Remembrance of Eating Non-Stop --- Bacolod

One long, uninterrupted meal, that was what the Bacolod trip was all about. We never had time to build up an appetite -- just enough to digest one delicious meal before it was time to indulge in another. And indulge we did!

The feasting was punctuated with some sight-seeing: I seem to remember visits to a spectacular ruin; a beautiful white sand bar; a re-enactment of a revolutionary battle, fleeting scenes accompanied by the strains of a brass band and announcements of "Welcome, Mrs. Celeste Legaspi Gallardo". Smiling faces emerge out of food-induced stupor, offering us kakanins, sumans, piyayas, a "light" snack of arroz valenciana or an "appetizer" of chicken inasal. To be digested super-quickly because an hour later there would be a 9-course degustation ... or a seafood feast ... or 15 varieties of adobo.

Aaaaaaah, the Bacolod (burp) experience ... it's enough to give one indigestion, and be hospitalized for it, as well!

Boracay -- Places to go on a rainy day

When we tired of sitting on the beach, we walked to that abomination, D’Mall, something I had sworn I would never patronize but that turned out to be quite useful in The Time of Habagat. We had some really good Italian food in Arya, did some shopping, admired the ferris wheel and climbing wall, mingled with the crowds of Koreans, then set out to find Real Foods, a holdover from the days when Boracay was still quaint and nipa-roofed. After a search – the beachfront establishments change all the time, but we were hungering for their uniquely delicious kalamansi muffins and persevered – we found it. It hadn’t changed a bit in 10 years, but was fast losing its beachcomber charm, hemmed in as it was with concrete buildings. It belonged to another era, overtaken by the concrete-glass-and-pool establishments. There was one right next door, the Astoria, and further down the beach, Estacio Uno. Both very charming and well-designed but merely small versions of the Uber-concrete-glass-and-pool-moderne-hot place that probably started the whole trend, Discovery Shores. Not for them the rustic or the tropical beach look … there was not a bamboo or nipa in sight … strictly for concrete-loving urbanites. I would call it the Makati-by-the-Sea look.

My favorite place to stay is Sea Wind. It’s still old-style Boracay …. Lots of nipa and bamboo, and a spacious beach front because its cottages are set back, not smack on the beach.

All the establishments had big frames of plastic sheeting to shelter their customers from the rain and wind. We decided to venture away from the beach and checked out a new place on the other side of the island called Asya. It was spectacular, in a dignified, quiet and serene way. There was a very zen-like entrance that led to the focus of the resort: the swimming pool, a circle reached by a long flight of stairs that descended, arrow-like, towards it. The stairs were regularly interrupted with landings that contained a small circular pond, echos of the big pool below. A narrow band of water bisected the steps, trickling down calmly, every now and then blending with the shallow ponds, before flowing on down to its ultimate destination. How philosophical it all was!

Once down, however, all philosophical thoughts were tossed aside while we got down to the serious business of ordering drinks, pica-pica and dinner. Tables were perched between the pool and the cliff, overlooking the white-sand cove down below and the sunset ahead. There was no red sunset to enjoy but large gaps in the clouds filled us with optimism that sun-filled days awaited us.

A Little Off-Track - Boracay in the Time of Habagat

We thought we were in luck when we arrived, as there was a little sun after, as we were told, days of rain. Yay! But, we were told further, another storm was on its way. The day turned out beautiful, in a blustery, windy, on-again-off-again half-sunny way. That huge expanse of white sand was bright and blinding even in overcast, grey skies. Every now and then blue skies would tear a hole through the grey sheet and the sun would shine and we would rejoice. The wind would continue unabated and the wind-surfers were out,

skimming the whole length of the beach in the shallow water and occasionally jumping up and being swept a few meters by the wind.

This is when I appreciated Boracay sand. It’s the best sand in the world, not just because it’s so powdery soft and white but because in the scorching sun it stays cool and on windy days, such as this, it doesn’t fly. These qualities are not often remarked on or appreciated but, for me, it’s what makes Boracay the best beach in the world. No hopping around on burning soles to get to the water, and no sand getting in one’s eyes whenever anyone passes by. The wind was fierce and in any other beach, we would be getting stung from all the sand whipping us by. But there we sat comfortably, watching the windsurfers and skimboarders, contentedly savoring the sunny patches and hoping for more. The only nuisance was the unending parade of vendors, offering sunglasses, hats and pearls.

A Little Off-Track - Boracay

This post is a “little” off-track. The truth is, it’s the rainy season here in the Philippines … not biking weather. Not for me, anyway. So we went off to Boracay. Well, most people would say it’s not Boracay weather, either. To go to a beach regularly voted among the top five white sand beaches in the world … during a typhoon? Well, we were hungry for sand and sea and the hotel was giving a good promo so we trusted in our luck and went.

A Look Back

Biking around Boracay, 1992

Boracay had developed and changed yet again. The first time I went, in the early 90s, people got around on foot or on motorbikes, or making angkas (riding shotgun) on motorbikes … 2 to 3 people riding behind the driver. Most of the restaurants were nipa huts. Our first night there, we took taxi-motorbikes and hung on for dear life as the drivers roared down pitch black lanes by the light of one tiny headlight. We ate pizza made by an Italian beachcomber in a nipa hut. In those days, when we went to the beach, we usually brought our own food: precooked adobo or canned corned beef or marinated pork chop. But in Boracay, one could have not just pizza, but flambed crepes! It was different and exotic. We walked on the beach to get back to the hotel, by the light of the moon reflected on the sand.

One of the draws of Boracay in those days was the topless bathing. Whereas the foreigners were drawn by the white sand, Filipinos were drawn by the topless foreigners. There was a bit of a drug scene, as well, and a great party scene (still is). Bazurah disco, an open-air disco under coconut trees, and a bar/raft in the sea were legendary party places that, unfortunately, I never got to see.

On my next trip to Boracay, nipa huts were disappearing, and people no longer made angkas on bikes because the tricycles had arrived. Friday’s was still the best hotel, but there were many more lining the beach. And one, Pink Patio, had a swimming pool, climbing wall and a gym. I hated it! Too citified! On my next trip, there was more concrete, a 300-room hotel and – gasp, oh no! – a mall. Now, there’s glass and chrome and some cars, a ferris wheel, billboards and fast food. Sigh. The chain eateries from Manila have finally gotten a toehold, for ages the local government managed to keep them out. Pancake House, Gerry’s Grill and, of course, Starbucks are all in D’Mall (Yes, that’s the name of the mall.). Every new introduction is greeted with horror as the beginning of the end, but despite it all thank goodness, Boracay’s charm remains.

The runway and downtown Boracay in the early 90s


The main road, right by Willie's