Soapbox

Boracay

 

I didn't get out of bed till midday. The past six days had been a full on assault on the senses, and a lie in was just what I needed. The bed was cloaked in a green mosquito net, but that didn't stop us getting bitten to hell. So began our daily routine of: have shower, apply creams. Aloe Vera for sun burn, sunscreen for the day ahead, insect repellant, bite cream and so forth.

 

I also slept late because I knew the night would be a long one.

 

The beach we were on was a kite surfer's mecca. Looking out over the sea, hundreds of colourful kites and boarders jumped, glided and bumped across the water. I spent the whole day lounging around and avoiding the sun.

 

Late afternoon we took a walk to White Beach, the famous Philippine tourist destination. After being in Palawan with it's perfect water and untarnished beaches, I didn't think much of the scenery. Restaurants and shop fronts crowded onto the beach, and the crowds of people had clearly taken their toll on the island's facilities. The stench of rubbish said it all, not to mention the huge piles of it.

 

Early evening we decided to go for a run - shirts off, bandanas on. It was so strange. Literally within five minutes from the heavily congested, noisy, polluted tourist areas, the noise and activity dropped away, leaving us to run through quiet store fronts and village houses. People cooked all kinds of meat - pig, chicken, beef - and the smells filled the air. Children danced and played, people listened to music, adults sitting around with drink in hand, people smiling all the way.

 

Sweat pouring off me, panting,  and people waved and yelled 'hello' and 'come back', and for a brief moment, I felt like I had finally arrived on the island.

 

Back on the quiet side of the beach, in our bamboo bungalow, the concept of mass marketed tourism became clear to me.

 

Make no mistake, Boracay would have been beautiful some time ago, and if you know what you are getting - resorts, masses of people, restaurants and upscale bars - it can be fun. But when something is mass marketed around the world as a tourist destination, it isn't about the experience, it's about the dollar. Packaging the tourists, shipping them in and out, every job on the island devoted to satisfying western consumption.

 

Perhaps I am being cynical. Maybe I was just jaded from all our activities, and needed a good sleep. And after all, New Year's was fun. We bought in the New Year with the Norwegians, there was masses of fireworks over the water, we listened to live music and drank our fair share.

 

I got home at 3am and slept like a log. John woke me round 6am, not having slept and having just swam in the ocean as the sun came up. I had to wake him up in the airport lounge just before our flight, as we hightailed it out of there to Cebu City.