I’ve posted this before.
Dom Rep in February. Plane going out was delayed for many hours because they couldn’t open the hold doors and get the previous passengers luggage out.
Arrived very late at night and went straight to bed. Got up the next morning and it was raining, heavily. All trips were cancelled due to the weather, and for some bizarre reason the entertainment team cancelled everything too. You’d think they’d arrange games or something in the bar, but nope, they just sat around playing loud rap music all day. Anyway, it was an all inclusive hotel so we went to the bar, along with everyone else. I don’t think the entertainment team spoke great English because one of the songs they were playing contained the lyrics “ if you’re scared mutha fucka, go to church” they obviously liked this one, because they played it frequently. This was a family hotel by the way, we were alone, but there were many families with kids around.
So the first day passed in a drunken haze, and we got up the next day, raring to start the holiday properly. Nope, still raining, back to the bar we went, and back to the mouth fucka song. Next day, raining, mutha fucka song. Next day, raining, mutha fucka song, next day, well, you get the idea. By now people, including the kids were singing along. The entertainment clearly though that this was a popular activity, so played the song even more frequently.
Day five of the holiday was my birthday, so we got up and went to the bar for the daily group sing along. At 5pm everything started swaying, so we thought we’d drunk enough and returned to our room, our ground floor, beach front room, and switched on the tv. The Haitian earthquake had just happened, and the Dom Rep was on a Tsunami warning. We went to reception to ask what we should do, blank looks all around, so we went to the bar and a few told other people and word got round. Don’t forget, everyone had been drinking solidly for six days, so reactions varied from don’t give a shit, to complete melt down panic. We, and a few others, decided to head for higher ground, so squelched out way to the top of the hill across the road, where we stood in the pouring rain dolefully singing muthafucka for about an hour, before realising nothing was going to happen, so we squelched back down and went to bed.
The next day, the rain stopped, but the majority of the staff were Haitian and had relatives there, so were understandably very worried. It didn’t feel right enjoying ourselves while the staff were so upset, so the last week was a very muted affair.
Finally it was time leave, and we boarded the plane. There was a baby screaming just a couple of rows in front of us. The pilot announced we’d have to wait for a doctor to check the baby was ok to fly, this took an hour and a half. Finally given the ok, we started taxiing to the runway, the baby was still screaming. Some bloke jumped up marched down the plane and shouted shut that brat up or I will, or words to that general effect, in the mothers face. The father naturally came to her defence and squared up to him. The plane ended up going back to the terminal for aggressive bloke to be removed.
Never been so glad to get home in my life.