Blink vacation

After a month of waiting for it to happen, it's finally over.

my second trip to bora - this time with nel, was way better than expected. being our 5th anniversary, it was high time we tried for a real honeymoon and what better place that we can afford than the one great beach she hasn't been to yet?

I was expecting a small crowd to join us on our trip since it was off-peak season, but then i realized while waiting at the airport that in matters like Boracay, there is no such thing as off-peak. More people than ever, foreigners especially, are avoiding the holiday season and coming to the white beach in droves during the months and weeks we locals are supposed to work or study.

I was watching a gaggle of Americans waiting for the same plane. I assume they were American, as they are the only culture i know that despite their skin tone, still firmly believe that buying native wear would make them blend in with the local citizenry. So here there are, happily congregating at the waiting lounge, wearing native buri hats and distributing local currency among themselves.

I tried to play the PSP i brought, but i can't help but observe. I then realized that this particular group of Americans were made up of diverse horror movie stereotypes. There was this varsity jock-type athlete who acts as the group leader, the brainy nerd girl with glasses, the cool dude with the close crop, the funny guy, the fat goth chick. Just add a token black guy and you have a recipe for a horror movie flick set in a tropical beach. I told Nel about my theory and asked her who does she think will get killed first. She brought me crashing back to earth by saying we're on the same plane and probably booked at the same hotel. Then, she took the PSP and told me if i'm gonna spend the time drawing up theories, she might as well play Loco Roco.

Choosing to fly to Kalibo and going on a hourlong bus ride to Caticlan seemed like a good choice during the time of booking, but now i think it's OK to go the Caticlan route. I mean, the land travel wasn't exactly peachy, and the Kalibo and the Caticlan route takes the same time. The
only tradeoff, of course, is the thought of riding a smaller aircraft.
Whatever.

A plane, a bus, a boat, and a minicab later, we arrived at the world's most famous sandlot and i wanted to lie down at the beach then and there. There's this small matter of checking in at the hotel and having lunch at 2:30 pm, so my foot in the sand near the water will have to wait. I was planning to try new places to eat but considering the urgency of the matter, chickened out and we ate at the first place i had lunch here. The food wasn't bad, but it takes ages to cook the seafood and the prices were murder. I hope that if ever the horror movie scenario happens, this is where most of them get massacred.

Next stop, getting that beach foot. Surprisingly, i was able to convince Nel to take long walks and she was enthusiastic to the point of removing her flips and letting the cool moist sand invade the space between her toes. From Station 2 where we stayed, we were able to make it to Station 1, where we spent a good part of the afternoon getting henna tattoos while drinking the island's famous shakes. I was hesitant to have my skin break out in rashes again like last year, but the opportunity to temporarily brand yourself like a cow is too much to resist. Besides, Nel already started hers on her hip, so i wasn't going to back down and got two. One is the customary star on the bicep and the other on the neck - the design which is no surprise for those who know me.

While waiting for the ink to dry so we won't have to pay ridiculous fines at the hotel for staining the sheets, we decided to go on a nice sailboat ride into the sunset. Paolo of Marketing told me before that Boracay isn't Boracay without the paraw ride, and i wasn't able to get that during my first visit. Now i made up for lost time by picking the right moment to take the ride - about 10 minutes before the sun sets. and what i ride it was. Somehow, that first half day was so eventful, i forgot about wanting to get drunk at the beach. After dinner, we settled for a few beers at a nearby reggae bar, but that the house singer preferred to belt out RnB that night. After two pilsens and countless guesses on what the song is, we decided to call it quits and get back to the hotel.


Early next morning saw us start the day with a heavy buffet and the excitement for one of the passions we shared: snorkeling. The first two hours were uneventful, as Nel correctly pointed out that we've seen some of the best spots and Bora isn't really known that much for the fish. As Edgar the boatman took us to Crocodile island, however, we weren't prepared for the surprise. There were a few fish i haven't seen before, and although small by Palawan standards, came in great numbers and weren't at all shy at coming at you.


Only the suddenly turbulent waves around crocodile island prevented me from completely enjoying the scene, as it wracked my insides when i climbed back aboard. Nel could've sworn she saw some fish eating what looked like scrambled eggs. I denied throwing up, but i was too shook up to continue the tour. Nel agreed that we had too much fish. Scratching his head, Edgar took us back to Station 3 and i staggered back to the hotel desperately in need of a lying-down.

After another late lunch, we spent the afternoon quietly lounging by the pool area and then headed off to the beach, where we spent the rest of the afternoon. I haven't fully recovered from my stomach-churning ordeal, but the beautiful scenery of white sand and clear blue sea somehow gave me back my sense of humor. The water was cold, but it didn't stop me from attempting my first underwater shots, courtesy of a waterproof wallet and a gutsy insistence that it won't take in water.

Gutsy? yes. Flattering? No. Artistic? Not even close. ..

we chatted up a bit as we watched the sun go down, and with seconds to spare, realized that we haven't really taken a sunset shot together. Shouting "Oh, shit! Sunset!" at the same time didn't exactly help. Grabbing the camera, we hurriedly made a deal with the couple next to us that we shoot them, they shoot us. As i tried to squeeze in an extra shot, the battery gave a mournful sigh and died on the spot.

That sunset will forever haunt me as a beautiful way to spend and end a day. i envy the people who have to walk this way to get to their homes after a tiring day at work. And i realized that the better part of tomorrow will be spent getting ready for the trip back home. We can probably just squeeze in some photo ops before boarding the cab, the boat, the bus, the plane then the taxi home.

Nel admitted that it was better than advertised. and while she had ideas about the beauty of the place, she wasn't prepared to be really awed. I have to admit that i was a bit jaded by the rampant commercialism of Boracay,but somehow, the beach destroys them all. The damn thing is so fine, so breath-taking that once you look at the calm waters lapping at the powdery-white sand, you won't be able to notice the gaudy signs, the competing hotels, and the ambulant hawkers behind you lurking about.

Like i said before the sad part of any trip is the fact that it has to end, and like the rest of us working stiffs, i have to pack my bags and face the reality of having a city job.With a limited number of days and lots of things to do, we sadly had to call it quits and get ready to go home. However, it was never an indication that the vacation was a disaster.

On the contrary, and since there were a lot of things we weren't able to accomplish - like listen to an acoustic set (preferably reggae) under the stars, me completing 15 shots at cocomangas, completing our boat tour, and eating chori burger - we made a pact to come back again. who knows? maybe even this year.

afterword:

The trip home was uneventful, except that we had to pass the towns going to Kalibo just as they were celebrating Dinagyang. The travel bag we were using finally decided to call it quits after a thousand miles of traveling, and its wheels literally gave way.

Surprisingly, the airport taxi (which i haven't used for years for fear of being mugged by insane and arbitrary fees) was both professional and well-documented, complete with a fixed rates table and a courteous driver. Maybe the country is getting better after all...

As usual, i became allergic to the tattoos,which i inadvertently scratched during one of my sleeping sessions. Instead of black/brown, they're reddish and raised. Would i get another one next time? Probably.