It's 29 degrees today in the Costa Del Sol, por fin!
The weather has been diabolical the past weeks and I thought I was living in North Pole instead of the sunny Spain. The start of Spring has been hideous; non-stop rain and dark clouds. The weather seemed to have a very long psychotic attack and with the help of anti-depressants, it´s gone back now to it´s sanity.
From my terrace, I could see half naked men and women almost running towards the now packed beach.
I am not a beach person and the beach is the last thing why I am rejoicing with the return of the sun. I always think that the sea is for the fish and that the universe has rightfully chosen an organism's habitat and that we should respect it as much as we respect each other's space. However, looking back, some of the best moments of my life happened...in all places, the beach.
Back in the fabulous third world, the beaches are pristine with emerald waters, sugar fine white sand (a far cry from the dark, dusty beaches here in Costa del Sol) and yes, I use to go on holidays to these places not because I want to bake under the frying sun and develop skin cancer but because I was with friends and I love the wild tropical night life there was. Boracay tops my list of favorites. My first trip there was in 2002 and it was quite unplanned. My friends and I were chatting one midnight over bottles of wine ( Oh, god how I miss those days) when suddenly, the idea popped up. At 5:30 in the morning, we were in airport going on a 6 am flight to the island, hammered and heads swirling from the previous night's alcohol binge.
The island was generous enough to present me with a gift as a newcomer---a gorgeous 29 year old ( I was 23 back then. Oh my God! he is 34 now!) Australian stud! It happened so fast, actually. Met him in our first night out, ¨hi¨, ¨hello¨ and the next thing I knew, I was already in his hotel room (I still blush whenever I remember these things. hahaha). The morning after was sweet. He was still fast asleep when I left his place tiptoeing. I left him a message though on a crap of paper about my whereabouts.
On my way to the hotel (it was about 6am), I saw my friend Angel (who like me just decided on the trip that night) heading home coming from a different direction.
¨Hey Angel,where have you been?¨
¨Shopping¨ (shopping at 6 am..in the islands. Get that.)
¨No, you didn't!¨, I gasped.
and we laughed like we won the lottery.
Angel had been with a young, gorgeous and I mean GORGEOUS brit that night. I introduced him to her before I even met the Aussie and obviously I didn't know what happened next since I left them earlier.
Mind you, in 4 days that we stayed in the islands, I never used our hotel room. It was fantastic. For the first time, I thought I I had a pure romance. I was wrong. It was only a summer romance and just like any other holiday romances, It had to end. Mine ended in vertigo. It was a long story but I always like to think it ended when I flew back to Manila.
Years after, I went back to Boracay for two more times. I was yearning for the same excitement. It never happened. In 2004, I visited Palau in The Micronesia and it was a breathtaking place however, the fun and excitement I always have whenever I am in Boracay is impassable.
In the island where I was born and grew up, Oriental Mindoro, the famous beaches of Puerto Galera served as an exotic rendezvous for my an illicit affair I had before. Well, it's not really as bad as it may sound. The guy had a boyfriend, they have an open relationship, were both on fire, so we did it. As simple as that. The bad thing though is, the boyfriend knows me personally.
Reason why you should not sleep with an attached man? At the end of the day, he will squeal. Looking back, all my beach romances ended up in a disaster.Oh, well, all my relationship were disastrous anyway.
Today, I thought of going to the nudist beach 15 minutes where I live. Two summers back, I met an Argentinean-Arab guy there and I swear, he was as beautiful as his bronze skin. We ended up in his car under the 30 degrees sun, up the hills of nowhere. Oh, yes, Miss Julie...the hills are alive...they truly are.
I packed my gear and was ready to go. I changed my mind. my bed was calling me. The breeze from my terrace was hypnotic and I doze...with memories of white sand.
Monday, 7 May 2007 at 13:13 Posted by LuxuryHappy