Feathers whisper stories and poems of life before.

Feathers whisper stories and poems of life before.
Feathers lie in the cold, it tell stories of life before.
Showing posts with label white sands. Show all posts
Showing posts with label white sands. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

The Trip To Malalison

The Trip to Hidden Paradise Of Malalison now on the Web

The captivating scene of white sands twinkled to the modern eyes, one of the few unique places around the planet which offers delights that are priceless. 

“This could happen in some other times!” To the least of average sanity, every circumstance worked contrary. Yes, tips made the trip handy as said in advance. Necessities were bundled at a dash since the three-day long vacation was a ride from home to school, not be so enough to enjoy what the destination could afford to give. Saving time was the name of the game, and the bulk chunk of what could be saved would enable staying longer in the place where fine relaxation waits than lodged at home for the three consecutive non-working days.

Each one grabbed something to carry except our seven months old baby boy Eyhm whose job was to twist and cry as long as he felt uncomfortable being stocked by anyone. We were sardines in a tin can inside the automobile as we smacked the road going to the town of Tigbauan. At 0703 Friday, 12th of June, we waited the van until 0905. Off the road again at 0910 for the long haul.

The van scampered and the statue backdrops of woods and houses vanished from our sight quicker than any ordinary trips. Maybe the driver sensed that we’re at a “time budget” or drivers drive that style when the destination is far. Three of Iloilo last southern towns we went along so easy, but the town of San Joaquin as we leave and entered Hamtic Antique, the van kicked at turtle speed that started the ascent and descent in the mountain’s twisty passages. From the peak the vehicle dove downward as if we rode in a roller coaster. The van struggled and plowed thru difficult and erect gradient, but no room to stop since after it reached the peak then it plummeted as a swift wind in its descent. A scalpel sliced thru our guts. Though we’re not acquainted with this kind of travel, the enormous surprises the terrain offers loved us. From Lauan to Culasi a gradual change set-in.

A stableward ride began from here, and the fire of excitement extinguished at this level. Still, another one hatched in our gut. Malalison island in sight at the far side of the sea! Until the van pulled off somewhere in close in front of an open gate. A compound which solitary existence among the smaller houses painted a picture of a unique brand of thinking. The premises have a groundbreaking style of skill for the owner, and even to those who plan to subscribe to the services.


My comrades alighted from the van and strutted towards the counter and missed what I saw. I clicked shots of those which stood as a welcome party of the premises and carried myself to join with those who missed the colors and shapes we passed by. I sense something Invigorating as inside the compound was a fresher pastoral aroma that enveloped its space. We spread around the reception tables in front and the far right side of the counter--placed the best foot for a pose, and some of us acted as sitting dolls themselves. Others nailed their sights on the cable TV, sipped sodas--unaffected by the roller coaster ride. We were there inside the premises, the spot where we waited for the fairy godmother.

More or less two hours ago we alighted from the van a lady appeared cumbersome, walked with her were tons of food boxes and utensils. Just a simple one in her casual dress  as her way of speaking with well-defined gestures. Mrs. Salazar looked younger than 50 and a friend of my wife in Iloilo city. String of chitchat went unbroken made her busy arranged our lunch. Seafood and beef steaks lined on the table, but the stewed vegetables with fish inspired our palate. More and more cooked rice got out of the rice box while conversation exchanges kept on. Fourteen hundred hours we cleaned up whatever's left on the table.

We pulled out from Anna Sophie Hostel few minutes passed fourteen hundred hours June 12, 2015. The accessible means of public transport were the six-sitter (max sitting capacity) tricycles. Got two tricycles to Culasi boulevard as jumping off point to Malalison island a 10 to 15 minutes ride depending on the tide.

Two motorized boats sliced the transparent water. Nestled on a literal crystal water I have ever seen and to calculate whether the water was shallow difficult. We sat on a narrow top of the boat. The situation brought alarm since my wife held our baby boy of seven-month-old. I strapped my right arm around her shoulder and my left anchored to the side where I pinched or gripped to balance. A small post served as my wife's backup through a twelve-minute cross. We sailed through the glassy brine with minimum discomfort. Across us, a body of water, motionless as an oil sleeps in Christmas eve.

The white sandbar was a rubber, stretched to reach the mainland Culasi. The boat passed its tip and maneuvered right then beached in the front of rows of shades and rest houses. There, an open registering post sized us up as we slow-walked towards them to register. We stood as a group of entrants to the place. It was almost three when eight of us ushered to Anna Sophie cottages. We got one of the five fan rooms reserved by our fairy godmother who, at the same time served as partner-caterer of Anna Sophie. We dumped the pieces of luggage inside but needed for the swim. No time wasted.

The island of Malalison was a beach itself. The white sand and crystal water alone served as eesome perimeter line--a belt around the island. The sand bar I mentioned was long  enough to accommodate a multitude of swimmers side by side. But we started at the main shoreline nearer to movable shades and stores. Many guests thronged in this portion. There, boulders at the bottom served as safe houses of colored fish. Snorkeling and swimming go hand and glove here. No meretriciousness but the trueness of pristine gift from God.

Sometimes we stood at the boulders glued in the bed. Nothing to do but to rest awhile floated like a pole stood to act as a periscope; to observe how everybody moves, dresses, plays, swims, and snorkel. The mere of seeing people around suggested a world of gladness more than the expensive decorations on the wall. It gave colors that made one’s heart beats with pleasure a dozen times more when seeing through an animated ambiance. The shouts, shrieks, laughs and splashes pervaded the balmy breeze.  

Colors everywhere grew softer. The sunburn-friendly spot where we splashed, toned into a mild-skin-friendly warming--twinned with the soft wind in our faces. The sun shrank its calf below the line that connected the tips of trees and peaks of standing mounts. this nature's high-rise structures stood there to draw a line and underneath that line formed a natural big lab where lights and colors synthesized, transmuted to emerge as a widespread slight--temperature, ripe orange lighting.

Sunset was difficult to see. It took a long walk since we stayed opposite of it. We missed the day. We couldn't see how the sun sets. We missed how the golden rays burst in the horizon when the sun hid its fiery head beneath nature's line created a Kingdom of gold which domain encompasses both heaven and earth.

We stood on the shore and looked at the sun with regret why we did not transfer on the other side beforehand. Nothing was done but swim again. No idea that an unexpected broke into a circumstance in the final minutes. We noticed that the bunch of clouds in the southwest glowed. The sun touched the line. It hurried in its descent and one minute was far longer to hide its brilliance. Twilight covered the place and the last light oozed out just to hit the clouds. But the darkness that ate the leftover of the sun did not took away our appetite to swim. It even inspired us moved further to the sand bar.  

Other guest swimmers discovered that place. The smooth bed and the gentle contour shallower to deeper commanded a safety features for those inexperienced swimmers. I got an idea, the portion carved its prominence as the clearest and the best to night swim. Something pricked us, other than mosquitoes. The bite was quick but made us jerky. I experienced once in my childhood that kind of bite near the river from gnats.

The two boys brought munchies from our cottage and one of the the two reasons we did not see them for a time. We nibbled as long as we stayed in the water until  we were tired and knew there's less tap water left in the cottage. The little boy slept but woke up because of the bite and he was starving. On that note, we got up from the water and strutted back to the cottage.

The hectic activity of swimming  in the beach took its toll in our energy. Big amount of calories shedded-off had us no different to a low-bat cellphone. Still, the crowded bathroom put me on the last line while others scuttled away to a nearby deep well for rinsing. Less than twenty minutes, not one missing inside the room. Others were too quick to rinsing-off and found themselves confused where their phone was--to text or to charge a battery. All minds were set on how our dinner was going. Around 1930 hrs. Mrs. Salazar showed up with food boxes, skittered towards the table, motioned us for the dinner. We dined as conversations went on with  who was inclined to invite us for a few cans of lights after dinner. Sleepiness and exhaustion forbid an occasion to drink beer and to retire early was the best choice. We didn’t got ample time to explore the sandbar and what was really out  there.

At six-twenty-two AM June 13, I slipped out of the cottage with my mobile phone and coins in my pocket. I like the taste and aroma of hot coffee in the morning in the open--I feel free in that setting. Unaware that Anna Sophie served coffee free any time of the day right there beside the cottage. I intended to see the morning shoreline while I sipped a smoky coffee from a big mug, most of all, how the sand bar looked like in that time of the day.

Few shrieks and yells from beach addicts were heard who took the opportunity of being early while they stayed in the island. I took four shots of the transcended scenery and fumbled back to the cottage; no store yet open on that wee hours of the morning.

Here again, we missed the foods for breakfast earlier than we did at home and the reasons seen in our faces were obvious. Vegetable freshly picked, fish caught by the natives gave superior tastes than menus loaded with food preservatives and enhancers. Again, we finished at a dash what were in the table for what was left to us was a half day to stay in the Malalison.

Swimmed again! The midpoint of the sandbar served our staging area for safety reasons to give allowance for ocular sortie before tracing the shoreline going to the other side. How clean and crystal clear, there was no difference with portions we swimmed the other day except the bottom rocks free. More guests came in groups of all ages wore different swim gear and suites. Oh, we saw two middle-aged couple with a suitcase with them, who took the other side in front of us. Well, suitcase brought in the sandbar was a unique option in this kind of place but for those whose intention were other than swimming.

Me and my wife traced the waterline up to the other side excited by our seething imagination we hatched the previous day. We took leave and enjoyed every inch of the breast-deep brine; rolling, fluttering, talking, floating. Less than thirty minutes we were at the oval tip of sandbar peering at the grandeur of the nature’s sculpted curves, projected from the main shoreline. Small ripples when pump boats passed emitted quick reflections as if thousands of diamonds scattered by the sea. We stayed up longer here then moved as we did before we reached the tip.  

They fished on the shore the couple we saw with the suitcase less an hour ago. Unmindful they were, the woman played with the ripples  while the man mended the line and reel in a short rod. We looked at them amused when they gave out an impression of frolicsome setting by juveniles.  We were about 10 meters from them but didn't went further to leave them undisturbed.

Animated scenes blended with the sounds and colors on the beach kept our heart pumped livelier than when we were teenagers. Our stay on the other side was brief enough to have a peek what was up there.

Sun climbed easily that day, Saturday 13th of June and the delightful moment at Malalison winded up. Hours sprinted at blinding speed and we sat at the narrow top of the pump boat as the white sands of Malalison and its reaching sandbar faded from our eyes. The group rode in two pump boats to view the island one more time before leave-taking from Malalison to Culasi. We waived on cave stop because of time constraint.

On the way home we met inconveniences on our arrival in San Jose when the driver announced we transfer to another vehicle for Iloilo. It took a little time got on board to a Ceres Liner bus and less than fifteen minutes departed with film in my brain played a vivid movie of the escaped.

We met problem upon our arrival in San Jose when the driver announced we transfer to another vehicle for Iloilo. It used up a little time set out on board to a Ceres Liner bus and less than fifteen minutes departed with film in my brain played a vivid movie of the escapa

Malalison island is a remote island under the administrative authority of Culasi town. Development as sighted to be one of the tourist destination is an accurate vision of the municipality of Culasi. A standard tourist accommodations only available in Culasi town proper would need a regular travel by pumpboat back and forth. To spend more time on the beach and save money with the added challenge of persisting in a native manner of lifestyle--renting one of the cottages is recommended.

We came across difficulties in our close expedition and have them while on staying there. But the enjoyment and the appreciation of nature offset them--the fresh food and air, crystal clean water and the beautiful scenery near or far alone are high commodities so priceless that one will seek few moments they are out sight.