Here's a reality check for the non backpacker type of traveler. The ones who always say they want to come with us. You know who you are.
There is absolutely no air conditioning and it is intolerably hot and humid. The humidity is so intense that it literally sits on your chest weighing in at 300 lbs.
Every time we leave the hotel and walk the main road in town we are approached by motoconchos and taxi drivers asking us if we need a ride to a beach or gift shop owners claiming that they are offering their best price today and that their items are practically free.
The cars and motoconchos blow by either without a muffler, blasting music, or running a continuous loop of a grating announcer's voice on a bullhorn, or sometimes all three.
There are no sidewalks and the roadsides are peppered with land mines of broken glass. In fact, there seems to be broken glass everywhere, including the beach which is crazy.
There is a lot of trash everywhere.
The restaurant prices are outlandish. Those fourth of July burgers the French people made us cost forty bucks. Just about any family meal we have had in the DR has cost us at least 30 bucks, with few exceptions. Not bad you may be saying, but this backpacker just can't handle those kinds of daily budget breakers without feeling some serious stress which always leads to being a mean mom and a grumpy wife.
The water in the shower doesn't drain, resulting in a perfect mosquito breeding area. The bathroom is literally a mosquito brothel.
The kitchen is sparsely stocked, so we have to make do with 2 pots and 2 frying pans, no hot water, and smelly dishrags.
A liter of orange juice is five bucks.
I am covered in mosquito bites and sand flea bites. I have sweated 65,000 gallons of sweat and still haven't lost any weight.
My children harass me constantly to use the iPad, and just like at home I say yes just to shut them up. Which makes them ask even more.
When it rains the water pours through the top of the east facing window, soaks the kids beds, and floods the floor. This usually happens in the middle of the night.
Speaking of the middle of the night...when Maya wakes up and crawls into bed with us whimpering mercilessly about how itchy and hot she is, she doesn't know to tuck in the mosquito netting, I am too tired to realize it, and wake to find a dozen blood engorged mosquitos that have been feasting on us all night flying around inside the net.
I don't have photo documentation of these trials because I am too miserable to care when they are in progress.
So, Jen, still interested?
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