My beach 

"I still believe in paradise. At least now I know it's not some place that you look for. 'Cause it's not where you go. It's how you feel for a moment in your life. And if you find that moment, it will last forever." 

Queridos amigos,

That's an aphorism from the movie "The Beach." Saw it rather belatedly and it brought back enough beach memories to write this. Released in 2000 and, coming
after the heels of "Titanic," everybody was mad about Di Caprio. As you know, I tend to flee from overhyped movies (and books too). The story is about the
search for paradise -- the perfect beach -- by a young American backpacker in looking for excitement in Thailand. 

We did find our own ideal beach in our time and more on our own terms, didn't we? Not marijuana-and-white-sand scenes but the best tropical island sights one will ever witness in this dang planet. Shrieking with delight in Coron. Ripped off in Batangas. Boracay, soaking in warm currents on a rainy dusk, big bats flapping wings overhead. Sabang in Puerto Princesa. Even Sabang in Puerto Galera. Bems, I'm glad we did that mini-adventure ages ago walking over that bluff between the La Lagunas in Puerto Galera. God, the first time I rode the ferry to Puerto Galera, I thought how utterly lucky are the schoolchildren who go to that shack of schoolhouse by the shore.  How about those firefly nights in Tamaraw in the 80s? Off Jakarta, Pia and I cruised the Pulau Seribu and got frightened by komodo dragons while playing tourist in the beach. In the waters between Panglao and Pamilacan (?) islands, I have never seen a more profound shade of blue-aquamarine. I was with Marni and James on a teeny-weeny boat, the deep sea was calm. If a freak wave did come by, we could capsize, and Marni voiced those apprehensions. Strangely, I just closed my eyes in Buddha-like imitation and thought it was a scene to die for anyway. 

Can one name a better place to kick the bucket? How can I forget the plankton glowing through the surface of the water as we made our way home to Coron
from the hot springs at night? This must have something to do with being born in the right geographical spot. Who-weee, Praise God almighty. 

Having found my beach many times over in the '90s and therefore well-stocked up with memories that will last a lifetime, it is only proper that I send a note of
appreciation to you all who made the trip possible. The wags say that you can never go back to the same place twice. And as the clock ticks and my waistline
expands, that sort of reality sinks in each day. I don't think any of you now can get away for a week without an anxiety attack. Can you ride again on that very slow
boat to Coron on a lark? I think not. So this is all about saying goodbye to all that, a little acknowledgement of the move to midlife, however reluctant. Rather than
let the transition quitely lapse, I will give the un-reclaimable past a toast and the unexpected a nice welcome peck on the cheek. 

Merry Christmas! 

Ferdi 

Christmas 2002

P.S. 

I can never approximate Di Caprio's look but Di Caprio can try to look like moi. See photo below of Leo loaded with striped tiangge shopping bags.