Virgin Paradise
note: this travel essay was written in order to analyze the style of Ms. Caroline Hau, editor of an online publication in Singapore (im not really sure)... believe me.. i really tried.. forgive me if it sucked..
It was in the summer of 1999 that I first visited the place. Despite its dreary outer shell, Dapa possessed a rare treasure comparable only to that of Boracay, the Bahamas and Fiji. It was one of the islands bestowed with magnificent yet undefiled shorelines. The thick flora (mostly coconut trees and grasses) that surrounded its beaches was a testimony that human activities have yet invaded the place.
It took us only about fifteen minutes to reach the beach. The moment we arrived I immediately sat on the sand to feel the gentle breeze that was blowing from the sea. The place was perfect for daydreaming. The only sounds distinguishable were the laughter of my cousins and the twittering of the birds. Everything else was calm.
I took a walk around and noticed that the white sand I was stepping on was free from any form of impurities unlike the other beach resorts I had been to. After a while, I finally decided to take a bath.
Even if it was a hot summer morning, the coolness of the cornflower blue water still made me shiver. While swimming, I also noticed something different about the seafloor. There wasn’t a single living thing living in there. There was only sand, pure white sand. One of the residents told me that the part of the sea we were in really did not have any sea creature in it for reasons nobody was able to explain yet. She said those sea creatures could only be found in the sea floor of the island across. Nevertheless, it made our swimming more enjoyable. We would never have to wear slippers because there wasn’t any sea urchin or pointed shell that would cut our skin.
The deepness of the water also varied from place to place. One part was deeper than the other. The seafloor was not flat. In fact once viewed from above, it looked like half of the rice terraces submerged in water. The only difference was it was white.
The day went faster than I expected. We didn’t notice that the sky was slowly turning from blue to fiery orange signaling that we finally had to leave.
I sat on the backseat of the car. My dad turned on the engine and we started moving away. As the postcard view slowly disappeared from my sight, I wondered if it would still be the same when I come back.
Dapa was exactly how I imagined a rural community would look like. The roads were unpaved and dusty. Nipa houses of the same sizes and designs, slightly concealed behind the infinite line of coconut trees that stretched along the road dominated the place. Industrialization and technology has not contaminated the municipality. There were hardly any concrete infrastructures around. The dust that the breeze carried was brownish white lighter than those that comes out of an exhaust pipe. In the morning even if the sun was already high, only the clucking of the hens, the laughter of children playing and the soft humming of the AM radio could be heard.
It was in the summer of 1999 that I first visited the place. Despite its dreary outer shell, Dapa possessed a rare treasure comparable only to that of Boracay, the Bahamas and Fiji. It was one of the islands bestowed with magnificent yet undefiled shorelines. The thick flora (mostly coconut trees and grasses) that surrounded its beaches was a testimony that human activities have yet invaded the place.
It took us only about fifteen minutes to reach the beach. The moment we arrived I immediately sat on the sand to feel the gentle breeze that was blowing from the sea. The place was perfect for daydreaming. The only sounds distinguishable were the laughter of my cousins and the twittering of the birds. Everything else was calm.
I took a walk around and noticed that the white sand I was stepping on was free from any form of impurities unlike the other beach resorts I had been to. After a while, I finally decided to take a bath.
Even if it was a hot summer morning, the coolness of the cornflower blue water still made me shiver. While swimming, I also noticed something different about the seafloor. There wasn’t a single living thing living in there. There was only sand, pure white sand. One of the residents told me that the part of the sea we were in really did not have any sea creature in it for reasons nobody was able to explain yet. She said those sea creatures could only be found in the sea floor of the island across. Nevertheless, it made our swimming more enjoyable. We would never have to wear slippers because there wasn’t any sea urchin or pointed shell that would cut our skin.
The deepness of the water also varied from place to place. One part was deeper than the other. The seafloor was not flat. In fact once viewed from above, it looked like half of the rice terraces submerged in water. The only difference was it was white.
The day went faster than I expected. We didn’t notice that the sky was slowly turning from blue to fiery orange signaling that we finally had to leave.
I sat on the backseat of the car. My dad turned on the engine and we started moving away. As the postcard view slowly disappeared from my sight, I wondered if it would still be the same when I come back.
posted by Jais @ 2:51 AM
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