There is something with planning that just spoils and preempts a happening. I can’t point it out but it proves that unplanned, out of whim events are usually the ones that turn out epic.
My friends from high school have long been making plans of an island getaway to Anawangin Cove, not like we don’t hit the beach every single time we get together. But Anawangin is this suddenly gone famous attraction in our own town in Zambales and it’s a pressing shame that tourists have gone to adore it even before we town folks do. Yet ironically, just when plans were finally all set, not to mention that most effort was put at finding time in our fussy schedules, a freaking tsunami hit Japan and an overrated tsunami scare on our part of the seas was on. And so we called for rain check.
Now the holidays have come and what better time for homecomings and gatherings than this cheeriest time of the year. So Gara came home from the UK and CJ got back from the States while the rest took a short break from work in the city to share holiday cheers the promdi way.
If my gang had something to consider a tradition, it would be drinking the Christmas’ and New Year’s eve away. Once noche buenas in our own homes are done, we would sneak out and gather in whoever’s crib and, ta-da, grogfest is on. It almost never fails.
This year, we had our sesh over at my BFF Lesley’s place. And like every year, it takes the sunrise for us to give up the a-a-a-alcohol. But only this year, when the sun rose the first time in 2012, a whim struck our drunken minds. CJ had his car and his stash of money while the rest had our burst of hype that we just wouldn’t want to part ways yet at 7 in the am. So.. to the beach did we head! And just like that, we spent the first day of the year in Anawangin.
How crazy impulsive were we? No prep at all. I mean, at all. The clothes we had on were not quite beach-y. We didn’t have swimsuits, flip flops, nor sunglasses on and yet we didn’t care. Our impulse must have come from the influence of tequila, if you ask me. Or better you ask Carina and Mae who were even barfing just before our boat ride. LOL. Once we jumped in on the boat, we knew we’re in for an awesome sun and sand worship.
Hell yeah, we were.
I’m not going to talk up Anawangin because now that I’ve seen it, I can’t help but be quite possessive of it. As most travel blogs give out the preconceived notion that the place is virginal, I wouldn’t want it any more ‘whore-rified’. I mean, that’s the down side to ecotourism. You promote an undiscovered gem, tourists buy it, and before you know it, its mystique downgrades. I want Anawangin Cove cryptic, bare, and savage as it is.
Too bad we didn’t have spare batteries for our camera that we weren’t able to camwhore. Duh.
But as a mental picture, think Survivor. No electricity, no cellular coverage. Just you and your loves, tangled up in nature. You have to camp for the night, make your own fire, cook your food. Hike the mountain, roll your way down, enter caves, or skinny dip if you dare.
We sure are coming back to this para-para-paradise. Perhaps in swimsuits the next time around. And with a tripod. So we can camwhore without end, for crying out loud. Heh.
Still it proves that acting on impulse isn’t bad after all.