1/14/17, “Of
Coffee and Cigars”
Santo
Domingo, Dominican Republic
As my brief
time in the Dominican Republic draws to its inevitable close, I am pleased to
report the two lessons I have learned about this city, two lessons that I
learned even before breakfast this morning, and two lessons that may draw me
back here again in a way that other places have not. The first is of coffee, that you never have
to walk far to find a place with a killer cup of coffee or shot of espresso. The second is of cigars, that bringing cigars
to the Dominican Republic as about as useful as bringing coal to
Newcastle.
That is my favorite part of
the Spanish Caribbean (and Central America, which, as part of the North
American tropics, is more the same than different). Every Spanish-speaking country in this region
grows great coffee, and they love to drink it, so finding a delicious cup of
local coffee is never a problem.
Further, every country in this region grows tobacco, though some
countries are better at it than others, and the biggest cigar countries
(Honduras, Nicaragua, Cuba, and the Dominican Republic) are all located in this
region. Here in Santo Domingo, they love
to smoke cigars, and almost every block in the Colonial Zone had some type of
cigar shop, where they sold either the big brands or, often, unknown brands
that they roll in the shop. It was
marvelous.
I suppose there is some irony
that I am writing this entry, though, while smoking a pipe, my 2010 Christmas
Pipe to be precise. It is the same pipe
I smoked in Kathmandu and Sydney at the end of last year, the same pipe I
smoked Quebec and Istanbul, the same pipe I smoked in Belmopan and, most
interestingly, Nassau.
The coffee and
cigar culture here is very similar to that of Nassau, except that tobacco and
coffee production in the Bahamas is entirely monopolized by Graycliff. While Graycliff makes exceptional product, it
is quite different being somewhere with a dozen brands of tobacco and coffee,
different ones at every shop, than being somewhere where one brand is king. That said, I would much sooner spend another
night at the Graycliff hotel in Nassau than come back here again. I have no plans to do either any time soon, but
these are the type of experiences I would sooner repeat than seeing Paris or
Rome again. Okay, enough of that.
After I closed last night, I could not
connect to the hotel Wi-Fi, so I had to run a signal through my phone, which
was a slow process. It was 3 AM local
time by the time, I was ready for bed, and I trouble falling asleep. I then slept fitfully through the night,
waking with less than 6 full hours of sleep before I had to head down for
breakfast. There was a bit of a process
involving the voucher for breakfast, which I purchased but should not have,
since it precluded me from getting the full menu. In the end, I did order exactly what I
wanted, the typical breakfast called “Los Tres Golpes” or “The Three Hits.” It consisted of fried plantains, fried
cheese, and fried eggs. I also, of
course, got a coffee to go with it.
There was a cigar shop next door with a roller sitting down inside. I picked out a cigar, which would serve as my
first Dominican cigar in the Dominican Republic. The brand was called Caoba. I had never heard of it. It was fantastic, and I lit it up and brought
it back to the table, where I awaited my breakfast.
The breakfast soon came, and that was my
first Official meal in the Dominican Republic, my 70th country. At this point, I would like to correct two
things from yesterday’s entry. The first
was that I had omitted a crucial part of what was necessary to say, “Dominican
Republic Complete.” It is necessary for
me to take a ceremonial picture in front of the national legislative building,
and I had forgotten about that last night.
The second was the country count in North America. It is 24, not 17, as I had forgotten to include
the 7 countries in Central America in my count.
That means, at the conclusion of a successful trip to Hispaniola, I will
have been to 23 of the 24 national legislative buildings in North America.
After breakfast, which was, reader, say it
with me, quite good, I headed back to my room to resituate myself and finish my
cigar. After my cigar, I headed back
down and went to the cathedral, the oldest in the Americas and the spot of the
WHS inscription photo. I lit up an H.
Upmann and navigated a bit of a maze of gates to get into what I thought was
the exact spot of the inscription photo.
Just as I was about to take my ceremonial picture, it started raining
and then pouring. I waited out the rain
and then went to take my ceremonial picture again.
I then realized that the picture was actually
taken from outside the gates. Reader, do
you know what that means? If I had
realized that at first, I would have easily taken my ceremonial picture from
outside the gates before it started raining. I navigated back outside the gates and gave my
ceremonial picture a third try. I got
the right angle for the back-facing picture, but the selfie was off, so I had
to redo it.
Meanwhile, I was approached
by a local who was far too helpful. I
knew that, the moment I engaged with him, it would leave my bankroll a bit
lighter by the end of the day. Reader,
he tricked me. I fell for it. He told me he was going to take me to the
Arturo Fuente factory. I told him to
wait while I got the perfect selfie and posted it to social media. Once I was done, I followed him. It was not a factory, it was a tourist shop
that sold OpusX at almost triple the price I spend in New York. I was not interested. I got two cigars I hadn’t seen before, plus
some souvenirs, along with some flag souvenirs at the shop next door.
At this point, I just needed my cathedral
souvenirs, but, apparently, that did not exist.
No model of the cathedral was for sale at any shop in Santo Domingo, despite
my new friend diligently helping me in my quest. I knew that I would have to give him a small
tip at this point. Our quest ending in
failure, he walked me back to my hotel, and I gave him a little something
before heading up to my room to resituate myself again.
I finished my cigar and went in search of
something called the “Tobacco Museum”, but it seemed not to exist. I had wanted to get another local cigar for
the last part of my mission for the day, seeing the National Congress building
and saying, “Dominican Republic Complete.”
I had a scary issue with my phone, but a reboot fixed the problem, and,
as I walked outside, I was greeted again by my new friend. I asked him if he knew where the Tobacco Museum
was. He said it didn’t exist, but he
would take me to a cigar factory where they roll the cigars.
I knew that this adventure would cost me more
off of my bankroll, but it would be worth it, I hoped. We got to the little cigar shop, and they
immediately put a freshly rolled cigar in my mouth, and it was lit just as
quickly. The cigar was so good (and
inexpensive) that I wound up buying a box.
I asked my new friend if he could take me to the National Congress and
showed him a picture. He said it was a
short walk, and he would walk me there.
That didn’t seem right, since I thought it to be 3 miles away, but he
insisted that the building in the picture was a 15-minute walk. I took him at his word. As we walked, he introduced himself as Eduardo
and showed me his tour guide ID card.
That seemed legit enough.
We soon
came to the building in the picture, and I realized the misunderstanding. This was the National Palace, not the
National Congress. It was the executive
residence, not the legislative building.
“El Senado,” I asked. He said we
would need to take a taxi, and he got a taxi to take us there.
At this point, I decided we would go for the
trifecta and take pictures together in front of all three branches of
government, which was easy enough, since I knew the Supreme Court to be in the
same complex as the Congress. My phone
battery was almost dead, so that would be the real challenge. We got to the Supreme Court and took our
ceremonial picture there, before going to the National Congress. This was it.
It would be the trifecta, just like I did in Lima, and it would be “Dominican
Republic Complete.”
We took our
ceremonial pictures, and I made my pronouncement. “That’s the trifecta, and that means,
Dominican Republic Complete.” It was at
this point that he scammed me. I fell
for it only because I was so absorbed in my excitement over my pronouncement
and in posting to social media. He told
me how much I needed to pay the driver, in dollars, which seemed a reasonable
enough amount for our round trip, so I handed Eduardo an American banknote of
slightly more than he requested. He asked
for it in pesos instead, so I gave him the equivalent banknote of pesos, which
was actually slightly more, almost double the amount of the requested taxi
fare. He said he needed another
banknote. Wait, what? No, that couldn’t be right.
So absorbed in my social media posts, I
figured I had been doing the math wrong and gave him the second banknote. As soon as I finished my post, I realized I
had been scammed. It was a small amount,
but it stung nonetheless. I also knew I
would not be getting that banknote back.
These taxis have no meters, and I was in a lightly trafficked area with
less than 5% battery on my phone. He
walked over to the taxi while I was still posting on social media, and I’m sure
he kept one of those two banknotes for himself.
We took the taxi back towards my hotel, and he had the driver drop us
off several blocks from the hotel so that he could show me a restaurant where I
should go for dinner and where surely he would receive a commission if I did. Meanwhile, he asked me for a very large tip,
a specific amount, double what I had been planning to give him. I might have given it to him if he hadn’t
screwed me with the taxi fare, but the amount that I gave him evened that
out. The second banknote from the taxi “fare”
plus what I actually did give him was the equivalent of what he had asked.
I then went up to my room and plugged my
phone in the charger, it now at 1%, and crashed. I woke up in time for an earlier dinner, but
I went to the cigar store from this morning to get a couple of boxes
first. I had chosen a highly rated
restaurant on Tripadvisor, where I could get local specialties. I walked over there and reviewed the
menu. The house specialty was stewed
crab, and it came with rice and beans. The
national dish of the Dominican Republic is “Las Banderas,” which is just meat
(any meat) with rice and beans. This
would work well.
He told me to go
upstairs, but every table upstairs was either occupied or had dirty dishes from
the previous diner. That was a major red
flag. I almost walked out. Instead, I sat downstairs and ordered what I
mentioned above, along with rum and sparkling water and a fried beef appetizer. The meal was disappointing, but it served its
purpose. The rum was the best part. It took way too long to get my check.
After dinner, I headed back to my hotel, stopping
at another cigar store on the way, where I had intended do my “How they smoke
cigars in” post, but, for various reasons, it would not quite work, so I
instead just got a cigar to go. I headed
back to my room and, once more, resituated myself before going back downstairs,
where I sat down in view of the cathedral, lit up my 2010 Christmas Pipe, and
proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish
early before I, again, resituate myself and head out for the evening to see
what kind of adventures I can find.
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