February 19, 2025

The long walk to the Caribe Tours station in Jarabacoa is somewhat demanding, the greater issue being the eroding straps of my backpack – if the already significantly weakened straps break, I will be in serious trouble. Of course, there are taxis here, and as I see on the north side of town, many motorcycle taxis as well, although I wouldn’t take liberties to take these vehicles with heavy backpacks, as would be normal in some Southeast Asian countries.

At the station, a chat with two young Frenchmen on a two week trip through the Dominican Republic. Then at La Vega, the wait for the bus to Santiago, and since it originates in Santo Domingo, it is unfortunately quite full, standing room only. On the upside, Santiago is not that far from La Vega.

The trip from Jarabacoa to Santiago is far from memorable, but that in a good way – traveling in the Dominican Republic thus far has been far from complicated.  Santiago is a large city, probably larger than any other town in the country, although nowhere nearly the size of Santo Domingo. The car-hailing app InDrive doesn’t work here, but Uber does – which means more expensive fares, but fortunately also means not having to deal with taxi drivers, the bane of traveling. I would love to be more open-minded and forgiving, but on the rare occasion I deal with taxis, the experience is typically not that positive.

The Airbnb in Santiago is a somewhat beaten-up affair, a two bedroom apartment in an apartment building complex in a working class neighborhood some distance to the southeast of the historic centre, but still not that far compared to the overall size of Santiago. The apartment has definitely seen better days, walls and doors pockmarked, with flaking paint, loose floor tiles, the kitchen with a particularly beaten up feeling. But there are upsides: AC in one bedroom, comfortable beds, ample natural light, a fair amount of space, private and quiet – noise can be a real issue in the country – and functional appliances, including the fridge, the stovetop, water flow, and AC.

The Sol restaurant in the historic district is one of a handful of eateries in the vibrant commercial/retail enclave where locals busily shop for clothing, shoes, cell phones, and housewares, hair and nail salons catering specifically to women, the restaurants modest but providing a solid range of local food that is tasty, filling, and inexpensive.

The Sol is a case in point – except that the flamboyant owner is French. He frowns on the idea of having come and stayed here over the years that he has – he could have justified an investment of a few years, but not 26! He provides a glowing account of the quality of the various preparations of chicken and beef in the buffet trays, underlining his ability to provide top quality with references to his cultural heritage – but his being French has no bearing on the quality of these local staples, now cold, but still very tasty, with the savory palette typical of Dominican food.

Santiago offers a refreshing view of the country, a large city that tends to be spread out and much more relaxed than Santo Domingo, with a historic centre that has a surprising allure. Much of its architecture is modern, but still built with enough idiosyncracies to be visually engaging, especially when set against the traditional residential houses with their unique heritage characteristics, including quaint awnings, wrought iron grills that enclose windows, columned terraces, and artfully sculpted stone walls and balustrades.

Many of the sightlines are unfortunately obscured by the thickets of power cables that extend across the streetscapes. Houses are built with wood paneling and shuttered windows, some with intricately carved fanlights, and are also commonly adorned with gable trim. While the Dominican Republic is hardly Colombia, with its preponderance of wall murals in cities, the occasional whimsical art tucked into the corners of buildings or spread across entire walls brightens up the urban environment and makes the visual field much more engaging. The regularly-spaced traditional street lamps lend a tremendous amount of character as well.

Spending even a limited time frame this afternoon wandering through narrow streets of Santiago has been revealing if not seductive, but with the limited hours of daylight left, perhaps I should cap the day with a visit to the signature monument of the city, the Monumento a los Héroes de la Restauración.

I ascend to the periphery of the old city, past dodgy, run-down commercial and residential buildings, the sprawling, fenced-in Parque Los Chachaces, across from which is the guagua terminal for vehicles heading to La Vega, then beyond a concrete escarpment, around which huddle a number of offbeat bars, the hill rising to the monument, where a completely different world opens up. The monument itself is a pale pastel square structure flanked with Corinthian columns on each face, the building acting as podium for a thick column that culminates in a bronze heroic statue.

The monument is surrounded by walkways on various levels, the upper ones blocked by the setup of staging for an event that will apparently be hosted by a tobacco company. The lower passageways laid out in concentric circles around the pinnacle are lined with shrubs and trees, and feature benches on which visitors can relax in relative peace and quiet and enjoy the views of the city laid out in the valley around them.

Staircases lead from street level up each of the four sides to the monument itself, and are actively used by a handful of men practicing their running skills by sprinting to the top, returning to the base, sprinting again to the top, and so on. A few other visitors wander along the paths, be they couples or families, but the park setting maintains a substantial sense of privacy, although I imagine on weekends and holidays it would be quite different.

The street level is quite a different affair: the boulevard that surrounds the monument is lined by trendy modern bars and restaurants offering a mix of typical American restaurant foods. This is apparently the place for locals to be seen, although once I have watched traces of orange brush the tendrils of cloud on the horizon and darkness unequivocally set in, it is time to buy groceries and return to my newfound home.

Given my experiences at the mediocre food stores in Jarabacoa, I would rather take advantage of being in a larger urban centre and visit one of the showcase Supermercado Nacional outlets to the east of the monument. Despite the darkness, I can see from large, bright neon signage that the entire area is quite prosperous, again showing the extent to which this country departs from the nominal Latin American environment.