alter-native living: boracay

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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sweet bella cafe at burgos circle, bgc

lunch was beautiful last weekend. we went to see “da vinci the genius” at the mind museum and headed off to forbes town, burgos circle after to have late lunch. sweet bella cafe is famous for its delectable cakes and all things sweet and nice, but which, ironically, we did not have the time to stay for. our 11-year-old was in a hurry to meet up with his best friend. they had not seen each other in three years or so, so it was really easy to give in to the plea (in exchange for a peaceful family lunch).

once in a while when you go out for lunch, it’s nice to have it in a quiet place where no one’s hurrying up to finish their food; or shaking their legs anxious to grab the bill and run; or talking with their mouths full—all because life’s like that. it’s a race and the one who can walk and talk with his food is always the winner.

we entered sweet bella and the waiter outside promptly communicated with another waiter through a two-way radio and the latter was enthusiastically waiting to seat us inside. impressive. you pay for that and it’s all good. i like being treated like an important customer sometimes because it is a good break from the queues that we have to experience in our very ordinary lives everyday. well, i don’t wait in line for my mother’s escabeche tilapia, and that’s a sweet fact of life, too. 

my boyfriend always takes his time when deciding what to eat. it is advisable to send the most patient waiter our way because i really mean that he takes his time. his lengthy deliberation with himself finally ended with a chateaubriand steak.

as of this minute i’m digging inside my purse for our receipt from bella cafe because no matter how wonderful and unforgettable a meal is, food names always manage to escape our heads. 

and now, the boyfriend officially declares throwing out the receipt that i was looking for seconds ago. we can always manage with photos, can’t we?

we have had other lovely gastronomic experiences. you can find them here.

A top Philippine women’s empowerment blog covering travel, style, fashion, opinion, latest trends, technology, events, manila, Luzon, visayas, mindanao, best asia blog, bipolar, anxiety, depression, enlightenment blog sweet bella cafe, da vinci the genius, mind museum, forbestown, burgos circle, the fort, fort bonifacio, bgc, chateaubriand steak, lunch, escabeche tilapia

shoe wish list slash must-haves

women will always have an affinity for shoes beyond the comprehension of others (unluckily) not diagnosed with shoe enslavement. as in many other forms of addiction, we salivate, palpitate and sometimes may suffer from convulsions.

my friend asked, “what is it about women and this insanity for shoes?”

i scanned my head for an acceptable answer but i could not find anything that would sound just to a man who, from time to time, needs to burn his wallet to buy his girlfriend a “much needed” relaxant. 

this was how far i went trying: “a pair of high heels might be killing me halfway through my day, but what the world only sees is the happy, content me. if there is one thing that magically erases negative feelings and thoughts, it’s shoes.”

my friend looked far outside the window and brought the cup of coffee to his lips. i knew he did not get the answer that he was looking for.

one thing is for sure though. you can never go wrong following a woman’s wish list. here’s a list made simple, and which also doubles as a “must-haves” list. 

suede booties

comfort and style equals a happy marriage for the tootsies

nude peep-toes

gives an illusion of elongated legs and goes well with all colors

ballet flats

a wear anywhere, everywhere, with-any-outfit kind of shoes

black city boots

for a classic comfortable, chic, cool look

canvass sneakers

never live without one

black pumps

for days when "sexy" becomes an operative word

platform wooden sandals

read about it here

A top Philippine women’s empowerment blog covering travel, style, fashion, opinion, latest trends, technology, events, manila, Luzon, visayas, mindanao, best asia blog, bipolar, anxiety, depression, enlightenment blog shoes must haves, suede booties, nude peep-toes, ballet flats, black city boots, canvass sneakers, black pumps, platform wooden sandals philippines

tory burch denim t-bar wooden wedge sandals

every girl has got to have one!

what fun and fearless pair of shoes do you have? i would not (in my rare sane state of mind) usually grab just anything from my shoe corner especially if i have my two-year-old in tow. if a pair requires certain skills, such as not tripping while wearing high heels, or in this case, not tottering while wearing a gorgeous tory burch denim t-bar wooden wedge sandals, then i leave it for my "me" time (which again, rarely happens). this pair is like the friend that you want to keep for life. they go with a great pair of jeans, skirts, even leggings and casual trousers, but only if you could pull off the look.

the tory burch denim wedge sandals do not only look sexy, they have in them the power to make you feel sexy. even if you have to wait in a long queue at the grocery, trust me, you'd still feel the most fabulous human being that ever walked the planet. the gold eyelets and designer-stamped loops complete the gorgeous look of this 70's-inspired footwear.

a must have? definitely. 

A top Philippine women’s empowerment blog covering travel, style, fashion, opinion, latest trends, technology, events, manila, Luzon, visayas, mindanao, best asia blog, bipolar, anxiety, depression, enlightenment blog

tory burch denim wedge sandals, footwear, womens shoes, girl shoes, wedges

what is your story?

let me travel with you...through your stories

i have weaved a hundred stories in my head. stories about me, my life, and stories that i wish were mine. i own a lot of stories but i get lost in my own plots. my mind is just as restless as the pen that i can’t stop from tapping rhythmically on my desk while i’m thinking. or daydreaming. i really can’t tell between the two sometimes. oh, the pen? no i don’t really write with it. i use it to remind me where i am at and what i intend to do, which i never get around to doing most of the time these days. i try to find the perfect words to write knowing that that is what people want to read. or breeze through. or whatever. criticism is a business that earns—monetarily and otherwise. in this day and age, bashing has become an official proof of income. the more insults you hurl, the more you earn. there are no proper mechanics to this but anyone who is living through this fantastic age of the internet knows what i’m talking about.

pour, stir. i sit listening to the hushing of the sea, very slowly sipping my coffee. then i realize that the thoughts that follow me sometimes are not my own. oh how silly of me not to recognize the humming in my own head. i am yearning , almost praying, to sit down with someone to listen to. i want to listen to other people’s stories—your story—whoever may be reading this right now. when you’re at it please do not be too kind to organize your thoughts. don’t sequence your life to make it sound unerring (supposing you think it is uninteresting) because i just want to listen to every little thing. i want to know who you are, where you’ve been, the different kinds of people that you have met, what kind of fellows  you loved sharing your coffee with, the food that made you sick, the book that made you cry, the train ride that made you want to jump out of, the thoughts that hum like a thousand bees in your head. i just want to listen.

and oh, i may interrupt once in a while, but don’t let me bother you. go on like you don’t hear me at all.

so...what is your story?