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I am a Bicolano by birth and choice. By any standards, I am a slow runner but I like it that way. I look at running as a healthy and exciting way to make a difference. Together with my fellow runners from our family, school, office and the community, we use running to give back..

May 10, 2015

CARAMOAN CHRONICLES: Chillin in Cotivas


Red, red wine
Goes to my head
Makes me forget that I 
Still need her so

Red, red wine
It's up to you
All I can do, I've done
But memories won't go
No, memories won't go

I'd have sworn
That with time
Thoughts of you would leave my head
I was wrong
Now I find
Just one thing makes me forget

Red, red wine
Stay close to me
Don't let me be alone
It's tearin' apart
My blue, blue heart.

Nothing like jamming to some reggae music by UB40 to savor the calming beauty of the tropical paradise that are the Isles of Caramoan.  At that particular time  of reggae nirvana, the Bicolano Penguin  was lazily lounging  on my trusty red director's chair on the sandy beach of a cute little island. Admittedly, it wasn't a glass of red wine that I had my hand on but a bottle of  my favorite Gatorade.  It was red nonetheless to reflect the celebratory spirit we all had in our latest outdoor adventure.





For almost the whole daytime of one summer day, five  83neans immersed ourselves  in Manlawi and Bugtong  in the big Lahuy Island and the small Cotivas Island.  This island was just a short hop and skip away from Bugtong. Crossing by motorized banca the aptly named Pocket Bay, we found ourselves staring at the  golden sand tip of Cotivas.  Marvelous and inviting, especially with  nipa huts lining up its shore.  We did not need a nudge to come scrambling down from the boat.   Especially Allen who had a lot of energy to disrobe his shirt and come  running barefoot and topless on the shore. 







Cotivas is like an oasis.   It has calm waves off its shores as it is protected by two larger islands. It was an ideal  choice for our last stop in the day's island hopping.  We were more relaxed and we had a fun time wading in the calm wave. Soon our asses were parked on the director's chairs allowing us to be conversing any subject under the sun from the mundane like  tugutans and  salivates to more serious stuff like retirement and life after death.  Such is the effect of the blazing sun under our skulls, however thick they are.





But soon it was time to go and leave this island and go back to from whence we came from. Reluctantly, we  boarded our water transport.  On the boat, we found time to thank our boat crew, especially Joseph, a native son of Caramoan  who was a big help in talking about the islands we visited and on taking our photos.  


There are so many beautiful things to talk and write about Caramoan.  More than 1. More than 3. Perhaps even more than 30 which is the number of islands in Caramoan per the local tourist guide. You bet, the Caramoan Chronicles will not stop at 3 stories.  You can bet, we will be back in paradise.    

       


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