The Bareclo Bavaro Beach Resort in Beautiful Punta Cana, Dominican Republic

Please to be allowing me to set the mood: You step off the plane after an unexpectedly smooth landing on a small, concrete tarmac. As you exit the plane, the climate sets the mood. The day is windy, but not always. Clouds hang and speckle the sky, but again, not always. You are in the Dominican Republic; rain is a passing shower.

Disembarking the plane, the line leads you to a thatched-roof building, and you understand the origin of the word TERMINAL. Before entering the, for lack of a better word: “building”, a few beautiful ladies grab hold of each arm and smile, speaking to you all the time in Spanish; and they are wearing blue, white and red flamenco clothes. A camera flash and you are finished, and on your way to another checkpoint in the procession.

Have your passport handy; you’re going to need it. The locals check your identification, collect your customs slips, and question your intents. Ten dollars gets you into the country, and a handful of change gets you a “gracias amigo!” from the steel drum band playing your welcome. The sun is out now, and the view is gorgeous.

Walking around the curved airport terminal, very much unlike anything in the United States, you may visit the luggage claim, the gift shop, or finish up at the end. Here you encounter a barrage of men yelling instructions and beckoning at you, all the while in Spanish. They hold up signs, showcasing names such as: TravelocityÒ, Bavaro BeachÒ, etc. You locate your driver, he loads your luggage into the bus, and you’re off.

The road is a two-lane highway, extending from the airport to the resort. You pass through small villages, with broken-down automobiles on either side; locals walk the streets in worn clothes and shoes-optional feet. This is third world to a tee. The houses are built out of plywood; boxy, open and pastel. There are no yards, only gravel and dirt. Some houses look as though they have been vacant for years.