2010 has been a year of awesome vacations for Marco and I. Last month, we spent a week eating and shopping at Bangkok. This month, we were determined not to let the summer pass without going to the beach, something we’ve been too busy to do since last summer’s trip to La Union. I didn’t want to suffer another round of bumpy six-hour bus rides to La Union so we ended up booking three days at Coco Grove in Laiya, Batangas, which is only two or three hours away from Manila.
Marco and I didn’t intend for this trip to be a romantic vacation – it happened quite by accident. Some of my high school friends were supposed to come with us but they canceled at the last minute because the resort could only accommodate us on weekdays. The biggest perk about working freelance is that you decide when your weekends are. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to share the experience with your friends, unless you had enough foresight to book a weekend months in advance. Another thing about Coco Grove is that the rates per person get cheaper if there are more of you in the group. In the end, only one friend was willing to take three days off work but she didn’t want to pay too much for her stay.
The commute to Laiya, Batangas wasn’t as long as La Union, but it sure involved a lot of transferring. At 4:30 am, we got a bus to Lipa, Batangas from the JAM Terminal station at Cubao (P230 for both of us). When we got down at Lipa two hours later, we had to take a one-hour jeepney ride to the San Juan Public Market (P60 per person). From there, it took us another thirty minutes to get to the resort by tricycle, which cost us an expensive P300. I could kind of see why the trike ride cost so much; the resort is really that far, plus it’s not like there are any passengers coming back to town with the driver. For this reason, I would suggest that anyone commuting to Laiya spend around two or three days in the resort, if only to delay the inevitable hassle of commuting back to Metro Manila. Resorts like Coco Grove also allow day trips, which is a great option if you have a car.
Once I finally laid my eyes on Coco Grove’s grounds, I knew the commute was definitely worth it. The resort itself is dotted by shady trees and tropical flowers to evoke the sensation of a real tropical paradise, which went well with the crystal blue waters and the white-ish sand. As for our treehouse, it is probably the most gorgeous beach accommodation I’ve ever had in my life! I’ve never stayed at a treehouse before, especially not one so close to the ocean. Ours was literally a few steps away from the water, providing us a picturesque view of the waves and the sunset from the balcony or the porch. Unfortunately, this beach wasn’t very good for swimming; the shore is littered with seashells and the shallow areas are covered with slimy seaweed. But our proximity to the water also gave us one other unusual luxury – the ability to enjoy the sounds of the ocean while taking a dump.
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When I was a kid, I used to have these recurring dreams where I’d go surfing under cloudless blue skies. I have never gone surfing as a child, nor was I particularly keen about learning how to, but in my dreams I’d feel as though I were one with the waves carrying me gently to the beach. Some ten odd years later, I found myself marveling at the sport’s deceptive simplicity as I alternated between paddling out to sea and clutching at the sides of a surfboard, the sea churning underneath my belly like a hyperacidic stomach.
Last weekend was spent catching some early summer sun at La Union with the boyfriend, Helga, Peter, Jen, and three of Jen’s friends. In between sips of pina colada, naps under the sun, and the kind of kilig moments only beaches can induce, I toyed with the idea of trying out surfing for the first time. There’s no arguing that it looks like a lot of fun, but I know myself well and my self cannot stand very long on a moving object. I also had doubts about my learning curve and the ability of my smoker’s lungs to carry me against the current. Helga claims to have gone surfing on the first morning, but because she has no picture proof I’m inclined to take her story with a grain of salt. She did swear that it was incredibly easy, even for total noobs, and that I’d probably learn how to ride a wave less than an hour.
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I meant to publish this during the evening of December 31 but writing this entry took longer than I thought, and I was already late for New Year’s Eve shenanigans.
So I’m sitting here at the lobby of the pretentious condominium development my grandparents insist on living in when they’re at the city, getting a little bit of quiet before all sorts of new year’s eve mayhem covers the city in smoke and noise. Or maybe it won’t. For the first time ever, it’s raining like June or late May, which means that people won’t be lighting up as many firecrackers as they usually do. This time last year, Anne and I were holed up in my room where she was reviving my love and interest in slasher flicks, zombie movies, and horror film in general. I think we were watching The Hills Have Eyes, or maybe it was Hostel 2.
It’s crazy how 2008 just flew by like that, considering that December has been a slow, languid month for me. It feels like I spent most of my time sleeping, and my waking hours trying to do whatever it takes stay awake, simply because sleeping as much as I have been can’t be that healthy. Except for reading a couple of chapters on Mao Tse-Tung’s life on his birthday (December 26), I’ve had little interest in theory, history, and books in general. Maybe I’m going through another one of those moments again. I know I’m going to regret not being as productive as I should have been once I go back to school and remember that I’m supposed to be a graduate student who decided that her destiny lies in the academe. But I certainly don’t regret the time I set aside for the people who matter.
Photo by Fritz-paparazzi
One of this month’s highlights was hosting this year’s Man Blog Christmas party at my parents’ house. The Man Blog website and forums may be dead now, but my relationships with the smartest, wittiest, crassest guys and girls from the local blogosphere are still very much alive. Sometimes I think that maybe I should trade them in for nicer friends (just look at their gift suggestions for me this Christmas), but what would life (and my weekends) be like without them? Nice people aren’t much fun.
Just to show how much I love them, I pretended that I knew my way around a kitchen and prepared a fiesta ham and beer sauce for the party’s sit-down dinner. On Plurk the next day, Ade said it was the best ham sauce he had ever tasted.
Then we had what Anne calls the geekiest Secret Santa ever. Our presents for each other didn’t get any geekier than books, DVDs, gadgets, and ninja weapons (nunchucks for Jen from Bim!). Except for when Bim went down on Mike because Mike got the Gift of Nothing from us for the second Christmas in a row.
Exactly a week later, on Saturday morning, I woke up to a text message from Luis telling me to get out of bed. I was too sleepy to manage a reply, plus I was still slightly sore at him for ditching us last night. I was dying to get away from the monotony of my life in Manila, and Luis’s answer to my road trip idea was, “Nah, I got a couple of dates lined up for me this weekend.” Then I went online (I live on the Internet, pretty much), where Anne told me to get my things ready and help her look for a hotel in Batangas or Tagaytay. “Luis says we’re going on a road trip,” she said. “And he wants to stay somewhere pricey.”
“WTF I’m not paying for any pricey hotel,” I replied.
“Luis is paying.”
“K.”
After a stressful three hour search, we finally found a pricey hotel at Tagaytay that wasn’t fully booked for the night. Initially, we wanted to look for a place in Batangas so we could hit the beach the next day, but there were no vacancies anywhere. Anne suggested Puerto Galera, but Luis shot that idea down, saying that you needed to go on a one-hour boat ride to get to the island, a boat ride which he “didn’t quite fancy taking.” So cold, hilly, boring Tagaytay it was for the evening, then Batangas the next day. I was so excited – I haven’t seen the ocean in months and I miss the saltwater, sun, and the sand.
Three more hours later, I was done packing a backpack full of summer clothes, Helga finally woke up from her drunken stupor to join us, and we were on the road to Southern Luzon. By 9 pm, I was doing The Ultimate Hotel Expensiveness Test at 8 Suites – you know you’re staying somewhere fancy when you can jump on the mattresses without worrying about breaking your neck or the bed. AND HAHAHA NO PARENTS TO TELL ME TO STOP JUMPING ON THE BED WHEEEEE.
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