Protección de la Niñez y a la Adolescencia

estamos aquí con el señor Daniel Rincón Segundo Teniente, dónde le notificamos de la estafa que sufrimos en el Hotel Occidental Caribe estamos pidiendo devolución de nuestro dinero.

I was going to stay quiet… but I can’t.

I came to Punta Cana expecting beauty—and I found it. The beaches, the roads, the development… everything looks like paradise.

Until you try to actually access it.

I went to Playa Blanca and Playa Juanillo—both promoted everywhere as “public beaches.” White sand. Calm water. “Must visit.”

But here is the truth no one tells you:

They are not public.

You cannot just walk in. You are stopped at a gate. You are told to spend at least $50 per person just to enter. And during Semana Santa? Not even that was enough. We were simply turned away.

When I said, “But this is a public beach,” the guard looked at me and said:

“The only way to enter freely is by helicopter.”

Let that sink in.

A “public” beach… only accessible if you fly in.

At that moment, it stopped being about a beach. It became about something bigger.

How is it possible that in a country surrounded by natural beauty, even locals—and yes, even tourists—are blocked from spaces that should belong to everyone?

It reminded me of “Hawái” by Bad Bunny. The idea that paradise gets turned into something exclusive, something controlled, something that no longer belongs to the people.

This is how it starts—little by little. Access gets restricted. Prices go up. Gates go up. And suddenly, what was once for everyone… is no longer yours.

That is why people fight for their rights. Because if we stay quiet, the “big elephant” will keep moving forward—until there is nothing left for the average person.

Punta Cana is beautiful. No doubt.

But beauty without access is not paradise.

It is exclusion.

La compañia found trip de pinta cana RD no responde por nada, no dan garantia ni reagendamiento en su excursiones