Goodbye Bayahibe - Gone but not Forgotten

February 3rd, 2006
I knew the day was coming, when my home away from home would somehow vanish into hauntings of nostalgic memories. That said, anything I've ever written about Bayahibe, from the Life as a Local perspective, is getting chewed-up and spit out by ongoing development; far more devastating and eradicating than from any hurricane. During my last visit, I was bewildered to find that long-rumored plans were well underway involving capitalistic tourism at expense of the greatest highlight - the local people, and their simple ways of living. In the name of progress, there had been more changes in the year since last visiting than in the previous years combined, when stumbling into this undiscovered hideaway back in '97.

The new face of Bayahibe's coastal region is characterized by a growing number of European, Canadian, and American tourists and expats that have seized convenience of moving in and taking over, and they're far from finished. With everything seemingly up for grabs, an imminent domain mentality seems hell-bent for displacing the locals with an upscale crowd. Eventually the shores, from Parque Nacional del Este to the Río Chavón, will be a continuous sprawl of resorts, condos, casinos, golf courses, and an international marina, which is already in earliest stages south of the village. Engulfed in the middle, Bayahibe is destined to become the European luxury alternative to nearby Casa de Campo; one of the Caribbean's most exclusive communities largely popular with Americans.


Through this entire process, the easy-going, uneducated nationals are being pushed off their prime real estate; niggardly fortunes paid not even enough for relocating within the rapidly expanding village. Along the waterfront, buildings are sprouting-up at an alarming pace; inexpensive, hurricane-proof cinder block structures easily detailed with island elegance. Shopping plazas and apartment buildings were more than half-way completed during an extended stay.

The dusty main street has became a full-blown tourist trap lined with currency exchanges, shops, and even a 1-hour photomat. The locals have tried to cash-in on opportunities, and are largely failing to meet foreigners' standards except as indentured employees. Along sidestreets, expats have acquired properties, building large homes strung together with eateries, and internet cafes now everywhere. Beyond, large tracts are closing-in with condos, mansion complexes, and luxury villa rentals; the epitome of progress that's expatriated the existence of my laid-back, Dominican paradise into mere dog-years.

Quick Tips:

Rich Man, Poor Man
These days, there's nothing quaint or cheap about Bayahibe, and affordable do-it-yourself options are quickly being winnowed out in favor of opulence. Prices have risen with expectations; still a bargain if you're wealthy, but the days of inexpensive travel are long-gone! Entries detail what's left to the independent traveler for now, but even that is changing quicker than any travel resource can maintain updated information.

Proof in Print
The March 2006 cover of Caribbean Travel & Life heralded the Dominican Republic, which "now has nearly 70,000 hotel rooms; more than Jamaica, Puerto Rico and the Bahamas combined", and with plans for more! The southeast Caribbean coast is only the latest area engulfed by the country's booming tourism industry.

With reviews and mesmerizing photos covering Bayahibe, and the Coconut and North coasts, the author's portrayal stated - "A recent luxury trend has transformed the DR from the world's greatest conglomeration of cheap, Euro-style all-inclusives to the Caribbean's best-value resort destination." As contradictory as luxury, cheap, and best-value can be within the same sentence, upgraded resorts are still homespun compared to the increase of extravagant Private Communities, which is exactly where Bayahibe is headed.

Best Way To Get Around:

La Romana's International Airport opened in 01/01, and has since been feeding the Bayahibe coast in booming numbers. Heavy air traffic reveals demographics of tourism dominated by European and Canadian airlines, and private U.S. charters; covered with all-inclusive resort packages. Other flight options haven't increased.

American is still the leading US carrier with two daily flights connecting through Miami or San Juan. Service is usually behind schedule, with frequent cancellations from OSJ leaving passengers scrambling between La Romana and Punta Cana. Santo Domingo has reliable service, but it's 2-hours reaching Bayahibe or 4-hours to the Coconut Coast.

Resort travelers usually have pick-up/transfers included. Otherwise, taxis are only options for arriving at destinations. From LRM, the latest shared ride to Bayahibe was either US or RD900; a increase if paying with dismal pesos. From SDQ, a taxi to Bayahibe runs about . If needing to make this long-haul, Rafael Silva's Company comes highly recommended.

In Bayahibe, everything is still within walking distance, and the Bayahibe and Beyond excursions entry provides details for getting around on public transportation or by private hack.

The only thing certain about Bayahibe is that it can no longer be considered a budget travel destination even for brief visits; little alone for extended stays I used to indulge. Prices are steadily rising across the board, and that seems to be fine for the new crowd in town. With upscale apartments, condos and villas gaining momentum as preferred lodging options, travelers may want to think twice, and follow crowds to a nearby resort.

Truth be told, I loathe all-inclusives; catering to segregated tourists in lieu of cross-cultural exchanges that await independent travelers at economical prices. However, the DR's growing popularity is based on some of the most reasonable packages in the Caribbean. Ongoing development has competitively driven costs down even during high-season. With seven resorts along Bayahibe's coast, and with plans for building more, travel packages providing air, accommodation, meals, and activities are yielding more than trying to stay within the village, paying for everything seperately.

The greatest resource for resort travel within the country is this with information links, resort reviews, and Message Boards championed by frequent visitors impassioned about their new-found paradise. From the US, popular deals are coming through package tour companies, such as Apple Vacations. If nothing else, it's a sure thing based on what you'll questionably find in the village.

Googled availabilities for lodgings are second only to overnight developments; hopeful travelers continuing to write, asking about places I've never even heard of. When vision for Bayahibe was first shared in '01, by a well-established European business owner, plans called for waterfront development to extend inland to the village center, which would eradicate the majority of basic accommodations and Dining opportunities. Who knows what will eventually happen, but here's what's still available you'll never find on the Internet.

Hotel Bayahibe, and Llaves del Mar are the pair of locally-owned hotels, reservations now recommended year-round. Rates vary on season and length of stay. If you're good at bartering, you might get $35 a night during low-season. Rooms are basic with a pair of double beds and private bath. Unless you like frigid, paying extra for air-conditioning isn't necessary as even summer nights cool down where only fans are needed. Biggest complaints involve screened windows, and noise filtered in. Especially during major holidays, don't expect peace and quiet!

Inexpensive cabañas near the waterfront are slowly disappearing, and the majority now provide housing for growing numbers of resort employees. Trip Town and Francisca are still the most visible next to Hotel Bayahibe, but negotiable prices aren't much better than hotels.

If arriving without reservations, shoeshine boys or someone in the village center are still best as escorts to places you'd never find on your own. Tip them a minimum of 30-pesos for their efforts.

Breakfast at Julissa's, lunch at El Comedor, dinner at Issa Mar or Punta Cana, and late-nite snacks at Jose's Chimi Truck are still highly recomended for quality and inexpensive prices.

With change sweeping the area, my latest conquering blow was dealt when learning that Secrets had acquired the remaining stretch of dazzling public beach for private development. Details are sketchy for time frame and impact this will have for locals and independent travelers, but it can't be good! Once the resort opens, they'll acceptably follow suit by placing guards at their boundaries for prohibiting non-guests from entering; a direct violation of national law that's been disregarded in the name of tourism.

With Bayahibe's popularity as a beach and water sport destination, there's already speculation about how this will potentially deter travelers from staying in the village without direct access to public beach. As a Caucasian, chances are you'll be able to slip undetected through checkpoints for enjoying prime beach spots. Once organized, there's even talk of selling day passes to beaches at nearby resorts; something tourists are already complaining about thanks to boatloads of La Romana cruise ship passengers arriving on prebooked excursions. How this actually transpires has yet to be revealed, but here's public beach options available for now.


Narrow path along the shore, which passed from the bay area to the previous beach, had been primarily cleared of debris and filled with sand as potential crowd overflow; the indisputable telltale sign that the public was about to be displaced. Pictures might look enticing, but it's below second-rate compared to what once was. How long this newest strip lasts is anyone's guess. It runs along the village cemetery, which will undoubtedly be next to go so tourists aren't greeted by reminders of death, little alone vibrance of local life.

Disappearance of Bayahibe's public beach, at the same time a small swatch between southern resorts was claimed for the first casino, leaves the local population even more cut-off. For now, the only public beach which remains along the southeast Caribbean coast is the shambled Playa Caleta west of La Romana. Even its days appeared to be numbered thanks to ongoing coastal construction in the area.

Loss of the village's final crowning attribute ironically brings my Bayahibe rendezvous full-circle. When first arriving in '97, earliest stages of malcontentedness were actually brewing then, as a beginning to the end. For the rumored fortune of $98K, prime real estate adjoining farthest half of the public beach, and stretching to Highway 815, had been sold for building an all-inclusive resort within view of the village. Casa del Mar opened in '98, second only to the Italian-owned Club Dominicus Beach 5km south of town.

Now, with numerous complexes running full-tilt along this strip, which harbors some of the most placid waters in the entire country, what's not to enjoy? But these days, don't expect much basking unless paying for it while sequestered within the private confines of an all-inclusive resort.

If inclined to experience the Dominican Republic beyond the village, all of my Dominican journals have been accomplished as inexpensive day trips from Bayahibe, except for Santo Domingo which included over-night stays. Specific details on what to see, and for getting around using public transportation, are listed within entries, differences likely with increases on fares.

Otherwise, growing trend is to have these same experiences accompanied through land excursion companies that are popping-up everywhere. The majority of offices, for booking tours, are clustered around the motor-coach parking lot. Numerous others are scattered throughout the village. If this is a preferred method, I've no clue on which to suggest but highly recommend shopping around for best prices. Fifty dollars is a base- rate for half-day excursions including private transport and usually a meal.

It's hard to walk anywhere within the village without ongoing trip solicitation from student-types versed in the European languages, or English-speaking Haitians. If you speak any Spanish, you might find better deals from the locals, especially involving water-related excursions, and self-demeanor carries a lot of weight for determining prices these days.

Bayahibe is the water sports epicenter for this entire region. Aside from popular day trips to Saona Island, scuba diving has emerged as the number one reason for coming here. Casa Daniel has the best reputation, and comparable prices with other expat-owned companies. Their new "can't miss" location along the village waterfront, also sells packages for other types of water excursions.


Snorkeling is best around Catalina Island through excursions, but do-it-yourself opportunities still await 200 yards off the beach for strong swimmers. Any number of places rent gear if you don't bring your own. Unfortunately, coastal reef systems are slowly being damaged as development and water traffic increase.

Based on demand, the internationally-acclaimed Golf Courses, designed by Pete Dye at the nearby Casa de Compo complex, are now available for tourists that aren't guests or members. Tee-times and green fees must be reserved in advance. Also, plans call for a new 18-hole course to sprawl across the valley between Highway 815 and the Casa del Mar resort coast.

The area's other main attraction is still Altos de Chavón. Trips available may also include snorkeling at Catalina. Be advised that most excursions from Bayahibe involve a speedboat ride up Río Chavón, before making a strenuous climb to the cliff-top complex. If you've physical limitations, the above link has information on independently getting there by land.

Mini-van taxis cluster around the village center. Fares are often negotiable, and more economical for larger numbers splitting costs. If wanting freedom/flexibility visiting nearby cities, a lump-rate runs about what an excursion costs per person. La Romana has developed into a tourist magnet with upgraded shopping and sight-seeing. Higuey has also experienced a growth-boom, but retains more local flavor, safeguarded by inland positioning.

Less than 10-years ago, the obscure village of Bayahibe still fostered an undisturbed time vacuum. Preparing to enter the new millennium, this indigent area of the Dominican Republic merely existed with a remoteness usually reserved for National Geographic. Content to be survivors, not much had changed from when a trio of extended families settled here after U.S. occupation of Puerto Rico. Existence was simple for the few hundred inhabitants. Perhaps legacies of a land and people, with a mezcla heritage of Spaniard, freed-slave, and native islander, had already dictated fate.

After a century of unanimity, their whole world was about to get turned upside down thanks to the latest hybrid of antagonists armed with cash and deceit, not artillery. My fleeting decade here, during this zenith of transformation, has been a rare opportunity to witness current events, with grievous outcomes as predestined from significant eras supposedly passed. In the pursuit of progressive life, liberty and happiness, extinction is now lurking for the unpretentious lifestyle; the very least of casualties indicative of when the superior target the inferior, and their worlds collide.

Gone With the Tropical Wind
Fascination stems from more than fiction, but who would've suspected that Bayahibe was on the verge of a tale just as classic. It's no surprise that if ever attending a barbecue at the Wilkes', before the nights was over, I'd have slipped out back in favor of the slave quarters. And with all due respect, the village proved to be a brief encounter with the rise and fall of America's grand Old South, and for once seen from the secondary perspective.

With crude conditions except for a picture-perfect beach, the occasional traveler looking to drop off the planet had seclusion or inclusion based on desires while staying in the village. Adopted into a local family, tutelage was nurtured into a genteel way of living, where old-school rules preserved an idealistic community. Mutual curiosities spread with each return visit; indebtedness humbling towards these insolvent people practicing such cordial hospitality and generosity with what little they had. Zest of living for the moment, despite obvious hardships, was rejuvenating compared to life as a New Yorker.

Whispers were never shared involving construction along distant end of the beach, a brief walk from the village. For a people depending upon the sea as their lifeline, leisureness on the sands was rarely a preference, but misgivings were obvious when a trespassing boundary was drawn at the half-way point. Trade-offs seemed to pacify for opportunities potentially awaiting.

Fishermen were already abandoning colorful wooden fishing jolas in favor of motorized speedboats, whisking an occasional busload of Punta Cana tourists to nearby Saona Island. In hopes of keeping revenues within the village, a local proprietor began construction on Hotel Bayahibe. For some, the change was too much; all but punishable in the eye of wrath.

September '98, Hurricane Georges unleashed a fury leaving an omen of death and destruction along the DR's southern coast. What wasn't blown away, got swept out to sea from 4-foot tidal surges which submerged the village, and the newly opened Casa del Mar resort. With hardly any food or water during the month that followed, the people began picking up the pieces, determined to weather the latest storm. Enslaved to their naiveté, rebuilding Bayahibe this time would unknowingly be the catalyst as beginning to an end.

Once resorts on either side of the village were up and running again, the private utility company resumed work for finally introducing water and electricity to the village. After 100-years of living in a dark age, the natives were fully emancipated to realms beyond; finally able to plug-in to all they'd supposedly been missing. Social classes began to unfold based on which families suddenly had amenities, and ones that didn't. As if seeing things for the first time on a television wasn't enough of a wake-up call, the increase in travelers provoked a major shift in perceptions; just in time for the world to begin showing up at the doorstep.

Modern-Day Conquistadors
Even if the indigenous people had been more eager to welcome Columbus on the country's north shore in 1492, eventual outcome would still have been just as detrimental. Beginning Bayahibe's degradation with flip of a switch, 500-plus years of progress were unloaded on the village, which prompted a desperation to adapt that would have unravelled even the most liberal of societies.

The genesis of village tourism was embraced, and hardly a family didn't have a sign out front advertising inexpensive cabañas or home-cooked meals. Travelers were still hit-and-miss, and it didn't go unnoticed that most were European, and preferred services from expats of their own kind. The biggest economy boost was coming from busloads of Coconut Coast resort tourists shuttled in daily for day trips through locally-owned excursion companies, providing legitimate employment. Incomes allowed some to abandon the colorful clapboard shacks in favor of hurricane-proof, cinder-block houses, which forgivably altered quaintness.

By the time three more resorts had opened south of Bayahibe in '01, word was out that staying within the village was a much cheaper alternative, and opening of the new La Romana International Airport insured seasonal success for those which stayed home to prosper from what they did best; extend hospitality.

With opportunities knocking, some of Bayahibe's people were lured away for working in the foreign-owned resorts as indentured servants. Resentments were subtle at first, knowing that any paying job was better than nothing. Utility bills already had most living beyond their means; not to mention all the trappings which followed based on scandalous national buying-on-credit systems which destined most to fail. NYC's 9/11 tragedy impeded global travel, which left resorts and the village abandoned for quite some time. Convinced futures in tourism had been a cruel hoax, locals resumed life as they knew it.

However, movement among forming social classes wasn't the only stigma undermining village innocence. Further complicating the once simple life, steadfast elders clinging to traditions were disregarded by impatient youth fully exposed to corruptions of the world. It hadn't taken long to misconstrue that money was the root of all happiness. Rebellion was inevitable, not only from generational gaps, but through rude awakenings of just how impoverished their lives really were.

As momentum recovered at resorts, and with growing numbers staying in the village, the hedonistic lifestyle of tourists included opportunities through something Dominicans had long perfected; indiscretions. Not only could a resourceful character earn more for one escapade than from weeks of hard work, it was self-validation and opportunity revolving on a weekly basis. "Booty" was surmounting in more forms than cash; the successful even getting filched away to Europe and Canada on whirlwind romances.

Monetary tactics were more subtle than when predecessors first eyed these parts, decided the local population was nonessential, and slaughtered around 7,000 Tainos in 1503. Incorrigible differences, within families and the village, unknowingly provided a decoy for the opposition; first scouting through vacations, then returning to claim their piece of paradise, at a banishing rate proving to be just as archaic.

Apocalypse of the Tourism Republic
Bayahibe has grown to about 3000 where foreigners equally match nationals. On any given night, the colmado scene has as many tourists and expats as locals, fracturing the once close-knit presence of an inner-related community. Dominicans, from the interior where there are no jobs, are also flocking as resort "plantation" workers; lucky to earn US$50 a week for 60-plus hours of labor, and where discriminations are undeniable. With a housing shortage, tourist cabañas have became viable rental properties producing steady income, and resorts are even contracting homes as warehouse dorms where 25-plus employees rotate bunk-beds around 12-hour shifts.

Earnings still aren't enough to keep pace with rising costs of living. A 5-peso/15¢ increase on transportation or basic staples means nothing to the affluent taking over, but when a 10-pound bag of rice costs $7, or monthly electric bills run well over $100, most Dominicans are being priced-out of Bayahibe.

Opposition is mounting to no avail; irreconcilable differences in the name of hospitality where all has gone wrong. Survival has long been the forté of local life, but the beast of tourism is an incomparable foe that will ultimately conqueror. It won't be long until the people of Bayahibe will be as white as the resplendent sands they flock to, and anyone that doesn't own property, have a reservation, or wear an employee badge, won't be allowed beyond the gated wall which is sure to come–the ageless token that represents history's legacy for distinguishing between Us and Them.

Until that time comes, I'll continue returning to the village, but there's no going home. Progress is a peculiar plight; especially when tangibles begin to compromise wealth of core values and serenity. Nevertheless, I can't deny my people these costly opportunities. When the last of them goes, I'll go with them to start picking up the pieces, again.