Beach Life in Las Galeras

I’ve never been a beach person. Between the heat, blazing sun, lack of shade and molten lava-like sand melting the soles of my feet it’s hard for me to find much to enjoy. Applying sunscreen is sticky and stressful – missing an inch of skin means guaranteed pain and possibly skin cancer. I’m not a big fan of bathing suits, or sharks for that matter. Jellyfish are another problem. Sand is socially acceptable dirt that somehow always ends up in my teeth. No… I’m a cozy sweater, snow-loving mountain girl through and through. So every time Charlie suggests we skip my beloved winter and head closer to the equator a little part of me is sad. Another part of me is thrilled at the chance to travel – wherever that may be. 

Travel is too great of an opportunity to turn down. Exploring incredible places, trying different foods, learning from other cultures and gaining new experiences adds richness to life and gives me more appreciation for it. I also know that the more I venture outside of my little box, daily routine and comforts the more adaptable and open-minded I become. This trip is proof. My attitude toward the beach has miraculously transformed. I see now that my negative view was based on the breezeless, sweltering, blistering beach of my childhood – Panama City Beach, Florida – where my fond memories involve watching Barbara Streisand movies with family and drinking wine at sunset with girlfriends; all the non-beach activities while nursing my sunburns. Amazingly, I’ve been living on the beach for a month now with a barely used bottle of sunscreen and no sunburns to report. I never thought it possible, but I’d also never been to the tiny beach village on the tip of the Samaná Peninsula known as Las Galeras.

I’ll admit, I had my doubts when we arrived to this dusty, one-road town that’s either falling down or being rebuilt; it’s hard to tell. Remnants of old concrete buildings mixed with a handful of thatch-roof, open-air restaurants and stores line the chaotic street full of beat up motorcycles, produce trucks and European tourists trying not to get run over. No one wears a helmet. Everyone carries a machete. And there’s always someone riding a horse. The single road through town dead ends at an abandoned construction site surrounded by a make-shift metal wall – the intended spot for future beach stores and fish shacks, presumably before Covid shut the place down for two solid years. Just to the left is an uninviting, muddy footpath, and just beyond that lies the reward for every hopeful traveler: the idyllic, remote tranquility of Playa Grande.

If I could design the perfect beach set up, this would be it. Buttery soft white sand, jewel-toned turquoise water, white sprays crashing on mountain cliffs in the distance, a constant ocean breeze rustling through giant palms full of coconuts and the best part: plenty of cool, friendly shade. There are as many shady spots as sunny ones but still more than the number of tourists; a ratio I can get behind. Every afternoon between Cora’s naps and most evenings when Charlie’s done with work we grab our blue towels and little plastic bucket and walk ten minutes to the beach. We never stay long – just enough time to splash in the warm mellow surf and get our toes sandy. We nibble on homemade pan de coco from the local ladies who fawn over Cora and watch the regulars play beach volleyball next to the expats playing bocce. Some evenings we split an ice cold Presidente from the one tiki bar and sip it from plastic cups while Cora entertains small crowds with her dance moves. We always leave feeling refreshed and content with our little piece of paradise.

I won’t say it’s made me a beach person – I’ll be ready to return to my crisp, mosquito-free mountain air – but the past four weeks in Las Galeras have been special for us. For the first time since traveling together, Charlie and I agree we see ourselves coming back here one day. After an entire month there’s still more to explore, especially when Cora is a more appropriate age for cliff jumping and off-roading up jungle trails to hidden beaches. Our time here was relaxed but we made some real friends and great memories, our favorites of which I’ll share in photos.