
Despite the threat of Typhoon Nina, we braved the portentous clouds and went ahead with our trip. We were monitoring the weather websites as to whether we should cancel or push through because all signs indicate that Nina will hit on the exact days of our vacation. The boat ride was nothing short of terrifying, with the captain seemingly losing control of the boat at one point, with waves going above the roof of the ferry, and the boat thrashing and careening at perilous angles, threatening to topple the vessel at a whim. Most everyone was visibly shaken, except, apparently, me. While everyone was white with fright, I was oblivious to the sounds of the thundering waves, since I had John Denver blasting away in my iPod earpiece. Somehow, John warbling, “Take me home, country roads to the place where I belong…” put me in a place far, far away…at least from this little boat teetering on the brink of sinking, in the middle of giant churning waves in the MIndoro channel.
Delle was cursing the day I was born for giving the go-signal for this trip. All visible color had drained from her face by the time we reached land, sweet, land. We just docked at Muelle, to transfer to a smaller sppedboat to take us to Buri. But as I shared in the last post, the resort was a dream to stay in (despite a glitch or two), so all regrets of going faded slowly into the horizon.

It was a surprisingly sedate holiday. Usually, our vacations are like thongs: we try to squeeze in as much as we can into a finite space. But with this one, we just decided to do something we were in dire need to do: relax. So we basically spent most of the 3 days just lounging around, sleeping, lounging some more, eating, capped of with some more lounging…around. We only swam in the pool once. We skipped the island hopping and snorkling that came with the package. Delle went to the spa a lot.

It’s been a harrowing past couple of months for us, especially for me, so it felt like an oasis in a vast desert of stress. Somehow, being physically away from everything that’s been plaguing me was more than just symbolic, but gave me actual relief. I had no headaches, I had no bouts with depression, I had no panic attacks, just pure unadulterated peace. I even had a smile on my face, which in these days, seems like such a rare commodity, a luxury I can’t seem to afford.
The 3 days passed by like a blur. I could hardly even remember any details of how we spent the vacation. The only thing that sticks out was everytime we’d hang out at the dock, just sitting there, or lying there, with Nina puffing her cool winds in our faces, the sound of the waters rushing to shore, and just enjoying the simple life that seemed so out of reach at the time.

Plus, we also saw a dead sea snake on the shore. We thought it died a natural death, but when we turned it over, we saw its guts all over the sand. It looked like a violent death.

We loved the quiet life the 3 days afforded us. It was nice seeing the fisherfolk go about their business as we watched them, as we perched on the dock. But like most good things ( but to be fair, as well as the bad), it must come to an end. So we practically had to pry ourselves away from our island retreat and trudged on back home. Don’t get me wrong, we love that we have homes to come home to, it’s just that the rest was REALLY nice. It was one of my most uneventful vacations, but it was also one of the nicest. I’ve forgotten how good doing nothing feels.

But to be fair to Nina (the acoustic storm), she was really nice to us. With the exception of a really intense rainshower on the 2nd night, and a few episodes of light drizzling, the most we felt of her was the strong winds blowing 24/7 (wow, Nina was blowing all-day, all-night!). Mostly it was just pleasantly cloudy, but at least there was very little rain. Plus, the ferry back home was smoother than a baby’s butt. Oh well, it’s over now. Those late afternoons at the dock are but distant memories. Time to work hard again so we can afford another vacation in the future. Such is the cycle of life. Or at least the middle class version.





























