Palawan Day One (Part Two)

The Puerta Princessa Airport is small and welcoming. Maybe I remember it that way because I was so happy to exit from a small airplane out into a less crowded city than those we had visited prior to landing. Saigon, Phnom Penh, Hanoi and Bangkok were incredible, but dizzying itineraries and overpopulated streets had left us exhausted. We were looking forward to reuniting with our friends Tor and Becky and finishing out our final week of vacation the way I've always enjoyed it most- with a surplus of warm sun and cold beer, good food and better books, ocean swimming and a little snorkeling.

Of course, we couldn't just jump straight in to all that relaxation. First order of business was a much needed nap. Our perilous red eye flight from Bangkok to Manila and then Manila to our present location had left us depleted of sleep, cranky and confused. How could the sun shine so brightly? What time is it? It must be morning because the air is too cool to match the blue still and cloudless skyscape.

To remain awake throughout the course of an overnight flight is to experience time travel. I sympathize for the long haul truck driver, the graveyard worker who greets the colors of dawn with shame, for how can you appreciate the glory of a new day now that the mystery of its turning has been laid bare. Like sitting beside the bed of a dying loved one until she passes, only to realize you had the wrong room number. We walked down the stairs wheeled against the side of the plane and walked into the airport, and although we had experienced an additional seven or eight hours of life, something was lost.

We slowly began to reclaim our bearings and accept the morning. Everything we saw upon arrival hinted at the slower pace we had so hoped to cherish. The lone baggage claim belt, beat up and shin-high, pathetically conveyed luggage forward, and as it did the sight of our familiar packs helped restore normalcy. The young girl assigned with transporting us to the Hibiscus was dressed casually in shorts and flip flops. She drove us a short distance over unshouldered roads shared occasionally with motorscooters converted into covered carriages. Sort of a Beverly Hillbilly's version of a tuk-tuk.

The Hibiscus Garden Inn is an Eden of relaxation. Sleepy wood carvings litter the lush green courtyard giving way to expertly constructed oversized hammocks which line the walkway connecting guest quarters. Inside we were greeted by our first soft mattress in Asia. A glorious California king with enough plush pillows to construct a fort of equal size. To cap it all of, the cable package (for I never neglect the television, no matter how tired) included a channel devoted solely to my cherished National Basketball Association. It was as it the combination of comfort and entertainment ordered me to stay in and rest.

It was at this time that Tor came banging on the door.

"Get your trunks on, we're going out on a cruise. Van comes in ten minutes."

With this simple instruction, we abandoned our plan of recovery and set forth. Tor's charisma and overall zeal for adventure trumped our slothful ways. We soon were introduced to Tor and Becky's friends Ben and Alicia who had flown in from Oregon the night before. Although their flight was infinitely more draining than ours, they were fired up for day one in The Philippines. Even Alicia, who early on announced that she is often overcome with motion sickness, endured the bumpy van ride and upcoming rocky boat cruise without a hint of trepidation.

At the Honda Bay loading dock, we searched for cruise supplies. There was a decent sized outdoor market, but unlike most markets we frequented during our Southeast Asia vacation, no one beckoned us to take up any goods for sale. Tor searched frantically for snorkeling gear to rent. The shop was out of equipment so we begrudgingly purchased cheap goggles as an alternative. I bought some bread that was touted as the best fish food knowing full well I couldn't help but snack on it myself later.

We shakily boarded the boat by walking up an overused, thin wooden plank. It was immediately evident that someone, perhaps after too many beverages, was going to trip and fall up or off of the shoddily constructed ladder at some point during the excursion. In addition to we three married couples from Oregon, we were joined by a young Spanish couple who happily served as our photographers, and laughed at jokes they wouldn't have found funny, even if they could understand them.

The weather on that first day was the best it would be during our week and two days in Palawan. Blue sky and ocean to match, wispy clouds as white as a blank Word document. We looked out over green mountain islands and decided the landscape rivaled any we had seen to date in terms of beauty. One of the islands we visited was aptly dubbed "Starfish Island," and after a successful descent from the rickety ladder, I reached into the shallow water and held a namesake creature. After posing with it, I was told to put it down, as it shouldn't be out of the water for longer than a few seconds.

Posing with a starfish on Starfish Island, fish bread in hand.

There was a hut to buy food and drinks on the island. I bought my first beer from The Philippines, a Red Horse, which at 7.5 percent alcohol turned my mindset from sleepy to happily hazy. Ben ordered an absurdly large and delicious coconut water and downed it before we made our way out into the ocean with our goggles. We realized instantly that the bread was a good idea as fish clamored around us without a hint of modesty.

Later, we boated out to a swimming spot near a strategically constructed floating store. A narrow floating pathway led to a covered jumping off point. The girls stayed behind, shivering in the newly formed breeze, while we boys attempted to maintain vision below the sea. The push and the pull of the waves, combined with our semi-intoxicated state hampered our ability to observe the fish, and so we gave up and dog paddled back to the platform. If ever there was a time to fall overboard, it was here walking back over the swaying dock pathway and up the now soaked boat ladder. Amazingly, we all made it. And now it was time to circle back home and experience a more pleasant version of that back and forth rocking, in the safety and comfort of a hammock. Where I could finally get the rest I craved. A second start to a perfect vacation.