FROM BORACAY TO GREECE
BY MALU FERNANDEZ - Summer comes and goes. Most of the time I am out if the country for work. But I’m stuck here, I ignore the heat and stay in a temperature-controlled room of 18 degrees – cold enough to make the windows sweat. This year I decided to go off tangent and pick places I have never been to before.
Much to my chagrin, I had never been to the beach. You see, I hate the sand, the bugs and the mosquitoes, but I figured it would be fun with everyone around. As we reached the villa I was spraying Baygon everywhere. I thought I had nearly killed myself with all the insect repellant and Lysol disinfectant I kept on spraying. I am so not into roughing it up. For me, the minimum requirement for traveling is a Holiday Inn.
A couple of days later saw us walking down to Station 2 where D’mall was and I was trying my best not to freak out as the beach was filled with algae, which were collecting on my Adidas all-terrain. (I refuse to wear Havaianas and scratch my pedicure.) Finally as we walked back , I was dazzled by a beautiful white structure, so white it glistened under the sun. This brilliant apparition was Discovery Shores, an oasis in the middle of the island. Not only do the staff headed by Jun Parreno make you feel at home, the food by chef David Pardo de Ayala is fabulous as well. And after seeing the whole poolside and the fabulous rooms done by Budgi Layug, I wanted to move there. But I was too ashamed to ditch my friends and forego the huge amount I already paid for my share of the villa. So I promised to go back another time in order to luxuriate in their fabulous surroundings.
Meanwhile, when all of this was going on, I was on the cell phone with my jet set buddy Ron Sato planning an impromptu trip. You see, Ron is my travel buddy who lives in Los Angeles, so between his schedule and mine, the logistics are a nightmare. The week of Easter, however, was open for both of us so I said: “Pick a country!” We decided on Greece and off we went. But getting there was a bloddy nightmare. To save on my ticket, I bravely took an economy class seat on Emirates as recommended by my travel agent. Ron excitedly told me to go for it – Emirates had won best economy class and some award. However I forgot that the hub was in Dubai and the majority of the OFWs (overseas Filipino workers) were stationed there. The duty-free shop was overrun with Filipino workers selling cell phones and perfume. Meanwhile, I wanted to slash my wrist at the thought of being trapped in a plane with all of them. Of course, everyone in economy class was yelled at for having overweight hand-carries. Mine was 17kg (ssshhhh!). That was all my makeup and accessories I would never risk losing if my luggage ended in the middle of the Sahara desert.
While I was on the plane (where the seats were so small I had bruises on my legs), my only consolation was the entertainment on the small flat screen in front of me. But it was busted, so I heaved a sigh, popped my sleeping pills and dozed off to the sounds of gum chewing and endless yelling of “HOY! Kumusta ka na? At taga sann ka? Domestic helper ka rin ba?” Translation: “Hey there? Where are you from? Are you a domestic helper as well?” I though I had died and God had sent me to my very own private hell.