Don’t Call It Bora, the Locals Will Want to Hurt You

The first time I was there I was aching to go home by the third day. But then I was with half the Espinosa kin, and although my youngest tita was all for banana boat rides and all the other touristy ‘adventures’ required of beach expeditions, there also was my mother, her presence circling like a hawk, censoring all forms of fun.

This time I was with my liquor-starved, work-hating, beach-happy bank friends. That’s a great combination of values. We were drinking the first night, in a bar on beanies in the sand. Fun. The second night (ehem, as early as four pm), I refuse to say that I was drunk, but I was definitely mighty dizzy. Kudos to the Mango Margarita and the Barlo Mojito AND the killer Jello Shot. Thanks to the sea for turning the dizziness to a mild buzzing. Apparently night-swimming helps tune down the ‘amats’.

Important disclaimer: swim with friends who can babysit you kindly.

Mark: Angie, I left my glasses on the chair. Guide me, it’s dark I can’t see.

Me: Marky, I don’t think I can guide you very well since I’m really really dizzy.

Marky: Oh no!

Me: Oh look I see three floating dots!

Marky: I only see two floating dots! (Still walking on the sand in the dark, clutching hands really tight and wobbling only slightly)

Me: No, look, three bobbing heads! People we know!

Mark: No, only two… ooh okay I see them now. gaahhh water!!!

It was a fun swim. It’s good to know I still walk straight AND talk sense despite all the body-warming alcohol. As the wise bar tender said, “sayang naman ung bayad sa ininom kung hindi ka malalasing”. hahahaha

Donna puked twice in our toilet on the first night. Then she puked on the sink in the fancy hotel bar on that second afternoon. We stopped drinking after that. It was getting too funny.

WWe spent our more wholesome hours walking the miles-long (certainly felt like it) stretch of sand, buying cheap things that we still haggled unfailingly for. Tin had her hair-braided (it lasted one and a half day) and we got henna tatoos. So touristy, haha.

We people-watched the steady stream of Koreans and Chinese and the assortment of white dudes crowding the beach who looked back curiously too. We had Jonas milkshake and the best waffles in Zuzuni ever, and although everything there was at a 1.4 price index, those three days were a massive food trip that i wouldn’t have wanted to end if i wasn’t running low on funds. I am so over banana boats and island hopping excursions. So i’m glad we traded all that for actual laying down on pillowed benches, with iPods and magazines while waiting for the sunset and with the mighty sea breeze refreshingly cold on our almost-sunburned skin. That, really was the life.

I really shouldn’t have come home yet. I didn’t even get a tan, I’m still my usual pasty self.