Nighttime was different, palanggas. It was literally hot, hot, hot in every sense of the word. There were also hot happenings along the resto and bar strip aside from the windless, breeze-less hot nights. It was so still, you’d get shocked to the bone loosing the cool cologne you’d just sprayed yourself with at your cool air-conditioned room (like the one I had at the most luscious pearl of the island, the Pearl of the Pacific) before partying way until morning.
Boracay, dahlings, turned into a banner island this year. There were banners everywhere, even on Kalibo’s well-made roads to Caticlan. The banners easily prepared your mind for the events that lay ahead.
There was Smart’s red and black addict user mobile banners; Vortex Petroleum banners; Globe’s cool blue or white sails with giant G "spot" insignias on the sails (moi fave banner of all). Proving that you’re a hip Gentxter at certain points around the beech front, you could hop on sail boats and breeze along to the other end of the island especially during sunset time.
Since it was Holy Week, the island turned into a combination of Makati, Malate, Quezon City, Alabang and Pasay City. The movers and the do nothing-ers from most of the Southern islands trekked in. So if you thought you were in for a peaceful beach vacation, think again, palanggas, because it became one of the most unholy week moi has experienced.
Boracay turned into a battlefield between Globe and Smart, both outdoing each other with happenings. There were sounds galore, booze and tons of drinking water. It came to a point that one didn’t even know who was throwing the party of the night. Walking along the beach walk we couldn’t decide which DJs were spinning the best sounds. Even on Good Friday there was a place that still attracted lots of party seekers. Our groupie and other "brain-dead" invitees (from too much of partying) like us decided to just chill it out at the beach front of the popular Pearl of the Pacific.
Well, after several nights of hard partying, palanggas, mega Southern businessman Greg Sanson, his eye-catching wife Marilou Tirol-S. and their super gracious workasonic daughter Rita; Mr. Off-the-shoulder Louie Cruz and his tall, handsome partner Sandro Rieta of Mc Sandro; multi-talented furniture designer Budji Layug; and jet-setting Tito Manapat decided to host a grand dinner for their gang.
The moon was in its full glory – and so was the buffet table! Among those who enjoyed the mixed field greens with Granny Smith apple salad and aged cheddar with toasted cashew were Sen. Sonny Osmeña; PR man and columnist Donnie Ramirez; brilliant interior designer and landscaper Bobby Borja; and Raffy Osmeña.
Others returned for second and third servings of the yummy fresh oysters and savoring the sweetest crabs in the island (which can only be found in Mc Sandro Bistro) and the best charcoal grilled delights in Boracay.
Relaxing by the luau-style table along the wide, wide beach front of Pearl were Danny Jota; Egar Suelo; Orson Orleans; Rose Cacho; Andy Grey; Bianca Balestero; and Bonette Balacano. Everyone couldn’t wait for the next day to listen to the latest chill out music Tito Manapat brought back with him from one of his many Ibiza trips. Not to mention the 120 bottles of red wine he also imported from Spain which all of us beach bums sipped that night. Other upper drinks included the best champagnes from Ralph Joseph’s popular Ralph Liquor Store conveniently located at the center of D’Mall. It is superbly stocked, dahlings, with only the finest.
Naturellement, loads of thanks were heaped on Greg and Marilou and Rita Sanson for the superb culinary masterpieces which the invitees will definitely not forget in the many full moons to come.
On my way to the buffet for more exotic fresh fruits, ravishing glam gal Vicky Zubiri and moi overheard Louie Cruz saying, "I can’t wait for Easter Sunday to hunt for those delicious eggs!" I have never seen so many hunky, muscled dudes and gorgeous head turner babes in one small space, all in one island.
Easter in Boracay beats St. Tropez anytime! And golden sun-tanned, eye-catching Ibiza-based beauty, Marian Toledo completely agrees. Well, palanggas, I’m all set and already booked for New Year’s and next Easter’s holidays at the wonderful Pearl of the Pacific.
Finally, a clean water system has arrived in the island! But please, please, and one more please! Can our tourism personas or the mayor or politician of Boracay do something about the road? For the last six years I’ve been going to Boracay – several times a year, in fact – the roads appear like they are in a war zone. To move around, one usually jumps into a tricycle – which is where your lungs, heart, spinal cord and head get banged up and shaken while you frantically try not to inhale the dust and exhaust fumes shooting out from the tricycles. A single ride is enough to give you respiratory poisoning, a slip disc, a blood clot in the head, or, if you’re pregnant, a miscarriage. What in the world does it take to concrete one or two miles of the busiest section of the island? After all, isn’t this island supposed to be our crown jewel that attracts tourists from all over the world? Natch, one could walk along the beach. But try walking from a point of happening to another resort all partied out and blurry eyed. It ain’t as cool as you may think!
The order of the day, especially at sunset time was Vodka Martinis of all types and flavors, and strawberry daiquiri with an extra shot of rum, the perfect starter for a good dinner at several top-A restos scattered around Boracay.
Easily the it place of super happenings was that Miami-type bar and resto, Hey Jude. The latest places to see and be seen at the Mall (which young entrepreneur Juan Elizalde and his partner, restaurateur and hotelier el simpatico Paulo Occhionero own) are the excellent Italian resto, simply called ARIA and Café del Sol, where you’ll enjoy superb Coffee Shop and its yummy pasttiseries also owned by the enterprising pair. Not far behind from the working duo was gorgeous eye-catcher Bianca Araneta usually doing the accounting, making out the menu on the computer and taking photos of the food served to be when she and Juan are not busy circulating with their newfound clientele and pals who frequent the place like forever.
And at the backside of the Mall, you’ll find the super yummy Mc Sandro resto where home cooking is at its best!
Whenever I woke up before 11, I would dash over to the other end of the island where I’d detox and sock in the sun at the renowned Sun Village resort. Here you won’t find the mob from the other part of the strip baking themselves and swimming. More importantly, there are no nik-niks (sand flees) or vendors to harass you.
After almost a week and a half of endless partying until way past the break of dawn, boozing and eating at some of the best restos around, the gang was completely wiped out. We had to slow down and the only way was to fly back to Cosmo Manille for a less hectic pace with our rich golden tan.
And you know what? In spite of the crater road, the pollution from the tricycles and being banged around in them, the early morning nights, the drinking and partying plus the horrendous jacked-up prices everywhere, I’d still return to Boracay anytime at a drop of a 50 cent coin. There is still no place like it, palanggas.
Catch you around,dahlings.