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| First time in Boracay since 2015 |
The trip to Boracay finally happened a few weeks ago after months of planning and waiting. I was originally supposed to go last April with, er, someone, but certain status changes, not to mention adjustments in quarantine pronouncements, pushed it back to July. The original plan morphed into a work-from-beach situation with my friend Tanya. I also managed to convince Pedi and Arnie to come and hang out there with me for a few days.
I’ve lost count how many times I’ve been to the island over the years. More than once I’ve said that a trip there is always a good idea. This time was different, though, for a few reasons. I was there for 10 days, which is probably the longest I’ve ever traveled anywhere here in the country (overseas trips are another matter); I was actually working for a huge chunk of the time I was there, which is only possible because of the extraordinary circumstances we’re in now; and, perhaps most importantly, I’ve come to a fairly interesting realization about why I travel relative to the reasons of other people.
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| Me, Tanya, Arnie, and Pedi on Puka Beach |
See, to me, going to a new place has always been about enriching my own personal experiences. Specifically, a vacation to the beach like this one was always about rest and relaxation; a chance to leave the stresses of work and the city for a few days and think about little else but where to have dinner that night or what drinks to order from the bartender as you lie back on the lounge chair, plant your feet on the sand, and gaze out into the ocean.
That—or some variation of it—is probably the default response for a lot of people when asked why they go to the beach. But on this trip, as I spent it both with friends I’ve known for years and newer ones that I’ve essentially only just met, I understood that some people take these trips as an opportunity to expand their social circles, establish connections with a few people with similar motivations, and possibly consummate those relationships through physical interactions of the carnal kind.
In short, to hook up.
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| Me and Tanya hanging out at Movenpick |
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| What's better than reading a book at the beach? |
Not that there’s anything wrong with that, as Seinfeld would say. I’ve absolutely no judgments about those who choose to spend their vacation this way. In fact, if anything, I’ve started to think that maybe these people have the right idea. I realize that’s not exactly kosher these days when a deadly virus is flying around looking for a host to attach itself to, but it’s the idea at least, that’s got me thinking.
It’s not as if the thought hadn’t entered my mind, and, to go even further, not like I hadn’t dipped my toes in these waters in the past. But the point is that any attempt to go out there and hook up with someone when I travel was always a distant second to the other, more wholesome aspects of travel itself.
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| Pedi, me, Tanya, and Jelo after a dip in the ocean at Station Zero |
Which is perhaps why I’ve been having these thoughts now. I’ve been traveling a lot since my late 20s and maybe I should be making up for lost time. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with actively pursuing new relationships when I’m out there instead of staying passive. Maybe there’s value in looking for something else beyond the expected and the mundane when I travel.
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| Alone again, naturally |
On the other hand, maybe the reason I don’t do as my other friends do is that I’m just not built that way. You can run and find or you can sit and wait, but you can’t do both. And maybe I’m just more of the latter. It’s tough to force yourself to do anything if you’re just not into it. And maybe that’s okay, too.
Anyway, Boracay was fun and I’d definitely do this kind of trip again.
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| Will see you again soon |
