A Hundred Things to Share

Days before Friday were full of excitement in anticipation of the outdoor adventure at the Hundred Islands National Park in Pangasinan. I prepared a checklist of camping and beach essentials and off I went to the nearest mall the day before the departure. It didn’t take long before I could have all items on the list ticked. Two great buys I was so happy about were the China-made tent costing just one grand (can accommodate two) and a hundred-peso led flashlight that later proved efficient being reliable.

Coming from a shift, I had a couple of hours to pack up before I headed towards the meeting place Friday morning. What was an agreed upon 10am sharp departure became two hours late. Good thing, the bus was comfortable I could rest well for the entire long trip, I thought. But rest I didn’t as I couldn’t—at least for the first couple of hours. Thanks to our resident clown who didn’t fail to crack us up showing no signs of stopping. It was after all a reunion of some sort of wacky college friends—he came prepared. After more than five hours being on the road just laughing, dozing from time to time and listening to the music of some Bob Marley mimics, we finally arrived at Alaminos City—a relatively thickly populated slope-py town, home of the Hundred Islands.

As the others started to stack our victuals for the next two days from Alaminos’ wet market, our bus parked in front of Nepo Mart—Alaminos’ response to Pasay’s Mall of Asia. While waiting for everyone to take in the sails, vendors of local delicacies swarmed the premises hoping to make a sale. Finally after more than 30 minutes of waiting, the tires began to roll—we were now seaport bound. It was almost sunset when we got there. Two motor boats had been lying in wait for us to embark and place our load on. As a compromise was finally reached that put a stop to the becoming prolonged negotiations with the boatmen who now demanded a bigger charge than what was previously agreed upon, the boat engines were at last started. The boat ride to the islands wasn’t bouncy, the sea being almost tranquil. Darkness starting to thicken, only outlines of the islands and islets were visible from afar. After more than 30 minutes, we finally landed on the shores of Quezon Island—three limestone islets joined by a white sand plane and a wooden bridge—where we intended to camp out in the next two days. Even though it was dark already, it was clear the sand was yellowish white.

There were structures built on the rocky islands for rent—relatively cheap. This we gathered is the only island visitors are allowed to spend the night on. While others were busy preparing our meal for the night, we excitedly raised our tents—where we made our beds on—against the strong winds. After a mouthwatering meal, we decided to retire for the night. Alas, the rain started to pour coupled with strong winds—all the tents but mine failed to stand it all. But as sprinkles of rain water now started to get inside my tent—last tent standing, I decided to join the others making beds on the tables inside the cottages. A thick jacket and two blankets kept me warm guaranteeing a relatively sound sleep through the cold and windy night.

Much stronger winds and a sky with thickening dark clouds greeted our second day at the island. One side of the island presented a view of troubled waters. The other side, in contrast, still showed almost still waters. With the light of day, the island’s splendor became evident—almost white sand, relatively clear greenish waters. But I had to concur with an observation that it wasn’t as majestic as any other beaches in the country. But well, it was high tide. Much of the white sand shoreline was submerged. A storm was approaching so the waters weren’t so pellucid. But its seclusion and the feeling that you own the island made it all thrilling.

It was when we were busy preparing our breakfast when the beans were spilled to us—a strong storm was coming so we had to head back to the mainland by 10am; island hopping had to be cancelled. So immediately after again a delectable meal, and knowing we only had just a little more than two hours left at the island, we rushed to the beach and enjoyed the wavy warm water. We then transferred to the other side of the island and sat by the wooden bridge letting the much stronger waves repeatedly whip us. Masochistically enjoyable!

Until we had to leave. Three motor boats arrived at 10 almost precisely. In no time, everyone was on board. Our journey back to the mainland was anything but safe. Big strong winds brought about huge waves—thumping and lifting to some feet high our seemingly flimsy boats. Now that’s enjoyable. Not! Splatters of brine and showers of the rain from all directions got us all soaked. The roaring sea calmed down as we entered the passage bordered by some bigger islands and some smaller ones. The thumping resumed as we sailed past the still waters. We held onto both sides of the boat and started clinging to—not wearing—some life vests. After minutes of this perilous ride and dread uncertain if we’re gonna make it alive to the mainland, we were finally almost on shore. The now readable sign “The Last Resort” guaranteed us of a safe return.

We headed straight to an inn (see contact details at the end of this blog entry) where we got a shower and had a tasty meal. Here we learned a room, good for four already, costs just PhP1,200-1,400. And that they offer an island hopping tour package for less than PhP1,500/day/boat (maximum of 14 persons). On a sunny day sometime soon, we agreed to try that instead.

We thought we experienced the worst already. Not until we experienced Cosme wreaking havoc while spending the night at a resort—which we thought was safe for us to spend the night on—in Dansol, Pangasinan. The picture you see, doesn't seem to give justice to the mayhem we experienced/witnessed. What an experience! Now beat that!

SWEET HONEY HOTEL

(Bayside) 100 Islands

Lucap Boulevard, Alaminos City 2404

Pangasinan

Tel No.: (075) 551-2800

Mobile: 09279223498