Some places look beautiful in photographs.
And then there are places that make you walk around constantly saying, “LOOK AT THAT.”

Punta Cana is definitely the second kind.
We came to the Dominican Republic expecting turquoise water, palm trees, tropical weather, great food, and a few days away together. What I did not expect was how much I would notice.

The plants. The flowers. The animals. The colors. The food.
The way the light comes through the leaves. The palm trees bending in the wind.
And maybe most importantly, how nice it would feel to have uninterrupted time with my husband.

No complicated itinerary. No need to race from one attraction to another. Just me and mi amor in a ridiculously beautiful place, wandering around, eating things, drinking things, laughing, exploring, and occasionally stopping because I have discovered another plant that apparently requires an entire photoshoot.

Sorry, babe. You married the woman taking seventeen pictures of a leaf.

Me, Mi Amor, and the Caribbean

One of my favorite parts of this trip has simply been getting to spend time with Keenan. Not parent mode. Not household mode. Not coordinating seventeen different things at once. Just us. There is something really special about getting away together and remembering how much fun it is to simply exist beside the person you chose.

Sitting by the pool. Having dinner. Walking around the resort. Trying different foods. Talking about absolutely nothing important. Having a drink while staring at a view that looks suspiciously like somebody Photoshopped reality. Those are the moments I think I will remember most.

Of course, we are still completely ourselves. I am wandering around photographing tropical foliage and searching the trees for bats. Keenan is eating baby squid.

So, you know.
Romance.

Everything Here Is Alive

One of my favorite things about Punta Cana has been the plants. And I mean ALL OF THEM. The landscaping here is absolutely ridiculous. Enormous tropical leaves, palms, flowers, vines, crotons exploding in red, orange, yellow, pink, and green, and plants that look like someone handed Mother Nature a box of markers and told her there were no rules.

Some leaves are glossy and enormous. Some curl around themselves as they grow. Some look painted. Some look prehistoric. Some look suspiciously like they should start talking. And naturally, I have photographed all of them.

At some point my vacation camera roll stopped looking like a vacation album and started looking like field research conducted by an extremely enthusiastic amateur botanist. Nobody hired me. I simply appointed myself.

These Crotons Are SHOW-OFFS

The crotons here deserve special recognition.

They are spectacular.

Some leaves are striped in yellow and green. Others are streaked with orange, red, pink, and gold. One leaf can look completely different from the leaf growing directly beside it.

Some of them practically glow when the sunlight hits them.

They look painted. They look like stained glass. They look like tropical Lisa Frank foliage. Obviously, I am obsessed. Glossy green shrubs also have new leaves still rolled into tiny tubes, waiting to open. Enormous leaves have perfectly organized veins. Plants with deep red stems and copper-colored foliage. Every few feet there is another plant making me stop and say, “WHAT IS THAT?”

Keenan has accepted his fate. Vacationing with me apparently involves waiting patiently while I photograph shrubbery

Even Paradise Has Brown Leaves

Something else caught my attention. Not every plant here looks perfect. Some leaves are brown. Some are sun-scorched. Some plants are dropping older growth. Some look absolutely spectacular at the top while the bottom looks like it has been through battle. And the garden is still breathtaking. Maybe even more so because of it. Tropical does not mean untouched.

Paradise does not mean nothing gets damaged. These plants get blasted by Caribbean sunshine, soaked by rain, whipped by wind, drenched in humidity, and battered by tropical storms. And they keep growing. Which brings me back to the palm trees.

The Palm Trees Mean Something Different to Me Now

I have been thinking about getting a palm tree tattoo.
After being surrounded by them here, I know exactly why.

Palm trees do not survive storms because they refuse to move. They survive because they bend. The wind can beat the hell out of them. Their leaves can shred. Their trunks can bow until it seems impossible that they will stand upright again. But when the storm clears, they turn toward the sun. And they rise. That feels familiar. Life has bent me in directions I never expected. I’ve faced storms I never would have chosen. Marks remain from what I have survived. But I am still here.

Still growing. Still reaching. Still finding the sun. So yes. I think a palm tree belongs on me. Not because my life has been untouched by storms. Because I learned how to bend without letting the storm decide where I stay.

The View Is Honestly Ridiculous

There are moments here when I look around and think, This cannot possibly be my actual life.

I am sitting beside an infinity pool. Palm trees sway beyond it. The Caribbean is peeking through in the distance. The sky is violently blue. There is a cold tropical drink in my hand. My husband is beside me. And we have nowhere else we need to be. That last part might be the luxury I appreciate most. We can stay. Order another drink. Talk. Swim. Walk around. Go eat something. Or do absolutely nothing. There is no prize for squeezing the maximum number of activities into a vacation. Sometimes the whole point is looking at the person beside you and saying, “Want to stay here a little longer?” And then actually being able to.

We Need to Discuss the Food

The food deserves its own chapter because apparently vacation Meig is unwilling to let anyone touch a plate until I photograph it.

I have eaten extremely well here. My braised beef rib was rich, tender, and exactly the kind of meal that temporarily ends conversation because your brain needs a moment to process what just happened.

Keenan has been the seafood adventurer. The baby squid was his. The salmon was his. Seafood curry? His!

I love seeing the completely different things we choose and getting to experience meals together. We’ve had gorgeous plated dinners, charcuterie, desserts, seafood, beautiful sauces, tiny garnishes, and dishes that look like somebody arranged every component with tweezers. At one point we essentially had what I can only describe as a luxury Lunchable. I fully support this category of cuisine. Everything feels intentional. Even when I have absolutely no idea what something is, it is pretty.

Cold Drink. Palm Trees. Husband. I’m Good.

There is something delightfully absurd about sitting beside a pool with a tropical drink while palm trees sway behind it. It is exactly the kind of stereotypical vacation moment that you think cannot possibly feel as good as advertised. It does. Especially when you get to share it with your person.

One of my favorite things about traveling together is collecting tiny memories that probably mean nothing to anyone else. The weird thing we ate. The plant I made him stop and look at. Something ridiculous one of us said at dinner. A drink we liked. A place where we sat longer than we intended. A tiny lizard that I was far more excited about than any reasonable adult should have been.

Those little moments become the trip.

Of Course I Found the Tiny Creatures

Anyone who knows me knows there was absolutely no chance I’d come to a tropical island and only pay attention to the pool. I am looking under leaves. I am looking at trees. I am watching the ground. I am inspecting flowers. Basically, if something is tiny, weird, alive, or has more legs than the average tourist, I would like to see it immediately. I have already found tiny lizards darting through the landscaping, and I remain completely delighted every single time.

I am also still searching for bats. Obviously. Everyone else can have the swim-up bar. Give me a tiny nocturnal mammal hanging upside down from a tree, and I will consider this vacation complete.

Punta Cana at Night Is Gorgeous

The resort completely changes after dark. The bright tropical colors disappear into shadows. The palms become silhouettes. Lights glow between the trees. The pools reflect everything. And suddenly the place feels entirely different from the bright tropical paradise we walked through that morning. It becomes quieter. Softer. A little mysterious.

Which naturally makes me think:
Excellent. Bat time.

Still looking. I have not given up.

Tiny Lizards, Giant Chess, Plants, Food and Us

One of my favorite things about this trip has been how much joy I am getting from completely ordinary moments. A tiny lizard. A strange flower. An enormous chess set. A weird leaf. A palm tree moving in the wind. A beautiful plate of food. A cold drink. A conversation with my husband. Walking somewhere without particularly caring where we end up. Nothing earth-shattering. Just little pieces of a life being lived somewhere beautiful.

I think adulthood sometimes teaches us to stop paying attention unless something has a purpose. But wandering around Punta Cana with mi amor has reminded me how much I genuinely love noticing things. And how much I love having someone beside me while I notice them.

Maybe That Is What I Will Remember Most

Punta Cana is beautiful. Obviously. The water is ridiculous. The plants are incredible. The food has been fantastic. The palm trees have somehow become philosophical. My camera roll is approximately 40 percent vacation photos and 60 percent botanical evidence. But when I think about what I will actually remember years from now, I do not think it will be one particular dinner or flower or swimming pool.

I think I will remember us here.

Me and Keenan. Exploring somewhere new together. Laughing. Eating. Talking. Sitting in the sunshine. Me stopping every six feet because I found another plant. Him inevitably waiting for me. The little things that happen when there is finally enough time to simply enjoy being together. Because the Caribbean is beautiful. But experiencing it beside someone you love? That is the part you cannot photograph. Although, knowing me, I am certainly going to try.

Punta Cana, you have my heart. Now please produce a bat before I leave. I have been extremely patient.

See you guys for part 2, where we learn about this amazing place together.

Meig