An early Christmas alone in Boracay

The news came on my 20th and most rainy birthday—an invitation to experience “an early Christmas” in Boracay.

 

A three-day trip away from the stresses, frustrations, and traffic sounded like Christmas, indeed, especially because I love that island. Its long strip of white sand holds good memories from two summers ago—the best summer of my life that introduced me to a number of firsts (like a plane ride), the calm before the stormy year that followed suit.

 

But part of me was skeptical about going this time. It would be my first chance to travel without friends or family. Though I liked solitude, taking a vacation without company seemed a weird concept.

 

Also, the trip was happening on a rainy December, two weeks shy of Christmas Day. I wondered: how would it feel being in summer paradise when it’s not summer, or worse, when it rains? Would I look like a fool, strolling along three kilometers of a deserted palm beach? Would shops be closed? Would it be too “probinsiya-quiet”? Would I enjoy it?

 

But I figured that these were petty questions, so I packed my bags and showed up at the airport. It wouldn’t hurt to find out the answers myself.

 

Return

 

While we were waiting to board our plane, the sun wasn’t smiling down the runway and our companion, Ms. Jingjing, happily told us—four writers and an editor—that the sun wasn’t shining on the island either.

 

But as our plane hovered over Caticlan, I smiled. The island and its waters were glorious under sunlight. It was the Boracay I knew and I felt excited to be back.

 

We landed in time for lunch and were taken to our host establishment, Boracay Garden Resort, a 200-room, triple-A resort right in the heart of Station 2. My mood perked up at the sight of my room—clean and all mine. I threw myself on the bed and it didn’t feel empty. I was in Boracay, alone but giddy (much so that I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face).

 

My days in the island went by with a series of activities arranged by the resort. While sleep and the king-sized bed beckoned on free periods, I resisted and escaped to the beach a few times. 

 

The three-kilometer white sand strip (one of the longest in the world) was festive with hints of the yuletide like a snowman on the sand and Christmas lights on palm trees. But even so, tourists still gave in to the unavoidable feel of summer. With shorts and slippers, I walked along with strangers donning two-piece swimsuits and trunks despite the cool amihan breeze. By late afternoon, everyone—alone, in twos, or with families—had taken their place on the sand, cameras ready to capture the beautiful sunset.

 

Downtime

 

There are a lot of things to try out in the island, even during Christmastime, but since I was basically alone, I chose to be a killjoy and aimed for the quiet. It turned out to be the best thing that came with that post-birthday, pre-Christmas getaway.

 

On Sunday morning (our last full day in the island), locals and tourists were up early to either hit the blue waters or go to Mass. My companions and I opted for the latter and went to the Holy Rosary Parish in Barangay Balabag, a 10-minute tricycle ride from the resort we were staying in.

 

Even when the Mass was in Visayan (another first for me), I felt at peace, but a bit startled by the kindness of the residents, who smiled openly and shook our and each other’s hands as we said “Peace be with you.” I have not been with churchgoers that friendly—ever.

 

By nighttime, my need for silence persisted. I had originally intended to walk to the bars at Station 1, but because it could be quite wild there (and I was alone), I went to get another first instead—a foot spa. Tucked in a quiet corner of the lively nocturnal island, I proved myself right: that shutting off the noises in your world feels great, especially when it comes with a foot rub.

 

Though sleep was pushing me back to my room by the time the session was over, I headed to the beach, ready to ruin my newly manicured toes. With the dim lights, the water looked like a wavy cream-and-blue illusion. It was closer to the shore, too, so I played chase with it for a while until it caught up with my feet. I let the water touch me and sweep away the words I wrote on the sand. It felt nice to finally get the good vibe that even a loud live band nearby couldn’t shake off.

 

I retreated to my room at past midnight and started gathering my things. I thought about my future trip to Boracay—how long would I wait to come back, who will I take along with me, or if I would do it alone. I wasn’t able to decide, but I figured that alone wasn’t such a bad thing. Everyone ought to do it at some point in their lives. –KG/TJD, GMA News