February 25, 2025

The plan for today: visit the Cofresí and Costambar beaches to the west of Puerto Plata’s old town, then go to Cabarete in the late afternoon. I finish the morning’s writing efforts relatively expediently, prepare breakfast without delaying too much, but then am exhausted and have to lie down again, due to having been kept awake late yesterday night thanks to the neighbor’s blaring television.

Playa Cofresí looks promising at the outset, the car weaving along the sinuous road leading to the beach past relatively opulent residences, bungalows with small terraces and loggias set in landscaped gardens and dotted with stately trees. The residential complex is separated from the beach by means of a raised concourse enclosed by a stone fence connected to the beach by stairs and guarded by security, as this is a private club.

The residences where guests are housed are set to the back, the area adjacent the beach dedicated to groups of cushioned beach chairs, curtained gazebos, and rattan chairs, all intended to provided comfortable and apropos lounging commensurate with the luxury beach experience, the demographic evidently more select than I witnessed in Sosúa – and yet, when I walk from one end of the beach to the other and take in the scale of the Lifestyle resort, its vast size seems to reduce its pretentions at exclusivity to an experience that is far more paltry and trivial.

Playa Cofresí is reasonably attractive, although the weather is currently fairly overcast and throws a gloomy pallor over the environment. The attraction of attempting to socialize with people whose experience of another culture is limited to staying in self-contained resorts runs its course. Since I am heading to the beach to the north, it would make sense to leave Playa Cofresí on the north side, however, most of the beach is dominated by the Lifestyle resort, accessible to members only, and the staircases leading to the beach on the north side lead to private property to which access is also prohibited to the public.

While beaches in the Dominican Republic are public, you can see how private operators have created the conditions to effectively restrict access to beaches to their clients. In the long run, the place simply isn’t attractive – it’s not much different than being on a cruise ship.

On the main road, there are several attractive cafes and restaurants, but given the all-inclusive nature of the megaresort that dominates Playa Cofresí, I can’t see how people not staying at the resort would come for casual visits. Perhaps scattered locals and foreigners do come to this beach occasionally, knowing that they can only access the place from one point on the south side.

The walk north is arduous, as it takes me past the back end of the sprawl of the Lifestyle resort, far more gargantuan than anything visible from the beach would suggest, and also brings to mind the question as to what joy would be experienced by spending your entire time in what is effectively a gilded cage. Worse, the sprawl of the complex extends so far back as to be a considerable distance from the beach, meaning that for many staying in an apparent luxury resort, they have quite the trek from their residence to the beach.

A new obstacle emerges when attempting to reach Costambar beach – the access to the huge beach strip is effectively from the north side, as the outermost main road that on the map at least feeds into smaller roads leading to the beach is blocked or walled for the entire trajectory to the north. How utterly frustrating – another manner in which access to these beaches is subverted to the uninitiated.

Again, while the beach is public, restricting access to the neighborhood replete with luxury condos and houses to a single guarded entrance means that all those nasty locals and potential criminals would think twice about entering. And yet outside that road running along the periphery of the Costambar neighborhood, things look increasingly rough, with run down houses, broken down cars, and garbage strewn in the overgrown bushes.

Now through the gates that lead into the Costambar neighborhood, exhausted and dehydrated from the long walk and growing heat, the overcast skies from Playa Cofresí now well behind me. I trudge block upon block until finally reaching the path that provides access to what I take to be the beach. I see a sea of green seaweed coating the largely rocky, debris-strewn coastal strip. This is probably a fresh version of what I saw in the evidently untended beaches on the far side of Puerto Plata town, where the seaweed had dried and was pushed further back along the sand banks. The past year has seen a dramatic bloom of sargassum seaweed in the Caribbean, to the point that beaches are simply swamped with piles of rotting mass, a huge challenge for at least casual tourism – I image the resorts simply keep their designated beaches clean.

Looking at the map, it looks like this is the tail end of Costambar beach, while the beach proper is further to the south. Which means I have to walk even further; back to the road, one block after another past small, smart bungalows that are gradually weathering in the Caribbean heat and humidity. And there it is, from the road, a strip of pale sand, and beyond that, a strip of very pale aquamarine, screened by a handful of coconut palms and mangroves, with a small shack surrounded by a handful of tables spread out over a patch of sand, a smattering of locals and middle aged overweight Caucasian men gather.

Emerging into the open, an awe-inspiring scene appears before me, a deep beach of light-coloured sand, its contours arcing along the waterline, large swaths of water pale blue and emerald, indicating a shallow sandy bottom that extends some distance, very few, mostly elderly Caucasians wandering along the sand, and of course, the brilliant blue sky above, although the shredded cumulus blanket above continually threatens to interrupt the brilliance of the palette of shimmering blues and greens.

I spend the rest of the afternoon lying on the sand, tanning, sleeping, and doing very little, which is pretty much what people are supposed to do at a beach. It’s interesting how I have finally adapted to this canonical behavior in old age – most of my existence I have found it too difficult to sit still, but somehow, between my increasingly fraught diet, lack of caffeine intake and hot weather, am now finding it easier just to lie on a blanket and – well, go into the water occasionally, although despite the shallow water, it’s actually quite cold.

The bucolic vision of tropical paradise is enhanced by the gigantic cruise ship berthed in the distance, inside the bay that separates Costambar from the old town, the fortress erected on the spit of land jutting out from the ciudad colonial visible from my perch. Eventually, in the shifting hues of light and shadow, the marine monstrosity slides out of its berth and emerges onto the open sea.

A deep channel must have been dredged to the pier to accommodate this behemoth; it seems somehow miraculous that a vessel not only of such height can navigate safely on the water, its broadside effectively acting like a sail in the face of powerful winds. And as I enjoy two very tasty empanadas at the neighboring eatery, these winds come up with a power and ferocity that I would never expected. One of the large women working at the restaurant tells me these winds are quite common – and the place also gets very cold at night. So enjoy the daytime while you can!

I wander further down the beach, past what looks like a low-key resort composed of a grid of square, wooden, Caribbean-style shacks, cushioned deck chairs scattered in front along the untended sand, mostly occupied by elderly Italians. Not surprising, considering that the Mediterranean Europeans are at the forefront of knowing where to find quality for a low price. And the restaurant/bar is open to outsiders, unlike the gated complexes such as the Lifestyle monolith on Cofresí beach, not far from where I stand, but in a completely different world.

The foreigners who come to this beach are also a different lot, middle-aged Caucasians, but more adventurous, many of whom apparently live in the area. Happily, Costambar represents the highlight of the beaches I have seen in the Puerto Plata area, expansive, scenic, with an ideal waterfront, with a limited and more rustic level of development, a rich green backdrop, with relatively few people for the size of the beach – although this could change on weekends.

I don’t believe I will make it to Cabarete today. It has simply taken too long to get to Playa Costambar – and it’s quite a nice beach, far nicer than any of the other beaches I have spent time on in the last few days.

To get to Cabarete, I would have to take an Uber to the Ricardo Limardo hospital, then take a shared taxi to Sosúa, then another one to Cabarete, which would take at the very least an hour. I could just as well spend the last hours of the day on Costambar beach, then return to the town centre for a final stroll, although when I do go, outside of the Parque Independencia the town has a feeling of utter abandonment.

I imagine that it experiences ephemeral crowds if passengers from the neighboring cruise ship come in quantities, but otherwise … Getting a good coffee here? Good luck. Using the ATM? Also, not a good idea – neither of the two sets of ATMs in the old town accept foreign bank cards. Really, for one of the top tourist destinations in the Americas?