08/08/08

Finally the bus came to a halt and everyone slowly unraveled from their seats. Almost everybody had wrapped themselves like cocoons, using whatever excess clothing they had to fight off the relentless cold air spewing from the air-conditioning.

Outside, everything seemed to be bathing in gray – the kind of sunrise you get when clouds are in the way. Some of my companions had already brought out their cameras, I, smoking a cigarette in disbelief. As if on cue, a taho vendor appeared and offered us a warm soy-based respite. I smoked another cigarette to shake the chills away.

Greyhound

We have arrived in Daet, the capital of Camarines Norte and the port in the nearby town Vinzons is just a couple of minutes away. It’s a cozy municipality, boasting of small town establishments and at roughly six in the morning, it was already buzzing with a hint of economic activity. They even have their own Jollibee, which these days is an indicator that you’re not too faraway from city comforts. Yet, Daet still remains a 1st class municipality, just a referendum away from cityhood.

e returned to our fortunately defrosted bus and headed on to the port where our final ride awaited us. By the time we arrive, the sun had decided to shine a notch higher and this set an undeniable excitement in the group. Two large fishing boats were already parked in the muddy river bank and its crew loaded our backpacks somewhat systematically. While waiting, most brought out their cameras and started snapping away at local, sun-kissed Bicolano children intrigued by the arrival of a busload of Manileños. Although this part of Camarines has been surfacing recently in travel related media, it certainly is not your usual popular Boracay or Puerto Galera. To the uninformed (and there are a lot of them) the word “Calaguas” will just trigger responses of “Saan yun?”

Riverine

But my camera lingered in its bag. It wasn’t that I wasn’t thrilled. It’s just that I had been shooting a lot the past few months for school and I just wanted to vacation. So there.

Finally our sea voyage commenced and we slowly floated along a mangrove-lined river, carefully avoiding the shallow portions lest we get stuck in the muddy bottom. Our aged but handsome boat sliced through the placid river and everybody was warned to relish the pervading serenity.

Estuary

Soon enough, the river widened rather abruptly revealing an awesome blue mass of a sea and from the estuary, the breaking whitewater could already be seen. The photographers hastily put away their cameras and braced themselves for the inevitable force of the open sea. Our boatman relates that tourists rarely visit Calaguas this time of the season because of spotty weather which easily turns an easy 2-hour trip into a brutal 4-hour nightmare. But we are not your average tourists and we certainly aren’t the faint of heart type.

During boat rides, I often find myself seated near the boats bow where the sea spray is most felt and where the breeze is strongest. As long as conditions can allow my iPod to remain dry, my ears are usually stuffed with headphones blaring with my current travel anthem.

This summer I discovered Angels and Airwaves, a modern rock band led by Tom Delonge of the defunct Blink182. Their song “The Adventure” is grand, inspiring and builds up to a “now moment .“ It climaxes with these lyrics repeating over and over:

Hey oh here I am / And here we go / Life’s waiting to begin

It’s a complete sensory barrage which I feel nowhere else: the tireless wind rustling my hair, the salty water hitting my face, the taste of the sea in my mouth, the mild nausea and the music all reminds me why I travel. It reminds me of being alive.

Mahabang Buhangin

By the time Mahabang Buhangin was in full view, the sun was now in it’s fiercest and the clouds had stepped aside. As we approached the shore, the water began to lighten from a deep blue, to an emerald green and finally to a clear, light blue which can only be equated by the most chlorinated of swimming pools. The feeling amongst us was just electric, acknowledging to each other that the beach simply and overwhelmingly rocks. All I could muster was a loud “Beach!” in my most victorious voice.

At last the soft, white sands of Calaguas have touched my feet once more, my every step leaving a huge footprint. Save for a few locals, living on the island, there was only us, rendering an exclusive feeling to a place so precious at times you’d wish others wouldn’t discover it. But that’s just selfish.

Little One

The sun was beaming so gloriously that I had an unstoppable compulsion to unload my camera and began shooting. Beaches’ colors appear best when photographed in high and direct sunlight and after clicking about 20 frames on my digital camera, I was done and happy with what I got. I then brought out my film camera loaded with Ilford Delta 400 and shot my brand of travel photography. After finishing that roll, I stored all my gear and rushed to soak in the beautiful, beautiful waters. So much for photography.

It was a perfect, lazy island afternoon spent playing cards, drinking Tequila shots and attempting to play frisbee which because of the steadfast winds fastly turned into patintero and agawan base. That night was spent like any of our island nights – partying island style which consists of getting soused with cheap alcohol, laughing uncontrollably and rocking to the Eraserheads.

And I wasn’t in the company of strangers. At first, these people were just travel buddies – acquaintances who see each other during trips brought together by the forces of logistics and happenstance. But because of the blessing that is the internet, we soon found ourselves meeting up in Manila for dinners, birthdays, badminton matches and all-out drinking sessions. Despite the differences we have, we all have a common interest that is a great force in our lives: travel. No, I wasn’t in the company of strangers. I was in the company of good friends.

At around 3AM, after all the bottles had been emptied, and everyone had retreated into their tents and I was sure everyone was okay, I crawled into my own sleeping space. I knew that a huge hangover was awaiting me in the morning but I had always been an optimist. And with that thought.

Wasted. Happy. Alive.