Date: 22nd May 2013
Today after breakfast, I decided to walk to Bulabog beach. I chose to stay at Frendz Resort because on the map it showed Bulabog beach was only a few minutes walk away. Bulabog is famous for its strong winds and therefore a popular beach for kite-surfing, wind surfers and para-sailing.
But when I got to the beach…
I even came here thinking I’ll go “under water and take awesome photos of people kite-surfing” and even try it myself.
I thought I’d see so many windsurfers.
I asked one of the staff at a resort why there was nobody at the beach. She told me the windy season is usually from November to April. So yeah, I was late by a month. She was right though, there were barely any winds to be felt. White beach was windier than this.
I decided to keep my bag under a shade and go for a swim none the less.
I would keep the camera in my shorts pocket for short sprints of swimming. But then after some time, all of a sudden… I couldn’t feel the camera in my pocket anymore! 🙁
I couldn’t believe I lost the camera I borrowed from friend, who herself borrowed it from her friend! I panicked and swam back and frantically searched the bottom of the sea bed. But I realized my frantic movements in the water made it harder to see the bottom. So I let the sand settle and moved slowly so that I wouldn’t create waves or ripples in the water. After some five minutes of increased heart beating, I noticed a bright yellow object at the bottom of the sea bed (maybe 2 feet deep?). It was the camera! I sighed a huge “phew” of relief and picked up the camera. It was absolutely fine and I could take photos as usual. I had enough of this beach and didn’t want to risk losing the camera again. I walked back ashore.
Back in my room, I was bored and decided to get some work done. Which was hard, a) because it just as hot inside as it was outside, b) one of my Swedish roommates was sleeping butt-naked next to my bed after a crazy night of excessive drinking. Then came his English friend whom I had met the night before. Today was the English
man’s dude’s 23rd birthday, and despite being “still drunk,” he wanted to wake this Swedish guy to call him out for more drinks. When the naked Swede wouldn’t budge, the English guy turned his attention towards me. We struck a conversation and talked about every random thing a drunk English guy could talk about with an Indian. Like asking me if I liked curry, because he liked curry too and knew how to cook it. Then denied he knew anything about cooking. Then talking about how much he loved Kerala (my home state), because he had been there. Then no, he hadn’t. All this was funny to both of us. Then finally after managing to create enough ruckus in the room to wake up the naked Swede, he asked both of us to join him for drinks later in the evening. I said I’ll “think about it” — when I actually meant “no thanks”. I worked for a while after the English drunk left and then decided to step out again.
As we went down I had a hunch this road was leading to Bulabog beach. If it was, I felt I wasted money by hiring a tricycle taxi to needlessly take a long route to get to the view point.
After yesterday night’s horrible dinner meal and today’s tricycle taxi ride, I was annoyed at wasting more money. Oh well, you learn. If you are already at Bulabog beach, you can easily walk up to the Mt. Luho viewpoint, which is more of a hill than a ‘mount’.
Back in the room, I dumped my camera bag and decided to go for a swim in White beach and watch the sun set from the waters itself. I went to the beach with only my beach towel and the underwater camera.
For all its commercial developments and expensive, well, everything, Boracay does have some very nice swimming beaches. Puka beach is lovely, and the freakin’ long White beach is, for a good 300 metres from shore, still not too deep. And unlike Phuket‘s crowded beaches, the water at White beach is still pretty clear. Of course, it’s only after a Filipina researcher and friend, who told me about the ugly side of Boracay’s tourism, that I realized I probably won’t come back. Corruption and greed has impacted the native tribes and the very same are now fighting for their land. In a corrupt country, stories like this are all too common — India is no different. I already felt I have seen pretty much all that has to be seen on Boracay island. And in some ways, I was kind of yearning for a return to modern, city comfort. I was tired of washing off the sand on my feet, and elsewhere. The humidity too made me yearn for tomorrow when I could finally check out, catch a flight to Clark, and I could check-in to a hotel with air-conditioning!
I ended the night finishing up some more work because I wouldn’t get internet until I landed and checked into my hotel at Angeles City tomorrow evening. Around midnight, back in my room, I met my Swedish roommate again. I asked him where the Brit was and he told me “by the stairs”. Unfortunately the ‘birthday Brit’ failed the shooters challenge and completely passed out after the fifth shot. He then had to be carried back by his friends, and the Swede had the tough challenge of trying to get him up the stairs to his room. Eventually they gave up on the Brit and just left him there. As funny as this story may sound, it’s this level of drunken behaviour that is often cited as one of the many disdains towards backpacker tourism. Oh well, staying at hostels has given me enough stories worth telling — both good and bad.
Next post(s) in this series:
Previous posts in this series: