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RETIREMENT 101

Punta Cana, anyone?

January 31, 2016

Retirees dream about traveling to exotic destinations, but sometimes the cost of the trip can exceed one’s budget. Every Sunday, The Washington Post travel section features the week’s best travel bargains around the world. Last November they advertised that some airlines had a direct flight to Punta Cana from Philadelphia for a travel time of just three-and-a half-hours.

I figured come January I might want a break from the cold. After paying for seat selection and baggage on Frontier Airlines, our total for two came to $593.16.

Punta Cana, the easternmost tip of the Dominican Republic, abuts the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean. The Bávaro area and Punta Cana combine to form what’s known as La Costa del Coco, or the Coconut Coast, land of lavish, all-inclusive resorts. But we didn’t want a lavish resort, so we found a villa to rent on the website Airbnb in Bávaro facing the crystal-blue water for $120 a night.

For me, the excitement of traveling is about learning to navigate a different world than I am used to. We found our way to the local markets to buy fresh pineapples, mangoes and avocados the size of Gibraltar. The local beer was about $1.50 at the store. We could easily walk to reasonably priced restaurants for dinner, including Thai and Indian food.

Our host helped to secure a taxi to the local bank as Trip Advisor recommended using the local currency, Dominican pesos, to pay for purchases. Eventually we adjusted to the thinking in terms of 50 pesos being about $1.

We observed the daily work routines of a poor country. A thin man in his 60s would carry our lounge chairs out to the palm-frond umbrellas and every day we tipped him $2 as suggested by our host. He worked from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. every day that we were there.

We watched in fascination as a group of about eight young men sat on a makeshift barrier of sand daily to prepare for a day’s work in the hot sun. As tourists strolled by, each young man took his turn to approach the wealthy vacationer, and tried to lure them to visit the local shop to buy cigars, rum or bracelets. We wondered how much was the commission paid by the shopkeeper. How much money could each man make in a day?

Every morning while I drank my coffee on the balcony, I watched two workers carrying wheeled barrels overflowing with seaweed that they raked from the beach so that tourists could see the crystal-white sand. Load after load they lifted those heavy barrels and went back for more.

Every day we felt grateful for the warm sand, our dips in the calm blue water, and for being able to afford a vacation. For many people in any country in the world, including our own, travel is a luxury many can only dream about.

On this vacation, I was reminded of how fortunate I am to be retired and still afford to travel to new places.


Write to Lisa at lgraff1979@gmail.com.

 

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