Stupid Dingo: Sosúa

We woke late. One could blame it on timezones, watches or bad habits, but in truth we were simply relaxed and content. Once up, we lounged around in our honeymoon outfits, better suited to the hot muggy climate, and checked up on the outside world via the iPod while planning for the weeks ahead in the Lonely Planet. By the time we finished breakfast, opting for the now familiar Rocky's next door, it was nearly noon.

Changing into running togs we began our so very American of pursuits, jogging. In the wet hot air our progress was not exceptionally rapid, but the foreign rhythm of our strides threw off the hustlers and we were able to enjoy touring the city and playa without interruption. We stopped at a few businesses, chatting up a German scuba operator about snorkeling later. Though we had every intention of returning our run left us sticky and lethargic and following showers and siesta we were surprised to realize when we awoke that we had missed our dive boat.

Looks like a couples commercial except...

Running Intermission

Sosúa Playa

We returned undeterred to the playa and negotiated a trip with another vendor in an open wooden dingy with six scuba divers. The boat took us out of the protected Sosúa Bay and around the corner into the open ocean where we moored at a buoy after approximately ten minutes. The site was called Three Rocks. Being new to all this, Shelly helped me with some final details before flipping backwards out of the boat. I followed clumsily. Donning my snorkel and hyperventilating a little through nervousness I copied Shelly and placed my face in the water.

I was immediately blown away. Fish were everywhere. It was as if I'd fallen into the National Aquarium. I had to check several times that they weren't nibbling on my belly and toes. The friendliest fish resembled angel fish piped in yellow and black. They were the most docile, staying close until I peered too far backward and took in a snorkel of water and coughed. Then they jumped away as if one mind but a hundred bodies. Underwater they were not the lone inhabitants. Neon blue fish of several sizes clouded the water, some like pencils and others saucer-sized in black with blue outlines. Very small fish in bright yellow schools darted about with purpose, keeping their distant from large trout-like fish with notched large yellow tails.

Shelly taught me to dive and I copied her movements with some success, though not staying down as long or mastering the nose-hold ear clear on my first attempts. I was able to dive down twenty feet or so and closely observe the coral and shier fish who did not stray from the reef. The coral itself was mostly brown shades with bursts of white and yellow. Most prominent was a large almost fairy tale-like mushroom-shaped growth where Shelly spotted an eel and despite my somewhat meek attempts never did locate myself.

For over half an hour we explored the area before Shelly, possibly on her fourth or fifth attempt, finally conveyed to me over my excitement at this new experience that she really had to chum - and now. She managed to swim to the buoy chain just in time to pull herself up so she could heave into the sea. Thankfully, we hadn't eaten since breakfast so her endeavor though impassioned was not that productive. Shelly at first attempted to reenter the boat, but I persuaded her that in these seas, which had gotten rougher, moving from near glass-like to now two foot swells, it might be best to swim to shore.

The swim took most of what she had and I don't even think she had the energy to enjoy the naked couple we interrupted on the beach. The beach enabled Shelly to relax and hang her head between her legs for the next fifteen minutes while I played childishly in the surf as my shorts filled with sand. The boat driver took pity on us and brought the boat to shore after the scuba divers returned. Or maybe they just wanted a closer look at the couple bathing au natural, but either way it was welcome and we tipped him favorably. Returning to Casa Valeria we found the bed and our second siesta of the afternoon.

We awoke just before sunset and dressed rapidly in some of our nicer clothes for "camarones circa del mar con guapa" as I updated on facebook. In slacks and skirt we sat down at The Waterfront as the sun sizzled into the ocean and misty mountain skyline. We had picked the evening to celebrate and we did over seafood croquetas, langostina (crayfish), camarones (shrimp), red snapper and sea bass by candlelight.

Presidente on a podium

Just Made Sunset

All Cleaned Up

Just Hangin

Thatched

Afterward, we attempted to mimic the previous evening's stroll only to be thwarted by a security guard at the all-inclusive. No worries, we spent the better part of the next hour in his company instead. Shelly and the guard shared an animated chat on the hurricanes, life in the interior and government corruption. I followed as best I could - at times more the rhythm of the conversation than the content. We strolled home relaxed, I possibly more relaxed than I've been at any point in my life.

There's more stupidity out there!