(written March 22nd 2013 in Playa Rincon, Dominican Republic)
I sit underneath a blue tarpaulin cover watching the turquoise Caribbean away to match the rhythm of the breeze.
I have seen this beach before. No, not this particular one but variations of it. In Costa Rica, in Mexico, in Thailand – there I have come across its brothers.
And yet, Playa Rincon stands out. It feels preciously undiscovered – hidden amidst the vast resorts of Punta Cana and Puerto Plata. Snuggled amidst green hills that line the Samana coast. I am lucky to have found it. To have come here. This beach is all mine to play with, to run wild on and weave my own stories in. Only a handful of people, 99% local, while away a relishly lazy afternoon. I breathe in the aroma of my meal – perfectly spiced chicken with fresh coconut water to top it off.
A 45-minute gua-gua ride from Samana town (which in fact, took 2 hours) and then another ride on the back of a motorbike of a local lends this destination its remotes and intimate. And the journey, adventurous.
Currently, I know not what I desire – wherein my core lies. And being here – cuddled in the arms of Rincon Bay – this fact doesn’t quite seem to matter.
Oh! To be Young! To be Free! Liberty at its best.