Dominican Republic Part 4

Hmm would have been useful if I actually wrote something before I posted this blank entry. Oh and I appear to have muddled up the numbers system. Well, not too bad. At least I am on firm mainland again, sitting in San Salvador and doing nothing but writing for the day. Last time I left off, I was heading back into Santo Domingo for my bank card, a poor, hobo, with no identity and many mountin problems.

The three of us left the bus and shuttled down to where Jose had told us to meet him. Was some random mushroom shaped seats that I would end up using as the regular spot to meet him over the coming weeks. Now my phone was not working either so had to get some officeworker to open up her premises and let me use their phone for free. When Jose met us he informed me the package had arrived. Thank fuck for that. I was now with the means to get money again, I had my lonely planet and I could prove to Panama that I'd had shots jabbed in me for Yellow Fever. Though the odds of getting Yellow Fever were not uppermost in my mind. We picked up some stuff at the mall and piled into a Carro de Publico. It was my first time in one of these, though they kind of seem natural now. Basically four people pile into the back of the car and two more take the seat next to the driver. So they can pack in 6 people to a normal ford escort size car and the third person in the back always has to squish in somewhat precariously. Still its a very cheap way to travel and is kind of fun depending on whether the person squished onto you is a cute girl or a fat sweaty man. We arrived at Jose's place and collected the package. His mum cooked us a really good meal and I would end up staying with Jose for 13 nights in total. His family was exceptionally good to me on the road and he effectively saved my arse in receiving the package and giving me a base while I waited for the painfully slow embassy to get moving on my passport. Jose ended up signing up for couchsurfing along with Joe and I think both of them will get a lot from it, as Jose effectively hosted me for 2 weeks and showed me around areas of the country and city I would otherwise have missed. I owe you one big time in Buenos Aires, London or wherever you need it. In the evening the four of us joined Joe over in the neighbourhood 'La Venezuela' where I bought a round of Presidentes now I had money back. We were also treated to some random stripping on the bars and it felt like I had staggered into an English stag do in full blown campery.

The morning came around and it was D-Day for the passport. I was due to fly tomorrow for Canada and so I would see if they managed to turn it round in time. On the way to the embassy I was gripped with that fear that cloys you when you have to take an exam. Weird. I approached, said hello to the security guard (by the end of this ordeal, me and him just started laughing each time we saw each other) and approcahed the desk with trepidation. Did they have it? Did they bollocks. Can they check on it? No. Can they give me any indication? No. When should I come back? Next tuesday. That killed off Canada. My mum still wanted me to fly out the week afterwards, but I had a feeling nothing could be guaranteed. They would prove fucking useless all process long. Now I was weighing up my many options, but it was difficult because I had no ideas what would happen, but I decided to head to Jarabacoa for a couple of days because I had missed it with the Swedes. I spent the rest of the day writing up the blog up to this point and then headed back to Joses. My mum was considering flying down but canned the idea a few days later. Looks like I was going to Haiti anyway, but for how long I did not know. I also found out they were making thundercats the movie and Spurs were still sucking. And somehow the Arizona Cardinals were on course for the superbowl. How did that happen? They suck arse. They may even win the thing tonight. I kind of hope they do now they have made it.

In the morning I grabbed a bus up to Jarabacoa. I was fucking shattered by this point. All the stress had worn off (from when I was moving on stress along) and had crashed my health with a heavy cold as so often happens. The city is nice and pretty in the mountains. I finished up reading Crime and Punishment here as I read the last 260 pages in one day. Really good book. Was looking to Marie-France for a pick for a new book. Interesting me and Dostoyevsky see eye to eye that you need something bigger than yourself in your life to find any kind of purpose or happinness. Its why all the philosóphers are miserable. The next day was warpping some ideas around in my head on another 20km plus hiking day and came up with the phrase 'that if you follow the logic of the philosphers you disappear up your on arse so far that all you can see of life seems pointless and shit'. Hmm I liked it more when I conjured it than I do now. Anyway as I jumped off the bus some guy offered to help me out with a hotel and internet and tours for free. I was too knackered to resist, so I allowed him to show me to all the places I needed and then ignored him when he asked for money, reminding him he had said it was free. Stupid people. You can't guilt me into giving you money. I have no guilt unless I think I have done something wrong and he clearly said he was offering the service for free. Sometimes I like playing deliberately stupid. It has its uses. Which is more than can be said for this computer's speaker systems. They suck.

In the morning after 14 hours sleep I got up and set off for the waterfalls. It was a 7.1km walk to Salto de Jimenoa Uno, which was used in Jurassic Park. The ticket included a non-existant guide (I think virtually everyone comes here on a tour so that makes sense, except for those of us who walk). It was nice to get out in the mountains, away from the beach for a bit and get to do some walking and hiking and some downtime. The first waterfall was pretty impressive but a very steep climb down and up. Shredded my energy and I was knackered when i got back up. Walking back realised another waterfall was on the way (Salto de Baiguato). Its meant to be shit but I went anyway to complete the set. After circumnavigating a huge puddle of water through creative walking and skipping past the derelict bombed out hut that I assume used to be the entrance I trekked to the second falls. I actually thought they were prettier and more interesting than the first one, but the view is kind of obscured on the walk around. I went off across town in search of the third one, but I think i went up the wrong road and ignoring the motorconcho man who told me I was going in the wrong direction (correct) and that there was no third waterfall (wrong), I succeeded in only finding a petrol station. I got pissed on by the rain and returned to the hotel to sleep.

In the morning I missed the bus to Santo Domingo and this computer just froze and threw me off it. Pile of pooh. My phone had been auto resetting the time to whatever it felt like and so it was either ontime or 45 minutes in one direction. It made it very difficult to time anything right, because I never knew which one I was getting. This time it cost me dearly and I had to grab a guagua to La Vega. In La Vega the driver refused to take me to the Caribe Tours terminal and pointed me in the right direction. A motoconcho driver told me it was the wrong way, this time I listened to him and ended up walking in circles before someone with a brain told me I was on the right track in the first place. I missed another bus and ended up getting eaten by flys before eventually making it back to Santo Domingo. I met Jose and his cousin and we took a bus out to Barahona to see Bahia De Las Aguillas, where we had planned to go on that original weekend.

The place we stayed had a cool little pet parrot, that was friendly though had had its wings clipped. The place was spacious and the people friendly. Although I did not warm to them too much. The old guy Luis was telling me about the ability of Haitian women to clamp your penis and about his 14 year olds who wanted to sleep with him. Bear in mind he's 59 and he was reminding me of Svidrigailov. His nephew and him took us out to a club where I watched people dance and we drank there for a while. There was one amusing dancer who looked like he was in between making love and having a shit. It was an interesting dancing style.

In the morning we headed out to Bahia De Las Aguillas and had struck a deal to only have to pay for the petrol. Although we paid more than the petrol, they discounted some of the price due to the drinking we had done the night before. I was realising as we travelled that I was going to function with just the one bank card now until Brazil, as Helen would have to bring the replacement card out to me. The nephew started off the first off his two bottles of rum as we drove down to the beach. He would get steadily drunker and more hostile to tourists and Haitians. I don't think he realised I could understand more Spanish than he thought I did. That happened to quite a few people on this trip. We managed to have a minor bump in the car, tapping another car as it passed. My second minor traffic incident on the trip. These bastards have now started playing incredibly loud crap music in the internet cafe so I cant hear what I am listening to through the speakers. We saw some cenotes, stopped for some scenery and eventually arrived at the bay. It is incredibly pretty down in this part of the country. The government does not allow anyone to build on or develop the land so its pristine and the colours are impressive. Bright red/oranges of the sand, clear blue/green water (you can see the bottom a long way out), contrasting with the brown cliffs and green scenery. The nephew even found and caught a snake (they are all non poisonous here) and we swam out in the waters for an hour or so. We had to abandon the car part way to the beach though, because the steep drop was worse than San Francisco on a pot holed dirt track. You need a really good 4x4 or a truck to take that on and even with a truck I almost fell out of the back of it on the return journey. We grabbed some lobster dinner on the border with Haiti and then headed back in the dark, while the driver continued to rant to noone in particular. Once we returned to the hostel I found out I had been the victim of 100 pounds worth of credit card fraud in Onnus bar where the cards were taken (fucking heavyweight drinkers they must be). Still need to contact the bank to sort that out. Also found out that an old school mate Tom Sawyer had been killed by a roadside explosive in Afghanistan. That kind of puts everything in perspective when I am worrying about a missing passport.

The next morning we headed back to Santo Domingo and I would have another date with the passport office. I had decided at this point to go to Haiti for only a few days, because I had spent a little bit more money that I thought.