Photo by Cynthia Dial
Here’s my first impression. Arrival at the airport is the old fashioned way—you disembark the plane by descending stairs onto the tarmac. Upon landing, it is warm (polite terminology for hot) and the line of passengers to get through immigration/passport control is lengthy, spilling onto the tarmac. As one of the last to disembark, I dread the impending wait when I notice an attractive young woman at the base of the stairs holding a sign—with my name.
Thus my introduction to Tortuga Bay’s “VIP Whisking Service” begins . . . whereafter I am swept to the front of the line, through passport control, baggage claim and into a private car where I’m served an icy drink for the five-minute ride to the resort. Bottom line: Within 20 minutes after rising from my airline seat, I am checking into my hotel home for the next several days.
Is this service because I’m a journalist? No. It is because I am a guest of Tortuga Bay.To read more about PUNTACANA, go here.