Living Island Style

We’ve settled into a groove here and as of yesterday have purchased a beachfront bungalow with a few mopeds, opened a joint called the Sand Bar, enrolled in Filipino language class, and have been taking our catamaran out to sea every morning to fish for our lunch. Okay, well at least the last one is true but the rest of it also becomes such a tempting possibility when you’ve spent a week on Boracay. It’s the type of place where a two day visit can easily turn into two weeks or even two months. The highlight here is “White Beach” a two mile stretch of postcard perfect palm fringed beachfront with the finest powdery white sand I have ever walked on. The clear blue green waters here are perfectly warm and I’ve already spent many hours just swimming in the ocean, and wading hundreds of yards off the shorelines. Most tourists never leave the idyllic stretch of White Beach. Jimmie and I like to believe we’re not tourists but adventurers, looking for the hidden treasure that every location surely hides for those willing to go to the effort to find it. On this adventure to Boracay we would find not only beautiful beaches and postcard sunsets but also authentic culture, people and a notorious spectator sport partaken by only by the locals,….and us.

Boracay is just a spec of an island measuring about 7km long and just 1km across at it most narrow flat midriff. Each end is anchored by more rugged hilly terrain and the island is dotted with many secluded sandy coves and smaller beaches waiting to reward those exploring off the beaten path. Along White Beach is a sandy pedestrian freeway where all of the tourism action is located; bungalows, clubs, bars, restaurants and shops all vie for the tourist dollars. Walking around on White Beach and surrounding Boracay in anything but sandals or bare feet would be quite a faux pas.


New Years Eve

On New Years Eve, the numbers on the island swelled five fold with tourists and neighboring islanders all descending on White Beach to ring in the New Year. On a perfectly tropical night, we joined thousands of other revelers on the beach in high spirits as the DJ counted down to midnight. At the appointed moment the crowd let out a collective scream, the spray of champagne and beer drenched everyone and the rhythmic beach house musical beats had all of Boracay moving. The music, idyllic setting and friendly international vibe all coalesced to create an evening I will not soon forget. The following day sometime around noon we stumbled onto the beach and hugged recliners for a day of recuperation. In fact, as New Years Eve was about to ring in California (4pm the following day here), I was floating on my back in the warm turquoise waters trying to imagine what was going on back home - San Francisco and the pageantry of Union Square, Insanity in the streets of Lake Tahoe and Las Vegas, Russ’s party in Santa Barbara, friends private celebrations large and small everywhere. Wherever you happened to be on New Years Eve, I hope you had a grand celebration! Our resolution for next year? We’ve booked our Boracay beachfront bungalow (a super find) again for New Years…. Who wants to join us?

Lunchtime!

On early Tuesday morning, we took a catamaran out off the coast for some fishing, snorkeling and motoring about the island. I had the catch of the day, a mighty imposing two pound snapper, and Jimmie pulled off the anglers’ trick of catching two angel fish with one cast - we have pictures to prove it. After a few hours at sea, we landed back on the beach and our captain grilled up all of the fish we caught, and served it up for lunch wrapped in banana leaf with soy sauce. There is nothing better than the taste of fish this fresh. Our crew didn’t present us with any utensils for eating, they said “just eat it island style man”. So we picked apart the whole grilled fish with our hands and savored the freshness with a cold San Miguel. Delicious! This is a way of life I could definitely get used to.

After lunch, our captain invited us to tag along with him to a favorite local spectator sport of cock fighting. With a morbid curiosity, we jumped on his tricycle (a taxi motorcycle with a sidecar) and rode to the end of the island where hundreds of local men crowded around a fighting ring in the middle of the small village. Jimmie and I were the only non natives (me with backpack and camera around my neck) in the sea of Filipino men. Despite the fact that we stood out in their village like a sore thumb, they were friendly and welcoming. From what we could figure out, there was a matching period, where the men would gather near the coops and size up the birds to determine which ones were best matched for fighting each other. Once in the ring, and just before the birds start pecking each other to death, there is a chaotic betting session which sounds like being on the floor of the New York stock exchange. Odds are placed and spectators yell wagers at each other while men in the ring help to administer the confusing process. While the spectator sport has an appalling image abroad, it maintains a healthy following here in the Philippines and probably happens all over the country. Large events which take place in huge auditoriums are broadcast regularly on local Manila television. This leads me to believe that it’s a legal activity here and probably something akin to horse racing in the U.S. If there’s any upside to the cruel and inhumane treatment of the animals, it’s that the losers go immediately from the fighting ring to the dinner table.


“He who

Life's a Beach

dies with the most passport stamps wins” - Jimmie Lykes

“Sometimes it’s not the destination but the journeys along the way which hold the best experiences” - Michael Holmstrom

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