Act 2.5: I Couldn’t Fit Bora in One Post
As previously noted, I scheduled a ridiculously early flight. By the time I had accomplished all 24 steps of the travel process to Boracay, it was only 7:45am. They let me check in early at the Marzon, and I took a nap. I woke up around 11am and went for a stroll down the beach. I like to walk the full length of a beach when I first get there, I’m not sure why. Restless feet I guess.
On my way back, it started raining. I saw the clouds coming in off the end of the island, but I was too far away to get back to my hotel in time. I also didn’t care, as I already had on my bathing suit. I strolled back to the my little resort sopping wet and got a bowl of pig and rice at the Marzon Cafe.
As a sidenote, I stayed at the Marzon on the advice of a friend of a Trevor’s that I only met twice. As a result, I only knew Shadiyah and Dave vaguely, and I had never met anyone else from their group of 10 people until that afternoon. Fortunately, they were a solid bunch and I was quickly assimilated. This proved to be not just pleasant, but necessary, since my coworkers were at a different resort and basically did not hang out with me at all. WTF?
Anyway, we lounged around while it rained and quickly jogged through the usual introductory conversation topics. This is definitely one of the cool things about teaching in Korea. Everyone is fairly accepting of teachers they’ve never met. I’m not sure where the solidarity springs from, possibly from the fact that the average school employs a small number of English speaking teachers, and you probably get sick of them and want to meet new people eventually. Or maybe it’s the unity that comes from everyone being a minority in a homogeneous culture all of a sudden. Either way, it worked to my benefit, and I now had a group of friends to go drinking with on this most lovely Monday night. We set off to find the notorious Boracay nightlife, after sampling a local sugar cane liquor called Ginebra. It should be noted that Ginebra is extremely cheap, and while the taste is manageable, it smells like rubbing alcohol. And no, not in the way you say a liquor smells like rubbing alcohol when it is gross. It literally smelled exactly like rubbing alcohol. It did mix quite well with Coke though.
Anyway, Monday night I partied like a rockstar. I was drinking. I was dancing. I was not quitting. By the time we all went home, “we” had been reduced from 10 people to 2 people by a combination of heavy drinking and exhaustion. I saw the sunrise like an expat pro.

The forest/jungle came right up to the water.
Tuesday I went with a few other people staying at the resort and we took a tricycle ride over to Puka Shell Beach. The water was warmer, the wind was quick and the waves were strong. It was a beautiful little spot, and it was mostly vacant since it was off-season and all.
That night I was expecting a repeat performance of the previous evening. Drinking and dancing all night long was the plan, however, I ended up going to bed at 10:30pm. My recollections are hazy, but my wonderful new non-judgmental friends helped me piece together the following timeline:
I went to Happy Hour at Ngi Ngi Nu Noos. I arrived at 5pm and drank 2 for 1 cocktails heavily with Norma, Stephanie and Tosin until 7pm. There was bar top dancing, Tosin got behind the bar, and we made friends with some other expats on vacation from Seoul. Things then get much much fuzzier. Apparently at this point, I was left alone at the bar? I then went back to the Marzon alone. I don’t remember this at all, but I’m told that I passed all my new friends walking down the beach. They tried to invite me along to go to the club, but I just ran through the crowd drunk as hell with my head down, saying that I had to get back to my room. The next thing that I can remember is waking up at 5am on my bed, very sandy, and with no pants on.
The plus side is that I got up at 8am bright and early the next day. Wednesday I just bummed around the market for a while. I stayed at the main strip that day and I didn’t do anything to interesting. That night, I drank heavily, of course, and enjoyed some Mongolian buffet right next to the ocean. I don’t know exactly what happened next, but I remember going back to get money from my hotel room and falling asleep watching TV instead.

Island hopping around Boracay
Thursday I went on an island hopping trip in the morning before checking out. We went snorkeling out in the cove where the boats come in. It wasn’t the best coral reef in the world, and it definitely wasn’t the best reef in the Philippines, but I was on a boat in paradise so I’m not complaining. Besides, the guy driving our boat totally dove in and came back up with an agitated and fully inflated puffer fish. (Apparently we kept our engorged aquatic friend out of the water for a tad too long and he swam away sideways and in circles.)
This little snorkeling site, of course, involved an environmental fee. We then went to Crystal Cove, which is a small isle off of the main island. Crystal Cove is amazing, because there are these caves in the cliff on the one side of the island, and you can go down into these caves and snorkel out into the water from them. It was especially exciting when we saw some sort of aquatic snake in the second cave. The guide said it was an eel… but it looked a lot like this but smaller.

I found a friend for a few minutes
This little isle was gorgeous, and we definitely had to pay another “environmental fee” to keep it that way. After Crystal Cove, we returned to the main island for a free buffet that was included in the island hopping trip. At this point, I had to leave so I could check out and get my ass to the airport, but I heard that the rest of the island hopping excursion was a success.
One of the guys that worked at the Marzon gave me a lift back to the resort on his bangin’ scooter. After I finished packing, he drove me back over to the shore where all the boats are beached waiting for a full load to run back to Caticlan. (I heard that the day after I left, one of the boats shuttling people back and forth sort of… uh… sank?) I got back to the other island, and an extremely pushy porter “acquisitioned” my bag. I was annoyed at first, until we got to my final tricycle ride of the trip. The porter got us both on the tricycle for 80 pesos… nearly half of what I’d been paying all week! His English was pretty bad, but I was able to understand the most wonderful phrase of all: “I get you Filipino price.” I tipped that porter heavily, and then I got on a plane for Manila.