Island Paradise

It was 1986 and I was three years old we first came to Boracay. It didn't have many shops and beachfront inns back then and visitors were so seldom that you rarely meet them while meandearing on the shores from one station to another. We swam-island hopped-chilled-beach volleyed-frisbee(d)-built sand castles-played games to while away the day. When night fell, there was no electricity to keep us up and so we took our meals under the light of flickering kerosene lamps (if we were lucky, a full moon). When we grew tired of the visiting fireflies, we jazz-talked our way to sleep under the shelter of mosquito nets while the sea foamed to and fro the shores in a lullaby of sorts.

It was something I never forgot.

Apparently, it was something my parents never forgot as well because we always found ourselves back to Boracay more frequently after that. Of course, the fact that Bacolod was geographically near the Boracay didn't hurt at all.

With each trip I grew older. The beach welcomed more people to its shores. And inevitably, beachfronts and inns proliferated and lined the stations until others had to settle for the inner lots. Malls were built. ATM machines found their way. More cement found its way to the pristine white sands. It seemed that all the construction burdened the island, so much that the shore grew so short, you don't have to go far to walk on the shore during high tide. More and more people that at it's peak, I have to share my swimming spot at Station 1 just after the grotto with strangers local and foreign.

It's not what it used to be. But I'm glad that unlike most people, I got to visit Boracay when it was truly an Island Paradise.

It was last week when I last set foot on Boracay's shores again. That made it the second time I went there this year after our April trip. That made it the nth time I saw Boracay change yet again.

I wonder if Boracay stills remember a little naked girl playing on the beach, burnt to more than a tan, eyes glistening and wet hair tangled, having the time of her life.