Wednesday, February 12, 2014

alter-native living: boracay

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

it was a rainy day when we arrived in boracay. i watched the propeller slowly come to a halt and quickly resented how unwelcoming the gray sky was. this was the sequel to our summer island trip—the first being too short, and perhaps too planned for my kind of getaway. it is not my thing to plan, but with two kids in tow my planner had reinvented itself into an austere, decisive, somewhat organized one, from something that impersonated the “dynamic” character of its owner. my earth angel would use the words “indecisive” and “convulsive”, really.

don vito ristorante

we spent the first two weeks getting our hands on seafood—a lot of it, and going to restaurants that we did not have the chance to try on our previous trip. big eaters like us really put food on top of our inverted triangle of activities.

i was raised in the visayas so i’m no stranger to boracay. i would like to save the story of my very first visit to the worshipped white beach for another post though. i always get giddy whenever i step back and recall those days when boracay only relied on the moon for light at night. 

we booked a roundtrip ticket to boracay in july 2013. we intended to stay for two weeks only-- for a come-what-may (weather wise) vacation, but that was not what really happened. 

one afternoon, we walked toward the tip of station three and found ourselves in a private paradise, walking past a couple of abandoned and almost decaying resorts.  the rock-ribbed end of that side of the four-kilometer long beach was not only beautiful but a welcoming sight after we walked away from a very busy beach at station two. waves splashed indignantly against the rocks as if in a rhythmic duet with the sound of the rains that came and went. a few times we had to take shelter under low-bending trees so our two-year-old daughter would not get drenched (but who insisted on running under the rain anyway). lesson learned: you can never tell someone to stay dry if he or she is in a swimsuit. 

that sunday afternoon we were finally able to do what we longed for the kids to do for the longest time—to stop reading about the good things from the books and start doing them, like picking up shells from the shore, burying their feet in the sand, running around like they owned the island and walking to nowhere and not caring where they would end up. 

that sunday would also have been our last day on the island. we (deliberately) missed our flight the next day and stayed for the next five months.

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