Dominican Republic: I Told You So

“I told you so,” is all that came out, though I kinda wanted to say something like “Awww.”

A keystroking, pencil-pushing friend of mine had a nice little lump of vacation time saved up and wanted to take a trip. But where would she go for 9 days to get away from the boss she hated, her sister’s kids, and her unemployed roommate?

Me: “London, Paris, Barcelona, Montreal, Mexican Riviera, Madrid, Oslo, Lima.”

Her: “The Dominican Republic.”

Me: “Save your money and go to Miami.”

With several hundred dollars now missing from her account and nothing to show for it but photos of rum buckets, photos of her feets buried in sand while the tide rolls in, and cheap fabric she could have purchased in a swap meet, she regrets not listening to me.

“I mean, people make it look so fun in their photos,” she says. My look saying, “Mmhmm.”

I’m not saying it isn’t fun. I’m saying if you’re spending your own money, you can save a bunch by hopping a domestic flight down the street, or you can take that same lump and go somewhere lifechanging.


I’m the type to stand around the grave to watch the body lower into the ground. I ask, “how much was the ticket and hotel anyway?” She mumbles, “$950 for everything.” I go on to talk about how I visited 5 countries on two continents once upon a time for less than that, and food was included.


If you’re going to go, get OFF the beaten trail, and meet the locals. Sit in the kitchens, and the holes in the walls. Forget the sands and the liquors, and go learn something about this place you spent all this money on.

Carry On. Carry On.

Darnell Lamont Walker, a self-professed traveling foodie, has been found sitting at tables eating baby goat sweetbreads, drinking tequila, and laughing loudly with strangers. The writer, filmmaker, artist, and sometimes photographer puts happiness above all.