Cabanas is on the north coast of the Dominican Republic and situated between the towns of Sosua (famous for SCUBA diving) and Cabarete, a windsurfing and kiteboarding Mecca. The resort lies on a secluded beach just a few minutes drive from these two hot spots known for their hustle and bustle. Thus we could enjoy the exciting activities and night life and still return to peace and tranquility.

Natura Cabanas is not a hotel. It’s a collection of a half a dozen unique cabanas. They range in size from a studio unit to two bedrooms, with capacity from 2 to 6 persons. All are designed to blend into the natural surroundings with thatched roofs and adobe-like walls. Each has a porch with either a hammock or a hammock chair. There are no phones or televisions or any of the other distractions to detract from the natural beauty of the setting. The rooms are cooled by ocean breezes and ceiling fans (no AC). The resort was designed and built by architect Pablo Garimani and his wife Lole, both immigrants from Chile. It also includes a pool, spa, yoga studio and two restaurants (one for breakfast and lunch, the other for dinner). Lush vegetation fills the complex: Centennial palms, almond trees and too many types of flowers to count.

We enjoyed a welcome cocktail upon our arrival and then took a stroll on the private beach. The sand filtered between our toes as the late day sun cast long shadows toward the horizon. Ahh! To be in paradise. We unpacked and meandered away along the stone paths through the jungle towards the dinner restaurant. A large German family was already in the midst of eating as we entered. The restaurant has a small menu. However, the chef prepares a variety of specialties each night. We explained that we were vegetarians and the chef said that it wouldn’t be a problem. We started with wine and bread, followed by an enormous salad and finally a vegetable tower stuffed with rice and eggplant. The Germans were chowing down on chocolate cake for desert. It looked pretty tempting. But I was already too full. We returned to our Cabana, named Laja, and sat on the front porch reading and listening to waves buffeting the coast. I thought that we’d have a tough time in the Caribbean without air conditioning. But I actually woke up in the middle of the night shivering and had to reduce the speed of the ceiling fan.

In the morning, we grabbed some toast and coffee and caught a cab to Sosua to go SCUBA diving. We dove in Sosua the previous year and had had a fantastic time - tons of sea life (eels, rays, schools of sergeant majors) and reasonably good visibility of about 60’. We weren’t so lucky this time. We did two dives. Visibility was at best 20’ and a layer of sand covered the coral. I did, though, see a big puffer fish at the end of the second dive. Back at the resort, we had a late lunch and then took another long walk on the beach. We considered going into Sosua or Cabarete for dinner, but we were both too tired. SCUBA diving just sucks the energy out of you. Thus, we dined once again at our cozy resort, having a pasta meal. As on the previous night, the dining process took a couple of hours. If you’re in a rush, Natura Cabanas is not the place. Everything moves at a slower, more relaxed pace, i.e. island time.

The following morning we awoke to rain showers with intermittent storms predicted for the remainder of the day. That put the kibosh on any plans to kite-surf or snorkel or dive. Thus I spent the morning and afternoon doing something I haven’t done in years... reading a book from cover to cover, an autobiography of Peter Hillary, son of the famous Sir Edmond. Karen attended the morning yoga class and then returned to spend the afternoon with a book.

The most comfortable place to read was the swinging hammock chair on the porch of our cabana. There was also a rattan love seat on the porch. Whenever I would get up from the hammock, Karen would steal it. Likewise, I stole the hammock whenever she made the mistake of moving. I tried to devise ways to get her out of the hammock. “Honey, have you seen the keys? Can you get me a glass of water?” My tactics fell on deaf ears.

At 3 p.m. we embarked for our fangotherapy session. The treatment started with alternating sessions of sitting in a steam room for ten minutes followed by a cool rinse in a shower. After three rotations, it was time for the mud. I went first and the masseuse applied the mud to my body with a paint brush. It was interesting to watch Karen as she turned into a sculpture with each brush stroke of mud. The masseuse wrapped us in white plastic sheets and led us through the resort to a private entrance to the beach. We assumed that it was a private beach. But it was just a stretch of sand about 100 feet from the main entrance to the beach. The masseuse told us to let the mud dry and then to go rinse of in the ocean. The mud dried unevenly. At one point we both looked like we were covered in spots. Once it finally hardened, we ran down to the ocean and splashed in the water like kids and then streaked back up to our plastic sheets.

We self-consciously returned to the spa (passing other guests and staff) wrapped in plastic and rinsed again in the shower. The treatment concluded with a one hour massage. I again went first while Karen relaxed on a chaise lounge. Let me just say that the masseuse has incredibly strong hands. It was the most intense massage of my life. She squeezed my muscles so hard I thought they would pop. And I felt like Jello when it was finally over. I showered again to wash off the massage oils as Karen went in for her session. When Karen finished I commented on the intensity of the massage and asked what she thought. Karen said that it was a pretty good massage and not that intense. Then she called me a massage wimp.

The next couple of days, we tried to take kite-surfing (AKA kiteboarding) lessons. The weather, however, conspired against us with more passing storms on the final days of the trip. We did squeeze in a wake-boarding class (the snowboarding equivalent to water skiing). Karen was successful in getting up on the board after a few tries. I, however, floundered around, got dragged all over the place behind the boat, swallowed a ton of salt-water and was never being able to stand up or get the board out of the water. But then again I’m a wimp.