The Grand Flamenco didn't seem so big once I moved to the Barcelo Bavaro Golf Resort. While the resort has only 126 rooms, it's part of a Barcelo-owned complex that includes more than 1,800 rooms. At check-in I got a map and the offer of a $75-dollar-a-day golf cart to traverse the property and a free tram that cruises between hotels.
As a guest in the cheapest of the five properties (a double goes for $186 per night, although that price is pretty much beside the point except for purposes of comparison, since most people book package deals), I was entitled to use the facilities of any of the Barcelo properties, except the restaurants in the most luxurious of the hotels, the Palace.
Between hotel changes, I visited other properties. This was not always easy. The resorts are often rambling affairs a significant distance apart, if you're walking. And forget about driving: Unlike Cancun, there is no central road bordering the hotel district. Instead, there are a meandering series of roads without signs. Sometimes you need to take a taxi to easily find a resort just up the beach.
It's in the Details
Every property I saw was more luxurious than I'd expected for the price. All had well-groomed grounds with flowers and trees. All seemed clean. The staff I encountered were friendly, making me wonder if they are typical of Dominicans or only Dominicans in uniform.
The water at the edge of every beach area had a bit of seaweed, but someone was always on the beach scraping up whatever was deposited on shore.
But while the hotels generally have more in common than they have differences, I was immediately delighted with the 630-room Ocean Bavaro, and thought it a bargain at a rack rate of $184.
Stately pink flamingos hang out in a shallow man-made pond surrounded by gardens intersected with stone walkways. The architecture has a Mexican feel. I was so enamored with walls painted vibrant blues, yellows, greens and golds that I took photos of the colors, wondering if I could match the effect in my own home.
It became my favorite of all the resorts I'd seen, even though a couple of times I caught a faint whiff of sewage coming from somewhere as I walked the otherwise immaculate-seeming grounds.
The next day I checked into the Sunscape and found a new personal favorite. With 346 rooms, it was the smallest I'd seen. For the first time in five days, I suddenly felt a sense of coziness, and belonging.
I was met in the reception area with not only a drink but the world's best chocolate chip cookie -- the only food I was to remember from the trip a few weeks later.
I lucked out and got a terrific view of the ocean from my spacious balcony. But then my odds were better; since the property is smaller, a higher percentage of rooms are close enough to the beach to have views. And when I forgot something in my room, or left my sunglasses at the bar, a short walk fixed the problem, rather than a trek.
A hotel employee had set up a stand near the beach and was cutting luscious fresh fruit for the taking. Even though it was mid-afternoon, there were tons of empty beach chairs, and better yet, the beach had huge swaths of both sun and shade, my choice. In addition to the ubiquitous palm and coconut trees, the beach at Sunscape had lovely pine trees and loads of thatched-roof cabanas.
Of such small details are great vacations made.
Cindy Loose will be online to discuss this story Monday at 2 p.m. during the Travel section's regular weekly chat on www.washingtonpost.com.
