Seizing moments in El Nido

LIFE is a series of moments. Yet we often think of life as a whole, asking ourselves “Am I living happily?,” instead of “Am I happy right this moment?”

Our plane starts to descend to Lio airport. I look out the small window. Sea. Islets. There is something about being on a plane that makes me think deeper than usual.

I smile at the courteous, red-lipped flight attendant as I step out of AirSWIFT’s 50-seater aircraft.

Trees. Sky. Mountains fading in the distance. It feels like home, yet I’m in El Nido, Palawan for the first time. I look up at the wide blue sky and remember my childhood in Leyte, running down empty streets, chased by the shadow of a cloud.

A jeepney arrives to fetch me and my companions, mostly travel agents. At the top of the jeepney--the prettiest one I’ve seen in my life, with images of tropical fishes on its sides and roof—are three words written in bold letters: LOVE. DREAM. ADVENTURE.

Inside, I feel like an intruder in a world of two-dimensional fishes. I sit by the window, the slanting rays of the late afternoon sun assaulting my bespectacled eyes.

We arrive at AirSWIFT’s passenger terminal after a short ride. Five women in red skirts and a man playing a guitar welcome us with a joyful song we don’t understand. It’s a Cuyonon song, the oldest of the women, perhaps in her early 60s, tells me.

The airport terminal consists of two wooden lounges with white-painted walls and nipa roofs. Bags sit on a bamboo platform connected to a tree, between whose branches a circular chunk of wood says, “Baggage Area”. Tanned foreign tourists wait for their flight in the departure lounge. A board by the entrance enumerates the “Ten El Ni-Do’s”, which, basically, are proper ways of treating the environment. A solitary carabao stands under the shade of a nearby tree.

Life in paradise

Two vans arrive to collect our group. Dusk has blanketed El Nido. Silhouettes of trees, houses, carabaos and mountains stream past the closed window. Dusk is my favorite part of the day. It’s the best time to just sit and be still, to wait for a perfect moment.

We arrive at Rovic’s Tourist Hotel after 15 minutes. It’s a four-storey hotel between a red-and-orange hardware store and a shop advertising El Nido tour packages. In the lobby, a small shelf cradles European books. De Eetclub. De Nacht Gaat Voorbij. Die Tore Der Welt. Outside, young Caucasians in shorts and sleeveless shirts walk by.

I’m not surprised seeing so many foreign tourists. According to readers of US travel magazine Condé Nast Traveler, El Nido has the most beautiful beaches in the world, and Palawan, the most beautiful island.

Banking on El Nido’s appeal, AirSWIFT has opened a new route: Cebu to El Nido. For years, the airline company has been transporting tourists from Manila to El Nido. It launched the new route so travelers in Cebu don’t have to go to Manila to fly to El Nido, or fly to Puerto Princesa and take a six-hour land trip to El Nido. The flight from Cebu takes an hour and 40 minutes.

I go out after checking in. Standing across from the hotel, I see a limestone cliff towering over the town. I hear the gentle lapping of waves on the beach just behind the shops and houses. I walk through the street narrowed by parked rickshaws whose shape reminds me of frogs. The signs of the enterprises lining the street amuse me. Big Mamas Pinoy Hot Pot and Grill. Spider Booking Office. D’ Art of Touch Massage and Spa. Fast and Furious Booking Office.

We dine in a restobar called Art Cafe, a five-minute walk from the hotel. Two paintings hung near the ceiling show children playing games I grew up with, but children now don’t play: hide and seek and sungka. Behind me is a painting of a scowling dog, and a shelf filled with books. In the dim light, I can make out John Grisham, Mary Higgins Clark and Nora Roberts. I’m tempted to take one book off the shelf and read the first few sentences, a habit of mine in bookstores, but then I see a judgmental note: NO STEALING PLEASE.

The restobar is full, occupied mostly by foreign tourists. I wonder what their lives were like in their countries, these young travelers. I admire their courage to travel so far in pursuit of adventure, of moments they will never forget.

A long-haired foreign man nods his head rhythmically as the live band plays a Pink Floyd song. “We don’t need no education...We don’t need no thought control...” Seated beside him is a woman I assume to be his lover, his spirits lifted by alcohol and music, he is probably having a perfect moment. I drink a bottle of beer. I want to have a perfect moment, too. But I realize I need sleep, not a perfect moment in a crowded bar.

I wake up the next day excited to see the sea. The day is bright and warm. Looking around outside the hotel, I feel overwhelmed that I’m in El Nido, away from Cebu’s urban bustle. I relish the sound of footsteps in the street, the sight of smiling tourists and locals walking in their slippers, the smell of clean air.

Wearing a life vest, I hop on a motorized boat with 19 other people. Our first stop will be the island of Miniloc, says our 38-year-old guide Cris. In impressive English, he shares facts about El Nido. The town’s name, he says, is a Spanish one, which means “The Nest”. It has 45 islets, and is home to at least 855 species of fish. All the five species of turtles that can be found in the Philippines, I learn, are also in El Nido.

Click worthy

“El Nido is best for snorkeling and diving,” says Cris. Aside from diving and snorkeling, one can also explore caves and engage in water sports like canoeing, kayaking and paddle boarding.

“Welcome to the most beautiful place in the world!” Cris exclaims, ending his spiel, as we cruise past limestone cliffs.

Cameraphones start clicking as soon as we step onto the long white dock of Miniloc Island Resort. I take a picture of the cliff partly covered by plants and trees. I shake my head as I review the photo. The camera just can’t capture beauty as well as my eyes.

I imagine myself standing on the top of the cliff, looking down at the cottages, the long dock and islets in the distance. Miniloc is unlike the beaches I have been to. Walking on the beach and gazing at the bay, I’ve never been so awestruck by nature’s beauty.

The resort has 50 rooms and cottages. We marvel at the interiors, at the views from the windows. Miniloc Island Resort is one of the four properties of the El Nido Resorts. Equally beautiful are the island resorts of Lagen, Apulit and Pangulasian.

I’m happy to learn about the efforts of El Nido Resorts to preserve the environment where it operates. I’m impressed at the initiatives to protect the sea turtles, corals, fishes and birds. Alisandra Abadia, one of El Nido Resorts’ environmental officers, tells us they don’t serve edible bird’s nest for soup because birds shouldn’t be deprived of their nests. “It’s not sustainable,” she says. They also operate a sewage treatment facility and a materials recovery facility. El Nido Resorts also has an organic farm that supplies some of the food served to their guests.

We ride the boat again to Entalula Island where lunch awaits us. It’s a rough ride. I gaze at the imposing limestone cliffs as seawater splashes my face. There is something about boat rides that inspires meditation. I find myself pondering life, on the human condition. A thought—a question, really—hit me, and it was comforting: isn’t the purpose of life to wander and to wonder?

My companions frolicked on the beach after our lunch. I stay in my chair. We get back on the boat as the sun starts to descend from its peak, and head for Pangulasian Island. It’s the most luxurious of the four resorts, we’re told. On this island, one can watch both sunrise and sunset in all their glory.

It is mid-afternoon when we arrive. Our resort guide, a Palawan native with impeccable English, shows us around on a golf cart. I turn my head to the left to watch the shining sea, and to the right to appreciate the forest. A monkey ruffles the leaves as we pass by.

After seeing the elegant villas, we return to the reception area. I look out at the bay dotted with islets. I feel a force pulling me to the sea, a wave of desire to seize the moment, to disappear beneath the waters. I look back at the moments since I stepped foot on El Nido. They come in images: the solitary carabao, the long-haired man lost in music, the European books, the scowling dog, Fast and Furious Booking Office.

I can’t remember the last time I tasted seawater. I take off my shirt. Barefoot, I run to the sea, as waves roll to the shore.

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