Mythical Towns

     After a "fun day at sea"  (those are the cruise line's words, not mine) we arrived at our first port of call in the Dominican Republic, Amber Cove.  But you won't find it on any map of the country.  That's because it doesn't exist.  No one lives there.  In reality the closest town is Puerto Plata, about a 20 minute ride away.

     Amber Cove only appeared last October, the work of the cruise line to create a place for the ship to dock and for the passengers to be relieved of their currency at any number of gift shops, restaurants, beach fronts and bars.  Amber Cove, like all the other ports,  looks very upscale, clean and accommodating.  But realistically it is a closed community, walled off by a fence that surrounds the entire property.  The only way in or out is through a guarded gate. Entrance and egress is permissible only by producing a ship's card and a photo ID. And when the ship leaves port so do all the people who work there.

     We managed to negotiate a taxi ride into town for a look-see around and found a very different scene and way of life.  Our driver in broken English told us he would take us to see where the poor people and the rich people live, to see the beach and to walk around Parque Independencia next to the Iglesia Catolica, and of course to take a ride past the rum factory.

     After the personal guided tour I had some time on my hands and since it was just about noon I decided to look over the menu at the Coco Cana grill back in Amber Cove.  The Spanish speaking staff were all very friendly, and very young.  I ordered the coconut shrimp with fries and struck up a conversation with several of the folks working there.  The food was good and so was the conviviality.  I must admit, however, that their English was better than my Spanish.  I learned from them that the pay was marginal and the hours irregular.  But they had a job.  Many in Puerto Plata could not say the same.