The Last Day of Estrogen Packed Dinners

Brother: The record with my friends is 8 pieces of Max Chicken.
Me: Wow, eight! That's a lot of estrogen packed goodness.
Brother: Huh?
Me: Check if he's still a guy tomorrow.

We just never learn. On the last day of the Max Chicken-All-You-Can, my siblings and I went to Max Roxas Boulevard to take advantage of this rare promotion. Celebrating it's 65th year in providing sarap-to-the-bones chicken, for a price of 165 pesos and running from June 17 to July 17th, one can have all the chicken one can enjoy in one sitting. Served in quarters, waiters go around with baskets full of those moist, yummy, oil-drenched chicken.

My brother and I have already tried it before and have stomached enough chicken to last us a whole month, but we decided to give it one more chance before the promotion completely dies away.

Ever since the promotion started, queues in Max became impossibly long. One time, my friends and I had to wait for almost an hour just to be seated.

Once the chicken arrived on our tables, we attacked. With my bare hands, I began peeling away the crispy, fatty skin and tearing the soft tender meat.

When the cadavers keep piling up, you don't ask how
Think of all the people guaranteed a good time now.

The first chicken was small, but delicious. Then came the second, then the third. When the fourth arrived, I was already tasting the oil more than enjoying the chicken, and with a heavy cholesterol-filled heart, I conceded. My siblings all concluded their chicken fiesta by their fifth piece. One thing consistent though was that, whenever we've neared our limits, we end up getting "chicken high" - laughing at the most trivial comments and emphasizing the most minute details of anything. We were "drunk" with chicken.

Not really very pleasing, but this was dinner.

The marginal utility of my Max chicken consumption is 3. I've already lost satisfaction by the fourth. It was no longer appetizing, in fact I was feeling more and more repulsed with every bite I had to endure. Lesson learned? Moderation. Moderation. Moderation.

Assessing the marketing strategy used by Max, I would like to assume that they have earned quite a lot from the promotion because of three things. First, consumers tend to be quite greedy, that is why buffets earn a lot of money. Hearing "unlimited", most people would blindly and gladly jump into the bandwagon, sometimes not considering the rule of diminishing utility. It's a challenge, and it's something novel.

Secondly, people don't usually just order the chicken, they tend to pair it with something else, as drinks, desserts, side dishes and rice.

And thirdly, checking the market, most cooked whole chickens sold on the streets are priced at 150-200 pesos. Given that, an average individual can eat a total of 3 to 4 pieces, tantamount to a whole chicken. At 165, that would be the rough cost of chicken already marked up with profit, and thus would mean, there is still some possible profit for the company.

Either way, I think Max did a wonderful promotion, and I applaud the servers for putting up with the demands and pressures of the diners. I'm sure it was a chaotic, hectic environment they've endured for the past month. I wonder what surprise they have up their sleeves next year.

Visitation of the Past

It was an extremely impulsive buy. After more than three years of trying to have my dad's SLR repaired to no avail, I chanced upon a repairman who offered me the same unit as dad's Canon T70 for a reasonable and pocket-friendly price.

He informed me that my dad's camera has undergone far too long a period of disuse and that its mechanisms would no longer be responsive to any manipulation he can attempt do. This same reason has been given to me by the many shops I've tried to have the SLR done, that it no longer surprised me when he relayed me of that sad reality - he adds, the best possible purpose for my dad's obsolete camera is for display.

Having bought a Canon T70, a film reliant single lens reflex camera, during this time of the great digital revolution - I do feel a bit out of place. And still, the almost sentimental feeling of using a camera similar to my dad's, was sufficient reason for me to carry on.

With little practice and hardly remembering any of the vital rules my teachers have imparted to me back in college, I am back in square one - relearning all my photography how-to.

Last Sunday (July 4), during our weekly visit to Manila Memorial at Cavite, to pay our respects to our dear grandmother, I brought the camera along with me to try some shots. Loaded with a FUJI ISO 100 film, the following are some of the photos that I've managed to take.

Below is my new desktop background photo. Although it's a typical photograph to many, something about it just speaks to me. How the trees can be so plenty, and yet seem so frail and lonely. Under the heat of the afternoon sun, they stand there painfully, seeming to wait for the day to die away. There are days when I share their sentiments. There is just something absolutely and deliciously romantic about film.


The sun was immensely bright during this time of the day, which makes it perfectly compatible with the ISO of my film. Despite being taught never to shoot directly at the sun, at it may overexpose the photo, I was tempted to try it out. At 1/1000 second shutter speed, this was the image that manifested from that trial shot. Edited minimally with Photoshop, I like the overexposed effect.

I used to say that my ideal date would be in a cemetery, the peace among the silenced. Most people found me odd confessing such a fancy, but I do enjoy moments when you can be alone with the one you love - when the world mattered not. When you have managed to steal away into a sanctuary where you can be as yourselves. With tamed nature around you, or architectural delights and stories surrounding you, without care whether you interpret or misinterpret them the way you wish. A solitude that sits like a refined companion betwixt the two of you, nodding agreeably to your conversations without desire to whisper it to the gossiping wind.

A pile of discarded garbage laid on the street, bunched together with the dried leaves. Looking at things through a viewfinder, everything felt so ephemeral and nostalgic - the magical effect of photogenie. I was just tempted to take a photo, and oddly, I'm pretty pleased at how it came out.
In general, the short photo shoot refreshed me - hopefully with a few more trials my skills would be sharpened a bit. As a note, I've tried to have my films developed and was turned down by a few mall based stores informing me that the soonest they can return my photos would be in a week since they no longer carry chemicals for film processing.

Thankfully, I found a Fuji store who finished the developing in an hour's time. I have requested to have the prints saved in a CD, which they obliged. A cost of 140 for each film (to be processed and saved as a .jpeg) seems a bit pricey for 36 shots contrasted against the trigger happy shooting using digital SLRs. Still, I am optimistic that using film would train me to be more quick and resolute with my shots, and not relying on pure luck for the pictures I want to achieve.

As I've mentioned earlier, there is something romantic in the use of film - similar to the birth of a child, the half-blind hope that your photos will come out alright, the brimming anticipation of having it developed, the giddy butterflies in your stomach as you see them manifested into actual photos. Ahhh.. Film.

Fuji photos have also surprised me as they turned out to be highly saturated with very strong contrast among its colors. They also have a tendency to be very grainy - although I am not sure if this is a desirable attribute among photos, I am particularly happy with how it effected upon my photographs.

Wedding Bells

"There is no more lovely, friendly and charming relationship, communion or company than a good marriage." - Martin Luther

With barely a month's notice, I am still in the state of utter disbelief that one of my peers shall be bidding farewell to his glorious days of single-blessedness. Of course, many of my batch mates have already passed this stage - and yet, when it is someone who you've practically grown up with, this sort of scenario takes quite a while to absorb. Friends, they seem to be extensions of oneself, and when one takes that leap of faith, it seems almost undeniable that someone would ask, "Who's next?"

I would've been surprised earlier had I been more vigilant in attending our group's get-together dinners and trips. Perhaps being among the last to incur this information, it is still perfectly understandable that I am held agog by the speed at which their wedding will be taking place. In a few more weeks, he shall be welcomed into the world of legal, marital responsibilities and conjugal division of properties. A crazy world where I am sure I'm not yet willing to contract myself into.

Conditioning myself that wedding invites from friends will soon be pouring in, as there will be more for this year from people I personally know, I begin to question how people can be so quick and resolute in making decisions that would bind them for the rest of their lives. The death-bound communion of two souls. Surely, any romantic could read this as an act of unbridled, unconditional love and conviction. I guess I am not as passionate. I do not have ample maturity to be engulfed into that perilous world.

Still, it is their happiness and not mine, that is on the line, in respect to this post. I am glad that they've found each other and have sufficiently convinced themselves that this is the path they shall be treading for the remainder of their long lives.

...

You can't be wise and in love at the same time.
* Bob Dylan, No Direction Home (2005)

Love

A true lover of words, William Shakespeare has, for many years now, utterly impressed me with his poetry. Sensible thoughts penned down so fluidly that his words can run down my tongue like a free flowing stream. The brief moments that his lyrical prose touches my lips, there is an evanescent peace and conviction in my mind.

Love has always been a curious topic - a favorite for many. I doubt there can ever be anything done without a purpose driven by love. Even in one's most forlorn instances, there is a grip that fastens us to the things we hold dear, to fight and defend despite the loss of all possible victory.

A few days earlier, I have debated with myself with regards to this capricious feeling. Apparently love does not always manifest as that soft tingling murmur at the bottom of your stomach, or as that whirlwind dizzy phase of obsession. It may begin as so, but eventually it evolves to exist even without response, without expectations - at times, I daresay, it evolves into a sense of duty and responsibility that it intermingles with our daily lives almost unnoticed out of habit. It no longer dictates, but compromises and understands.

There is much more swimming in my mind that I do not find words to write here. Perhaps I shall divulge more in some other circumstance. But, let me conclude this post with a sonnet from Shakespeare that I've just encountered. Perhaps it may aid in my search for meaning.


SONNET 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

A Brief Rigmarole

My strength and intellect find themselves slowly being eaten away by my day-to-day regimens without any form of enriching or improving the current state of my mind. None of my activities so far can come as close as to compare with my university years of daily discourse with fine minds and learned texts, my confident strides in achieving what I wish to accomplish, my haughty assurance in defending what I stand for.

Sitting across this flat screen of white, I am faced with a blankness of thoughts, a great chasm within my mind - I am at a loss of anything witty to say, of anything that is product of profound thought and meditation - such a luxury it is to have time to sit quietly and ponder relentlessly of life and its many branches; or to have an equally mindful companion with a parallel desire to broaden his perceptions on philosophical and intangible wealth. Such that the two of you can throw arguments at each other hoping one can return it with an anti-thesis to create a completely new concept worth further pondering upon.

And yet, when placed in such an occasion, challenged to be mentally able and quick witted, I find myself struggling helplessly to defend my side. It seems as if my points have turned into ideas that are far too complex to be articulated. My brain hangs in an almost non-functioning manner, and I would escape by gushing towards another topic. An exceedingly embarrassing show of my lack of practice in discourse.

I wonder if I can recapture myself in days of old, when my tongue loses tact and becomes wild with raging thoughts and fingers never sore from keying down all my defenses. My mind has grown placid - a kind of peaceful stagnancy that I fear must not be tolerated for a long period of time, or fear that I may forever be stuck in this pit of blindness.

Rekindling my love for books, I pray my inanity and simple mindedness would dissipate and in its place stand once again, my lucid, well-formed opinions.

I do not deny that in the course of my life, my pride in my intellect have won me many enemies and my lack of diplomacy has chained me to many unflattering memories, and yet - these are the things I hold dearly.

Should this state continue on, I fear that I would eventually be a ghost, of no significant opinion of anything, wandering mindlessly without a goal. I always believe this is merely a phase in my life, and I hope this is true. I desire my life to become something more than what it stands today, it does not represent much, it does not encapsulate much of what I had hope it to be.. But then, life must be taken a step at a time.

My friend, Rachel, had posted this in Facebook a few minutes ago and I loved the song enough to post it here.


I just feel so lonely. and empty... I wish you can understand me.

A Quick Trip to Tagaytay

After a week of exasperating work, a deflated morale and a sinking feeling caused by my quarter life crisis, I couldn't be happier when Leo invited me to join a group of friends to have dinner at Tagaytay. I needed something to break the quickly developing monotony of my daily routines - I needed a breather that could at least, briefly, sweep me away from the heaviness of Manila life. The idea of a Tagaytay dinner sounded completely refreshing, that I grabbed the opportunity as swiftly as it came.

According to plan, Leo was supposed to pick me up from work at 6 yesterday (June 26), but due to the rainfall, the rendezvous time was delayed. He came over past 7 with Liza, and we drove to Makati to pick up Berns. We were only four. We then proceeded to South Super Highway - getting out at Sta. Rosa exit and going straight until, after an hour later, we arrived at Tagaytay.

We were choosing between two restaurants - either Leslie's or Josephine's; eventually we settled for Leslie's. Dad told me that food there is good, and I was curious to try it out. He had informed me that Tagaytay is known for its sweet, fresh vegetables and beef products. At Leslie's, a must try would have to be their Bulalo.

So here we were, the girls, Liza, myself and Berns posing for Leo at the bridge entrance of Leslie's

Tagaytay is famous for its breath-taking view of the Taal volcano. Although it was night time, we still had a good view of the said volcano under the clear navy gray sky. Sitting there with the cool atmosphere enveloping me, I can only wish I could be there with someone special and watch the twinkling dots of electrical lights play at the bottom of the cliff, watch the blurry silhouette of the Taal volcano at a distance as the moon quietly floats above bringing a shy, mystical illumination of everything it's light touches.

Oddly, the photo below made me think of B.o.B's song, Airplanes.

"Can we pretend that airplanes
In the night sky
Are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now"

I could really use a wish right now. But that curve wasn't a shooting star nor was it an airplane. It was a moth.

The moths were crazy that night. As the photo below illustrates, the moths crowded together where there is light (usually happens after a rain, they say). And although in the picture, they may appear like snow falling in the background, I honestly don't think they added anything positive to the eating ambiance. I'll explain this later.
Leslie's closed the lights inside the mess hall, the only ones left open were those outside. I grabbed the chance and borrowed Leo's DSLR to take photos of the insects. I haven't used a DSLR in quite a while and I'm sure my camera know hows have already rusted - but I'm glad to have taken the photos below, they're quite interesting. With a slow shutter speed, the motion blur dance of the moths registered nicely resembling light feathers floating against a dark blue backdrop.




Beautiful as they may seem in the photos above, they are quite disgusting to look at against an unromantic backdrop, as can be seen in the photo below. There was a yellow bucket filled with water, apparently to lure the moths and drown them.
Flowers? Look again. It's like a heap of drowned moth corpses and dismembered wings floating around. Disgusting.

Disregarding the moths, the food at Leslie's were Pinoy favorites ranging from sisig, barbecues, crispy pata and many others. Our group decided to go unhealthy and got Leslie's Bulalo, an order of Lechon Kawali, Tuna Sisig and Pinakbet. Apparently, I was the most unhealthy of all, relishing on the beef and pork fats of our orders - and not touching any of the vegetables. The luxury of being young. Below are our photos enjoying our food.



What I loved most was that we can keep having our soup refilled, and we did that a couple of times - even had it changed because a few departed moths have crashed into our soup, swimming aimlessly like meat fat on the warm yummy soup. Death by bulalo. A few moths have also drowned in our drinking waters, or have landed briefly on our plates - to our great dismay.

The highlight of our evening was seeing ex-actor and newly elected Quezon City mayor, Herbert Bautista across the table. It took a while for us to gather our thoughts if a photo with him would be worth it, and with a good flip of a coin whether we should go through it, I took the initiative of asking him for a photograph - and kindly, he obliged us.

We all look the same, he said. I'm not really sure what he meant by that.

After dinner, we headed to Starbucks for a good warm drink before heading back to Manila. Of course, if you've been to a Starbucks store, you've generally seen them all - so there is nothing very unusual with their branch here. It always has been about the company you're with that matters anyway.
Heading back to the parking lot, a glorious white moon hung above us and we found it absolutely imperative to have a quick photo session with the backdrop. You don't get to see that in Manila often.
We arrived in Manila at 2.30 in the morning, everyone a bit tired from the outing. I felt fulfilled though. A long pending Tagaytay trip in my to-do list can now be canceled off. Looking forward to the next adventure.

Photos were taken using Leo's SLR camera, and grabbed from his Tagaytay trip album.

Cosmopolitan

Left with my boredom on a Saturday night, I found myself busying over a new pair of customized shoes (while the rest of my siblings and friends were out watching Iron Man 2) - pouring my ennui and thoughts into my latest to-be masterpiece. I completed Cosmopolitan on May 4, 2010 in the quiet comforts of my room - the fifth in my customized shoe collection.

Cosmopolitan is generally a hodgepodge of modern day luxuries and amenities that are relatively consistent in many parts of the globe - somewhat an interpretation of the modern day culture (or so I'd like to believe). It is a product of brainlessly browsing through a friend's Singapore-Malaysia trip album, and suddenly having a spark of inspiration from some of the photos he archived there. Yes, boredom can be surprisingly inspiring.

Honestly, when I began work on the said pair, I was feeling a bit disappointed how it was taking shape. Using the basic colors of red and blue, I couldn't help thinking about Spiderman - and I was seriously considering painting over the whole doodle and making an entirely new design. Thankfully though, with a few more colors, my distaste subsided and the pair turned out pretty well.

Although Cosmopolitan has been completed over a month ago, it is only now that I found time to photograph and document it here.

For more photos of Cosmopolitan, click here.

Happy Birthday Guadalupe

Completed on December 18, 2009, as my best friend's Christmas-slash-birthday gift, let me introduce, "Happy Birthday Guadalupe". Of course, my best friend is not Guadalupe; the name can be attributed to the Killers song that was playing in my head on rewind, as I was working on this pair. We were stoked for the Killers concert that was supposed to take place last January 30, 2010, but due to some internal problems, the show was canceled, leaving us heartbroken.

Anyway, this came from the same concept as Monster Campus and was finished in the SM Corporate office as I was rushing to have the shoes ready for the night's exchange gift. We weren't informed beforehand that the other friends were planning on giving their Christmas presents that night - learning about this a few days ahead, I had to rush to finish the pair. It did come out pretty cute right?

She liked it. And that was enough to make me happy.


She brought Guadalupe over last January to have it sprayed with fixative, and I took the chance of requesting if I could take a photograph of the pair and post it in my blog as a keepsake. She agreed. And I'm so happy she did, because I just really love the colors. :D

Isla Vista Resort, Potipot Island, Zambales

Isla Vista Resort
Ealdama St, Km Post 249, Uacon, Candelaria, Zambales
April 1 to 3, 2010

Due to the successful summer trip last year to La Luz Beach Resort, the friends and I decided to plan another out of town adventure; this time, we decided on Potipot Island.

It was a unanimous vote that we would go on the first three days of April, which happened to be the annual stretch of non-working holidays brought about by the celebration of the Holy Week. With everyone now having their own busy work schedules, it was difficult to find any other occasion that would be favorable to all of us without conflicting with important engagements and priorities. Dad warned me ahead of time that going out during this time of the year would be crazy, with everybody wanting to take advantage of the long break - destination spots would be packed and the traffic would be hell. Still, being optimistic, we decided to push through with the plans and if necessary, experience first hand what it would be like to be part of the Holy Week crowd.

Suggested by my best friend and my boyfriend's sister, Potipot Island is a relatively pristine beach a few minutes away from the shores of Uacon, Candelaria. Although word has been spreading about this white sand beauty, Potipot doesn't seem to enjoy as much publicity yet as other Philippine beaches, which makes it absolutely perfect for those hoping to have a laid-back weekend and get away from all the hullabaloo of city life. Although there are a few resorts along the coast of Uacon, they are not yet highly "commercialized", as some would say, as compared to other favorite vacation destinations.

Day 1

The friends decided to have an early start to beat the Holy Thursday heavy traffic. We were out of our houses by 2 in the morning and rendezvoused at an NLEX gas station to have a quickie breakfast and to lay out the plans. In two cars, we convoyed down the NLEX (North Luzon Expressway) heading towards the SCTex (Subic-Clark Expressway). Reaching Subic Bay, we proceeded to the Sta. Cruz, Zambales exit.

What stuck in my memory as we exited Subic, was the mountainside cemetery, with all the political campaign paraphernalia stuck onto the walls and grills of tombs and vaults. I recalled my friend exclaiming how insensitive of politicians to plaster their faces on the resting places of the dearly departed, still, you cannot deny that the visibility of their banners were difficult to miss given the good location.

It was a fairly long drive going to Uacon from Subic, and we constantly consulted the map provided to us by Isla Vista, which can be seen below, to make sure we were heading the right direction. In general, we just kept going "forward", following the route.
I cannot say it enough. It was a long drive. Most of us (except the drivers) have taken turns sleeping and waking and asking, "Are we there yet?" By 7.30, my dad sent me an SMS inquiring if we already reached our destination, and my answer was a no. He asked where we were headed, and after my response, he informed me that Candelaria is almost at the edge of Zambales, quite the borderline going to Pangasinan. No wonder the trip was taking forever.

We were informed that the trip would last a good five hours, but we reached our destination at approximately 9 in the morning which meant that we were on the road for almost seven hours. On the other hand, it wasn't a solid seven hour drive anyway.

We passed by other resorts before recognizing the signage of Isla Vista. We took a left from the main road into a skinny little side street with a width good enough for just one car to pass at a time. And finally, we were there - our rumps flat as pancakes.
The Isla Vista Resort is your basic resort, with the usual amenities - cabanas, a mess area, karaoke machines, ample parking space. There is nothing aesthetically spell-binding or awesome about the place except perhaps for the small fountain with fishes and frogs in front of the admissions desk. In general though, it was clean and simple with a few constellations of coconut trees dotting the area.

Our supposed check in time was still at 1 in the afternoon, but with a few friendly exchanges with the admissions staff (their admissions staff are very accommodating), we were able to change our check in time to 11 in the morning - catch is, our check out time would have to be 9 on Saturday morning rather than at 11.

Having two hours to spare before getting our room, we quickly wiped on some sunblock and headed out to the beach front to check out what the place had to offer. There was a long wide stretch of sand being shared by all the resorts, which were lined up in one long row, with ours last. There weren't a lot of people on the beach. In fact, it felt like the beach was solely ours for that time.

The sand wasn't laundry-powder white, in fact it was more khaki-tan colored. Still, on our feet, it was gloriously soft and fine. It was an absolute tactile pleasure having the smooth sand massage your feet. Had it been white and consistently cool, my friend told me, it would've passed for Boracay sand.

As you can see, from the picture below, Potipot Island is a short ride away from the shore. In fact, it was approximately five minutes away from Isla Vista Resort via boat. Because the said island does not have any of those modern comforts that most people are accustomed to - for example, private rooms and personal comfort rooms and electricity - some visitors would prefer to leave their belongings in the resorts and head on to the island for a day trip adventure, heading back just before dark to enjoy the sweet luxuries of private space and decent bedding. Being the modern adventurers that we are, that's what we intended to do.
Because of our early start, and because we didn't have much yet to do, we checked out the other resorts; and because of the shy rumbling in our tummies, we stopped by one resort to try out their food.

Their menu has your usual breakfast offerings, but the prices are generally agreeable.
According to the boyfriend of one of our friends, Zambales mangoes are distinctly sweet, and because it was summer, we each got ourselves a good ol' Mango shake for only 25 pesos each. Pure, unadulterated bliss. There is nothing like a mango shake on a hot day.
After brunch, we excitedly hurried to our room - Plaza 5. We reserved the air conditioned room good for six at 2,100 pesos a night. There were a few additional charges for an extra person at 250 per night and 150 for the extra bed (it was more of a mattress, than a bed) per night. It was a pretty good deal, and we were all thumbs up with the bargain.

The room was pretty much spartan. Three double beds on a bamboo bed frames, a thin mattress cushion on the floor and a couple of racks where we can put our things on. The bathroom is quite the same; there weren't any decorative pictures or amusing flowery potpourri scents. It's your basic shower (no hot water, by the way, but we didn't mind), toilet and a wash sink.

Starting the day at 2 in the morning, we were all deathly tired at this point. Recognizing that it's scorching hot to even think of swimming at noon, we all, one by one, fell (unconsciously) to sleep. After a good snooze, we all woke up feeling much refreshed and ready for some good pre-dusk swimming, when the sun is milder and the waters calmer.



Christel placed her shades over the lenses of her camera with the 5 pm sun casting it's light onto the clear water. The below photo is the end result.
They're back, and they're back with vengeance. The jellyfish has struck again, same unfortunate person as last year. This year, the poor dear experienced the jellyfish cooties on her right arm. No one really knows how it happened, they were just swimming in the water, when she suddenly yelped in pain, and the markings magically manifested on her arm. To ease the swelling, they found some warm vinegar and began rubbing it onto the reddening skin, and after a few minutes of doing so, the swelling relaxed a bit.
Being lazy-asses, we didn't want the hassle of bringing and cooking our own food, so we decided to buy at the resort. On our first day, we ordered a variety of dishes from their menu, only to learn that most of the orders come in awfully small and disappointing quantities. The only ones that perhaps filled our stomachs with happiness were the roasted chicken and crispy pata... and for myself, the cream of mushroom soup which I had almost every single time.

Once again the best part of eating time are the mango shakes, let me correct that, mango banana shakes.

Day 2

Awake by quarter to 6, we began our morning routines. We had informed the boat man that we will be going to Potipot Island at 6 am, but with the bathroom queue and the "what shall I wear today" dilemma, we were able to meet him at half past six.. or seven.

Morning has already unveiled itself, and the sun was mildly awake by the time we got out and the sand was cool on our feet as we boarded our boat ride. A round trip boat ride to Potipot for 6 is 400 pesos, but since we were 7, we got to use the big boat (good for 12) at 800 pesos.
When we got there, the front side of the island was already heavily populated with guests - getting out of their tents from a night of camping, making breakfast, going for that morning swim.

The island isn't all that big, walking across it, we realized, the trees you see from afar? They're lies!!! When you get to the center of the island, you'd feel like you're in the middle of a safari - a naked treeless expanse of land, with a few hairs of grass sticking out of the ground. Paranoia insists that a snake is hiding somewhere, ready to bite you on your ankle.
We found a nice space at the other end of the island, which seemed to enjoy less human contact, and decided to make it our HQ. The sand at Potipot was impeccably white, though not as soft and smooth as that from the Isla Vista Resort. The water was generally cool, clean and clear, but it wasn't quite as salty as that in Isla Vista. Once again, I am at a loss for words in describing the place, so I hope the pictures would suffice in summarizing our Potipot fun.




Yes, there were starfishes of varied shapes and colors and sizes. The friends even made a fort around their marine finds to keep them in one place - see photos below.

We also found lots of hermit crabs, some big, others as small as half one's thumbnail. We went a bit crazy and piled them all up in two plastic cups. They used to sell hermit crabs at school for 10 pesos each, here, we can just get them for free.

AND THE WORD FOR THE DAY IS...
JELLYFISH

It wasn't just us, we keep hearing the word from everyone. From passers by, from kids frolicking at a distance. We even overheard a conversation between some swimmers if a jellyfish sting would hurt? Oh, if they only know. And quite timely, as our jellyfish magnet friend was wading in the water, guess what was following her?

We caught the little jelly spy!

After a few hours of playing in the water, wading, sun bathing (under an umbrella), hermit crab hunting, fort building, fish searching and whatever stuff, it was a little close to noon, and we've tired ourselves out. So we grabbed all our belongings, and headed back to the front side of the island. Making the most of our cameras along the way.

We were aiming for a Survivor look. I wonder if it worked, but it's still a pretty cool photo.

We had told the boatman that we wanted to be picked up past lunch, at around 2 in the afternoon, but by mid-noon, we wanted to go back to our cool air conditioned room, that we requested one of the Potipot Island caretakers to text our boatman to bring us back to the Isla Vista Resort.

Upon reaching our resort, we said farewell to our Potipot catches. We let our hermit crabs run free on the brown sand, and returned the starfishes back into the cool salty waters.

After dinner, I headed out to the beach, the water had already retreated leaving two toned sands - the wet and the dry. You can hear the soft murmur of the waves as it dies on the soft sand, a gurgle of bubbles foaming before another wave climbs up and mimics the earlier waves. The air was cool, though I didn't feel any wind. My best friend volunteered to accompany me in my silence. It was a beautiful moment walking barefoot, your print melting onto the damp sand, and thousands of stars eying you in their own moments of contemplation. It felt like peace.

We sat on the dry sand, my hand playing with it as it slips fluidly out of my grasp, running out the spaces between my fingers. We sat there, in silence, and it felt like nothing else mattered. That was my favorite memory of the trip. The solitude, the company and the silence.

The others have taken to a different sport, crab hunting. With the aid of their flashlights and their fast fingers, the guys began stalking and searching crabs, putting them in a plastic full of sand. In the darkness, you can see the crabs scatter across the sand and bury themselves in their little holes. The guys would then begin digging the hole until they find the critter. By the end, they managed to catch, if I'm not mistaken, as many as 8 crabs in their plastic. Some big, others small.
They did let most of the crabs go, except for a couple, that they wanted to bring home to keep as souvenirs.

Day 3

It was Christel's birthday. For the many years we've been together, this is the first time we ever celebrated anyone's birthday out of town together. There weren't any fancy cakes, though we wanted to buy her one on this special day. (Civilization is a long drive away, we didn't recall seeing a Mcdonald's an hour's drive away from where we were)

We weren't able to do much drinking as well. The past few nights we were mostly tired that drinking was often foregone, and even on this day, I personally wasn't too keen on getting drunk. Funny thought that, this year, compared to our La Luz trip, we had more alcohol, but we're a little less crazed to drink now. By midnight, I was already busy in slumberland.

We woke up at 6 plus on Day 3, and got ready to go by 9, which also happened to be our check out time, since one of our companions had a family trip in Subic by 1pm. Heading back, the guys noticed that prices of gas in Zambales, by the way, were more expensive as compared to those in Manila. By no means, I don't know the figures, but I'll just take their word for it.

We got to Subic by 12 plus, after stopping by a line of stores selling mangoes for 50 pesos per kilo. Leaving Subic at 1.30 or 2, we got to the SCTex and this is what we found at the end of the rainbow. Ta-dah! Say hello to traffic!

I got home a little past five that day. I was the first to be dropped off.

It was a good adventure, and it was fun hanging out with the peeps. Talks of an August out of town trip is now on their tongues, hopefully now, on the works - where to? I am yet to know.

*Some photos were taken from Christel's Potipot Island albums.