Life simply loses its novelty when you put too much logic into it.Process Thought tells us that the quality of life suffers in predictability. Life simply loses its novelty when you put too much logic into it. Maybe we really just wanted some dreams to feel real: pristine beaches, D. in a white bikini, and being in an amusement park for our hearts. So we decided one night to join a trip to the beach the next morning.
We had a few drinks in Ortigas the night before, but still managed, excitedly, to wake up at 5am. From a gas station in Mandaluyong, we joined the bus with P., who always had excellent stories from the grassroots to the government to the imported chocolate-filled refrigerator of the British Council. P. got in the bus from the terminal. We were also supposed to be with S. who had just finished a drinking binge until 4am.
The story was that P. waited for S. outside the bus in the terminal. His stuff was already in the bus – laptop, board shorts, beach clothes, boy bawang and all. S. was late and the bus was leaving, P. still waiting outside. When the bus left without him, he ran and chased it from the Cubao station to the Nepa-Q-Mart.
He made it, the laptop and the boy bawang right where he left it. S. can just follow later. While we didn’t drive our own car to Batangas, the trip itself was relieving. It was a sunny day partnered with a cool October breeze. I’m glad to be traveling in shorts and slippers and shades, a backpack and D. - most of all. It was a glorious morning. We sang along to songs from the iPod and read a page or two of Lonely Planet Thailand during the bus ride.
We met S. at the Batangas port. At the boat, young people on the way to the beach took pictures of themselves in their camera phones and brought their iPods out. I saw a tab or two of valiums on one of their bags. The water was calm and the trip itself, calming. Everyone looked out when a dolphin jumped in the water. But this scared D., who couldn’t tell a shark from a dolphin.
Upon arriving at the usually crowded White Beach, we traveled by land to another island, Talipana,. We met up with F. and his friends. They were already settled in and already having lunch a Luca’s. It was an Italian Restaurant by the beach, owned and operated by an Italian, Luca, and his Filipina wife. The oven-baked pizza was excellent, not to mention how you get to smell baking bread, pesto, or thick tomato sauce from the pasta – having it all in a relatively quiet beachfront. You hear a familiar Chillout tune – something from Zero 7.
And there we were.
We had a few drinks in Ortigas the night before, but still managed, excitedly, to wake up at 5am. From a gas station in Mandaluyong, we joined the bus with P., who always had excellent stories from the grassroots to the government to the imported chocolate-filled refrigerator of the British Council. P. got in the bus from the terminal. We were also supposed to be with S. who had just finished a drinking binge until 4am.
The story was that P. waited for S. outside the bus in the terminal. His stuff was already in the bus – laptop, board shorts, beach clothes, boy bawang and all. S. was late and the bus was leaving, P. still waiting outside. When the bus left without him, he ran and chased it from the Cubao station to the Nepa-Q-Mart.
He made it, the laptop and the boy bawang right where he left it. S. can just follow later. While we didn’t drive our own car to Batangas, the trip itself was relieving. It was a sunny day partnered with a cool October breeze. I’m glad to be traveling in shorts and slippers and shades, a backpack and D. - most of all. It was a glorious morning. We sang along to songs from the iPod and read a page or two of Lonely Planet Thailand during the bus ride.
We met S. at the Batangas port. At the boat, young people on the way to the beach took pictures of themselves in their camera phones and brought their iPods out. I saw a tab or two of valiums on one of their bags. The water was calm and the trip itself, calming. Everyone looked out when a dolphin jumped in the water. But this scared D., who couldn’t tell a shark from a dolphin.
Upon arriving at the usually crowded White Beach, we traveled by land to another island, Talipana,. We met up with F. and his friends. They were already settled in and already having lunch a Luca’s. It was an Italian Restaurant by the beach, owned and operated by an Italian, Luca, and his Filipina wife. The oven-baked pizza was excellent, not to mention how you get to smell baking bread, pesto, or thick tomato sauce from the pasta – having it all in a relatively quiet beachfront. You hear a familiar Chillout tune – something from Zero 7.
And there we were.
