There’s dancing in the streets
Carnival season in the Dominican Republic is the perfect time to brush up those Latin dance moves, writes Neil Geraghty
Lost for something to do on a Thursday evening in Santo Domingo? Then make a beeline straight for the nearest car wash! I’m taking a stroll down the Malecon, Santo Domingo’s glitzy seafront promenade, and the outdoor bars are filled with affluent fashionistas enjoying cocktails in the balmy Caribbean breeze. I’m sorely tempted to join them, but tucked away down a side street is a far more entertaining option.
Most locals can only dream of going to the Malecon’s expensive seaside bars, but help is at hand in the city’s car washes which double up as cheap and cheerful nightclubs. I’m in luck; there’s live music tonight, and on a ramshackle stage a band is playing a catchy merengue number. The dancefloor is packed and I’m captivated by an elderly couple who light up the evening with their effortless grace.
Some young kids also join in the fun and, even aged seven, they’ve already mastered the m erengue's complicated dance moves. The next morning in the historic Zona Colonial I enjoy a second dose of people watching. In the beautiful Plaza Colon I take a seat in a terrace cafe and order a frozen mango juice. The rush hour is in full swing which in the Old City means jumping on to your moped and having a breakfast on the go while you jolt along the cobbled streets to work.
Entire families often manage to squeeze on to these tiny mopeds. One passes by with Dad in the driving seat clutching a cup of coffee in one hand with a toddler balanced on his lap. His daughter, wearing a crisply ironed school uniform, stands in front clutching the handlebars while Mum perches precariously on the back doing the final touches of her make up.
Santo Domingo is the oldest colonial city in the Americas and was founded in 1496 by Christopher Columbus’ brother, Bartholomew. The essential layout of a grand central square flanked by a cathedral and imposing civic buildings became the blueprint for Spanish colonial towns stretching from Argentina to Mexico. The UNESCO World Heritage listed Zona Colonial boasts the oldest cathedral, monastery, university and European castle in the Americas, and when the afternoon heat becomes too oppressive, there’s no better place to retreat to than one of the cool, shady interiors of Santo Domingo’s colonial landmarks. One of the most imposing is the Alcazar de Colon, an early 16th c entury palace built by Diego Columbus, Christopher Columbus son, who was the 2nd Viceroy of the Spanish Indies.
In the early evening, when the sultry heat dissipates, tables appear on the pavements of the Old City and, in scenes reminiscent of The Queen’s Gambit, elderly gentlemen pit their wits against rivals over intense games of chess. Nearby, brightly painted colonial era houses are home to some of Santo Dominigo’s most atmospheric restaurants, and at Mesa De Bari I sit down for a typical spicy Hispanic seafood dinner in a patio garden ablaze with tropical flowers. I begin with a plate of empanadas which resemble miniature Cornish pasties and are filled with prawns in a creamy paprika sauce.
For the main course I choose barbequed grouper doused in a fiery chilli and garlic sauce which is mellowed by side dishes of sweet
I’ve a feeling my efforts resemble more of a belly dance than a merengue
earthy plantains, and rice cooked in fragrant coconut milk.
Many of the Old City’s bars have live music and after dinner I walk over to Cafe Teatro and join a studenty crowd enjoying 2-for-1 Cuba Libres and an evening of seductive Latin jazz. Much of the Dominican Republic’s coastline has been developed with large American style resorts, but inland, the towns and villages retain a much more traditional Caribbean feel. I leave Santo Domingo for the mountainous centre of the island and the first part of my drive passes through undulating lowlands where villages of brightly painted houses with shady verandas lie amidst lush fields of sugar cane.
Halfway to Santiago, the Dominican Republic’s second city, I stop at Miguelina’s Bakery, a well known highway cafe famous for its jalao, sticky caramelized honey and coconut cakes that are an irresistible accompaniment to a morning coffee. The cafe lies in the heart of the Dominican Republic’s tobacco growing region and at La Aurora cigar factory, I take a break to see how their world famous sausage shaped cigars are made. The cigar makers use fearsome looking see-saw knives to shape the leaves and work with such light ning quick dexterity that my heart skips a beat each time their fingertips get too close to the blades. From the factory I drive to the Highland town of Jarabacoa which has a delightful spring like climate. The town is situated in the heart of the Cordillera Central, a rugged mountain range where on the highest peak, Pico Duarte, it’s not uncommon to see dustings of snow. Jarabacoa is surrounded by mountain resorts which specialise in outdoor sports especially horse riding and white water rafting. I opt for a scenic drive down a meandering dusty track to the Baiguate Waterfall and I’m glad I’ve remembered my swimming trunks. The waterfall cascades into a shallow emerald green pool and the cool refreshing water feels sublime after the long hot drive across the island. The main reason I’ve come to the mountains is to experience one of the most unusual c arnivals in the Caribbean which is held each Sunday throughout February in the town of La Vega. The carnival is famous for its diablos cojuelos, teams of masked revellers who dress up as devils and roam through the streets carrying hardened cows bladders on sticks. These they flick randomly at anyone they pass and the air is filled with shrieks as they catch bystanders unawares. Craftsmen in La Vega spend all year under strict secrecy constructing the flamboyant devil masks and at the end of the carnival a prize is awarded for the best masks.
No carnival in the Dominican Republic is complete without chicharron, fried pork belly seasoned with lemon and salt. After the main parade, musicians appear, sound systems are set up and pop up parties erupt throughout the town. This time there’s no escape and as I pass a band, a woman grabs my arm and I’m forced to join in the dancing. I’m in luck: she’s actually a dance teacher and she quickly explains the fast paced knee bends and hip flicks that characterise the merengue. I’ve a feeling my efforts resemble more of a belly dance than a merengue, but judging by their smiles, the locals seem impressed and I even get an appreciative tap on the back when one of the devils runs past.
For more information on holiday ideas in the Dominican Republic visit www.godominicanrepublic.com