I am tired. I can feel sleep pushing against my eyelids. Not to be outdone, my muscles scream for attention like a baby that demands milk. My bones creak like rickety stairs. I am feeling my length of stay in this world.

But this is a different kind of tiredness. This is happy tired. This is the exhaustive feeling one gets after performing a really awesome task. This is not the same tired I once felt before. Back then, my fatigue was like a claw that gripped my soul, that more often than not led to temporary bouts of depression.

I woke up this morning with my chest muscles (I didn’t know I had any) screaming and inflamed. Just moving about was painful. Every motion reminded me that it’s foolish to indulge in strenuous activities when you have not prepped your body to handle such stress(actually it’s more like your body can no longer handle such stress).

I don’t know if it was hubris or a blatant rebellion against father time that made me do what I did yesterday. For the first time in my life I tried kneeboarding. I know, it’s not cool to do kneeboarding when folks around you were skimming the lake in their awesome wakeboards doing 360 back-flips and spraying water all over you while you scrunch in your kneeboard in the middle of the lake holding on to a merciless rope that pulls you at breakneck speed. It was terrifying! It was exhilarating!

My muscles were shouting bloody murder but I didn’t let go, not until I found myself underwater. Instead of fearing for my safety however, everytime I get my head out of the water, I was laughing. It was great to be alive.

I was at CamSur Watersports Complex yesterday, and I’m proud to say I am a kneeboarder. Ok scratch that, I am a 3/4 kneeboarder. Because that’s only how far I came close to finishing a lap there even after two tries. Oh well, there’s always next time. Unless my body tells me otherwise.

The weather couldn’t be more inclement, and its timing sucks.  But come hell or high water, me and some folks would be hauling our behinds for some much needed R&R to the country’s last frontier– if you can believe that press release the guys from WOW! Philippines bombard wannabe tourists.  I am inclined to believe that it is despite my utter disgust for these bureaucrats who promote these tourist spots and yet leave the locals to fend for themselves or if they do a little something to help they’re not gonna let anyone forget about their contribution.  And how could anyone fail to notice, what with their names plastered all over whatever ‘improvement’ they’ve done to a place.

But now’s not the time to be thinking about nasty things, I’m sure in the grand scheme of things these folks would have a very special place in that not so very touristy spot in the great beyond.  One that smells of sulphur and brimstone.

This trip has burned enough holes in my pocket willingly and unwillingly.  I wouldn’t elaborate on the involuntary part as it would be a sob story that you can’t sell to the most diehard of Judy Ann Santos fans.  What’s done is done and I could just imagine that those bills fell out and some crocodile gobbled it up.  Still I’m glad that this is happening.  The last time I was there, I was confined to the scanty pleasures of Puerto Princesa.  Not that you would call the natural wonder of the underground river as flimsy but for a guy with serious claustrophobic tendencies, it’s a bloody deathtrap.  All the time I was inside that cave, I couldn’t stop thinking that it would indeed be a watery grave had we not come out of it sooner.  I couldn’t breath in there!  That’s why I couldn’t share my companions’ excitement about the prospect of seeing this much ballyhooed natural wonder.  I am not going back into that hell hole, thank you very much.

The thought about island hopping in the El Nido area however makes me dizzy from excitement.  I have already spent precious company hours searching each mentioned mini-island we will be visiting and by gosh they look perfect! I’ll be bringing my camera and shoot the hell out of those spots.

Oh well, this has gone long enough and I’m bloody late.

Almost but not quite.

I really believed I could stay away from the computer throughout my holiday but I was given too many opportunities to be in front of one. Anyway, since I’m already here (while the SO rearranges her store here in Lim Ket Kai), I might as well write a few sentences about my vacation so far. I will be writing the details at a later date.

I started the weekend in Anawangin. It’s an island somewhere in Zambales. So far, it placed second in my best-visited-beaches-so-far list. The first will always be the Pink Lagoon in Surigao.  I’m not even sure if I can still go back to that place as my friends and I can no longer agree on the exact name or location.  Perhaps it’s one of those enchantment things.  I just hope that that place is not lost to me forever.

The joy of Anawangin is its back river.  It has a river just a few steps from the beach. And there are woods there too.  A colleague even commented that the place sort of resembled Lake Tahoe.  I wouldn’t know though.  I’ve never been there.  Because the place is not yet developed, it makes for a very good camping spot.

After Anawangin, I flew to CDO to participate in an all-expense-paid vacation involving white water rafting and a 3 day stay in Caminguin. I didn’t care much for Camiguin as I’ve been there a few times already. It was the rafting I was most interested in.  I must admit to raising a skeptical eyebrow everytime I read all the praises about this different kind of adventure from folks who’ve been there.  What’s so special about a river, a few rapids, some raft?  I’ve been burned by clickthecity’s review on Putipot Island before that I’ve been doubly wary about other people’s reviews.

But I was pleasantly mistaken.

White Water Rafting In CDO is indeed an adventure worth taking. There– I’ve already joined the bandwagon. The clincher really was the number of HOURS I spent aboard the inflatable raft.  Yes, you read that right. You will be aboard the raft for at least two hours and man, you get to really appreciate the CDO river.  It is absolutely amazing. I didn’t realize that we have a river like that in the Philippines and I’ve seen my share of rivers.   I can’t begin to express the exhilaration I felt surrounded by all those cliffs and the vegetation and the still waters.

If there’s one adventure that you must do this summer, do this one. I guarantee that you would have one hell of a great time.

I didn’t want to up this morning. The thought that I’ll be carrying with me the memory of Roger’s loss is almost too hard to bear. But then again I am in Cebu. I cannot have a bad day while I am here. This is like a parallel universe where only good thoughts and good vibes exist. And if Roger can bear the loss, then certainly I can too.

It has been close to two years since I last set foot on this island. My last visit lasted only a couple of days, precipitated by a college reunion that I wish I did not attend. This time, the reason for the visit is the wedding of a good friend, one who considers himself as God’s gift to women, and looking at the face of her blushing bride, at least he’s got one believer there. The bastard has allowed himself to be tied down. Must be love. Heh.

I am somehow filled with regret thinking that I left this place for the glitz and glamour of Metro Manila. True, the financial reward is somewhat satisfying, still one cannot help but wonder how things would have been had I not allowed myself to be blinded by the bright city lights. But that’s just the way it is, if all the good things that Manila offer can be found here, then everybody would want to live in Cebu.

Still, I am saddened that some of those things that I looked forward to while planning this trip can no longer be found, Musichaus for example. I was imagining myself diving face first into it’s dusty bookshelves and finding those books priced at only P5, even the Ding Qua Qua along Mango Avenue has vanished. My friends say that it has been relocated to some other place and I can only sigh in nostalgic sadness.

The loss of certain monuments to my ordinary past, and the rising of several structures that beckon me to explore them only serve as testaments to my lifelong love affair with this city, with Cebu, my own private Cebu.