we drove in total darkness into the village for dinner. Talk about nightmarish place. More traffic than at Picadilly Circus on a Saturday night. Hellish noise from makeshift bars and pickup trucks with loudspeakers in the back blasting away deafening merengue and bachata. Some of the worst traffic offenders were quadbikes, driven by tourists who desperately tried to look like carefree latter day hippies, making an effort to break every rule about driving.
Then, when we had made our way back to the bungalow and turned in, I woke up in the middle of the night, by a kind of ?cracking? sound form outside the bungalow. I got out of bed and went outside. It turned out that the next bungalow, only c.75 meters away from ours, was on fire!!! I woke up my girlfriend and she ran over to the camp office to check if anybody had called the fire brigade.
Thousands of sparks were raining all over the area, landing on the thatched roofs of the bungalows. I felt the whole area was just moments from being turned into an inferno. I ran over to the burning bungalow. There was a camp guard standing there with a handheld powder extinguisher, pointing it at the fire,as if he believed he could put it out by threatening it. I shouted ?Anyone inside? Have you evacuated the other bungalows?? He just stared at me in his mono-lingual way?
My level of tolerance was not too high at that moment in time, so I swore at him and screamed ?Evacuate!!!?, in my ignorance thinking that ?evacuate? would be internationally understood. No such thing! I left the guy standing there with the ridiculous little extinguisher and started running to all the other bungalows to wake people up.
After a while, my girlfriend came back. We sat outside on a bench and watched the burning bungalow fall apart, while we tried to check where all the sparks went. My girlfriend told me that there were three guards at the camp office. They had called the fire brigade but were mostly worried about their jobs, since the fire started during their shift?
I asked her if they had presented any list of which bungalows were occupied, to make sure all guests had been alerted in case the fire spread. They had no such list? I asked my girlfriend what the **** the guards were doing there and if this was an example of Dominican planning and efficiency in case of emergency. She didn?t answer me?
Next day, we left Las Terrenas.
It is such a pity? With just a little planning and a little effort, a place like Las Terrenas could be really nice! It certainly has the potential, with the beautiful combination of beach and mountains.
For me, Las Terrenas is hellish noise, chaotic traffic, overpriced restaurants with seafood that does not even come close to what I have enjoyed in Languedoc and a burning bungalow, with no firebrigade (no, they never showed!) and camp ?guards? that cared nothing if the fire would spread or if people would get hurt.
Maybe I fit better in an ?All Inclusive?? (But why go to DR and stay in an "All Inclusive"? They are boring!) Or maybe in Languedoc, where I plan to take my girlfriend on her next visit to Europe!
