Things I am not doing: I am not calling home for messages. I am not reading texts or emails on my phone. I am not scrolling for news. My phone, in fact, is in my bedside drawer at the hotel. The hardest part for me: not doing Wordle.

Going for walks is an allowable do nothing activity so strolling – as distinguished from scrolling….– around the cute beach-side town of Rehoboth, Delaware a couple of hours east of Washington, DC is allowed. Shopping, not so much. Reading t-shirts in a shop, okay. “If a man says he will fix it, he will. There’s no need to remind him every six months.” Now that’s worth an appreciative look. “I’m going to go stand outside, so if anyone asks, tell them I’m outstanding.” “Exercise? I thought you said extra fries.” That could be a Thrasher’s reference but more on that later…..

Maybe I’d better explain. I travel a lot. It’s my work and most trips are filled with story-gathering activities round-the-clock. Have to do all the must-sees and track down those unknowns off the beaten track. Lots of planning, organizing, researching – even the restaurants have to be studied. So the idea of a do-nothing vacation had a lot of appeal. Relaxing. Stress-free. Laid-back. I just didn’t know how much work it was going to be.

Restaurants are tricky. Rather than seeking out the umbrella-clad cocktail du jour, I was much happier hanging out at a local bar mid-day with my go-to Fireball over light ice. I’m an exercise fiend at home but here, raising a glass from the top of Whisky Jack’s bar – could any name be more perfect for what I was seeking out? – was about as much exertion as I could muster. The resultant smile on my face almost pushed me over the top. I think I was getting the hang of this do-nothing concept.

Rather than research the de rigueur restaurants of Rehoboth, I opted instead to stop for ice cream and the area’s famous Thrasher’s French Fries. Reading the weird ice cream flavors in the street-front parlor that boasts 100 different flavors was almost as much fun as reading t-shirts: “I Don’t Give a Fork,” “May the 4th be With You,” and “Better than Sex.” Reading a hundred ice cream flavors is time-consuming. How fortunate there was nothing I actually needed to DO.

Sitting on a boardwalk bench with my fries – somehow unlike any other (Thrasher’s refuse to provide ketchup because, I assume, that would tarnish the original flavor) – and people watching. Does that count as an activity? So many different humans going in so many different directions, all so intent on their own drummers – it was exhausting to watch. I was just happy to stay exactly where I was, watching the seagulls, busily squawking and hurtling toward a dropped French fry. Seagulls are actually more exhausting. I felt even more of a need to just unwind.

Truth be told, at one beach bar it was so bright and noisy I found it very hard to chill out the way I’d envisioned. Next time – dark, quiet and low key. So first night out, big mistake.

Feeding – so to speak – my preference for down-and-dirty restaurants as opposed to white-tablecloth, the comfortable and casual Gogg’s perfectly matched my mind-numbing mood on night out number two.

Alright so there was a menu with 100 rums, rivaling the 100 ice cream flavors. Could get testy. Resisting the threat of stressful decision-making angst, I simply opted for my favorites, thus enjoying the novelty of such variety while avoiding indulging in executive-level anxiety. A win-win. I didn’t have to do anything but eat and drink.

But, of course, any further activity-involved nightlife did not qualify. Back to my do-nothing balcony. Listening to waves never disappoints.

So yes, there are arcades in Rehoboth I didn’t go to. I didn’t bike-ride on the Boardwalk. I avoided mini-golf. Although I did at times find myself lusting after all the emails I wasn’t reading. Again, hard work to do nothing.

The next day, on the beach again, I didn’t for one minute miss playing frisbee while relaxing on my chaise lounge.The one exception to my inactivity, however, was to indulge in one of my most fun undertakings: diving into waves! I allowed myself that delightful diversion before returning to a renewed level of slothness. And maybe one more relaxing drink at Whisky Jack’s.

So is this all much ado about nothing? You bet!

The post A Do-Nothing Vacation Takes Work appeared first on Traveling Archive.

This installment of Three Things is courtesy of Shelley Kekuna, Executive Director of the Kaanapali Beach Resort Association.

1. Question: What are some of the “things” or activities that people at Ka’anapali or Ka’anapali Resort do for fun?

Answer:

Ka’anapali is a diverse vacation destination that can appeal to any kind of traveler when it comes to activities. Not only have we been rated as a top beach in the world, which lends itself to multiple water activities, but the mountains behind us are also rich with things to do.

The beach is generous with sand, snorkeling opportunities, paddling canoe, stand up paddle, surfing, embarking and disembarking of luxury catamarans for snorkeling, whale watching (within season), dinner cruising or a cocktail sunset cruise. When the Humpback Whales are not visiting (May 15 – December 15), We have parasailing, jet skiing and small craft fishing. All of the activities mentioned can be accessed from the shoreline.

Ka’anapali is located at the foot of the West Maui Mountains, which has ziplining, quad riding and lots of fantastic hiking. A helicopter ride over the West Maui Mountains reveals the intricate network of natural fresh water flow that is captured at the top of the mountains, considered one of the second wettest places in the Hawaiian Islands.

Culture is also a big component of the Ka’anapali Beach Resort. Once a place rich in Hawaiian history, many properties offer cultural classes and ways to learn of this history over and above a simple hula lesson.

2. Question: What’s one thing the public probably does NOT know about Ka’anapali?

It’s difficult to name just one thing when it comes to Ka’anapali’s mystery and secrets so I will list them below:

A. Ka’anapali Beach Resort is the original master planned resort in the Hawaiian Islands. After it was developed, it became the benchmark for all other self contained resort destinations.

B. Ka’anapali is rich in history because Historic Lahaina (1 mile away) was once the original capital of the Hawaiian Kingdom, prior to well-known Honolulu on the island of Oahu. Because of Ka’anapali’s location, there are significant pieces of history and legends that center around this special location on Maui.

C. Ka’anapali Coffee, grown in this region on the side of the West Maui Mountains is the largest commercial coffee production in the United States and is shipped all over the world.

3. Question: What has Ka’anapali contributed to the world?

Regional Hawaiian Cuisine! While not the only birthplace in the Islands, HRC is available at all of our F&B outlets, expensive or otherwise. We continue to welcome global visitors and make them aware of the beauty of the culture through the amazing cuisine, which has change the way the world prepares food, by mixing traditional and inclusive combinations of flavors from a variety of cultural influences.

Ka’anapali has taught the world that it is possible to mix culture, recreation and community in a world class setting. Ka’anapali, Maui is an exotic location with a unique eco system and rich culture that you can experience without leaving the US.

The post Three Things About Ka’anapali appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Procrasti-Nation

We went to the beach last Sunday (you can read about it here in TravelingBoy.com). You’d think that I would take in that ocean air more often considering the Pacific Ocean is less than 20 miles away from me; but no. I always think I would do it next week and next week never comes. Similarly, I regret I didn’t visit the Smithsonian Museums more often when I lived near Washington, DC. Yup! I admit it. I’m part of the Procrasti-Nation. If you’re honest, you’re part of it too.

We Southern Californians procrastinate going to nearby places which global tourists visit in droves. And we return the favor and visit their touristy spots which they (the locals) rarely visit. Explain that to a visiting alien from space.

I wondered if there’s a term for this. Couldn’t think of any and so I asked AI to write a song about this. I was impressed. So let’s all rise and sing our AI-inspired Procrasti-National Anthem:

(Verse 1)
Welcome to the land of procrasti-nation,
Where tasks disappear without hesitation.
I’ll get to it later, I swear I will,
But for now, let’s chill and just Netflix and chill.

(Chorus)
Pro-cras-ti-nation, the art of delay,
In this realm, productivity fades away.
With every excuse, I justify my hesitation,
Lost in the twisted path of procrasti-nation.

(Bridge)
One more cat video, one more quick scroll,
Oh look, an email, I’ll just read it all.
Time slips away, how quickly it goes,
In procrasti-nation, even minutes are foes.

(Chorus)
Pro-cras-ti-nation, the procrastinator’s dream,
Avoiding work has become my daily regime.
The to-do list grows, but motivation is weak,
In the vast land of procrasti-nation, I seek refuge and peace.

(Outro)
Oh procrasti-nation, my constant companion,
I’ll conquer you someday, with fierce determination.
But for now, let me bask in your sweet embrace,
As I procrastinate, leaving tasks in disgrace.

(Yes, Chat GPT AI actually wrote that song)

But more than procrastinating on work and chores, I think the things I procrastinate and feel guilty about the most are:

• Spiritual health: Not meditating on scripture as much as I should.
• Physical health: Not exercising. Not eating healthy.
• Other Stuff: Not learning more computer skills to catch up. Not painting or creating art as much as I could. Not learning to play the piano. Not reading more. Not converting my VHS family tapes into digital format.

During my Dad’s last days here on earth I wish I had told him I loved him more. I didn’t expect him to lose his cognitive abilities so quickly. So I’ll add one more item to my list:

• Not saying “I love you” more often.

How about you? Name 3 things you know you ought to do more often. How about it? Let’s call it our mid-year resolution! Let’s start now … okay, let’s start tomorrow … Aw c’mon! … really?!

JOKE OF THE WEEK

Thanks to Warren of Orange County, CA

Video of the Week

Have you ever wondered how the Chinese type on a keyboard? I have wondered for years. This video is not a joke. It’s pretty long. But I found it very interesting.

Parting Shots

Thanks to Tom of Pasadena. CA

Thanks to Art of Sierra Madre. CA

I found these

The Traveling Boy

My good friend (and jokester) Terry and I came up with these.

The post Wookie Jar appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Iligan City is one of the 10 largest cities in the Philippines. Its history goes back to the Pre-Spanish colonial era. With 300 years under Spain, it is no wonder that the majority of the population is Roman Catholic.

Because of its central location, the city was invaded by the Japanese forces in 1942. I remember my grandmother’s story about the war. My great grandfather had all the women in the family gathered in the living room and he had drawn out his bolo (a hacking sword). The Japanese had a reputation of torture and rape and my great grandfather was ready to slaughter his own children first rather than give them up to the Japanese. Fortunately, the house was bypassed and they all lived to face another day.

There was another story of the town folk who gathered inside the church praying because the Japanese were going to bomb the city. They heard the planes roaring above them but nothing happened. No bombs were dropped. Years later one of the Japanese pilots remembered that day. He said their maps indicated they were above the city but they could not see any buildings. Was it a miracle? What do you think?

Iligan of my youth

Iligan is known for many things but for me, this is the home of my ancestors. My family would escape the metropolitan city of Greater Manila (where we lived in my youth) and spend our summer vacations here. I remember taking two day journeys by boat from Manila in the north and Iligan in the south. Half of the boat was cargo and the other half were passengers. We would rent a sardine cabin and, if not available, we would sleep barrack-style in cots on the second deck and watch the waves and the flying fishes and dolphins swim alongside. Usually we would get in the boat by mid-afternoon but the cargo would take forever to load and in the midst of the clamor of the stevedores/longshoremen and the noisy cranes, we would fall asleep. In the morning we would wake up to the deafening hum of the ship’s diesel engine in the middle of the Sibuyan Sea.

In my grandmother’s town, I remember swimming with the colorful marine life that danced in the crystal clear water and playing with the hermit crabs in the pristine black sandy beaches. Population was still sparse and gravel pathways to the different houses were clean and orderly — most probably patterned after the orderly American bases. Usually we would walk around the neighborhood wearing our rubber sandals but sometimes we would get a lift from the carabao (water buffalo) drawn sleds. Those days are gone. Alas, man had set in. There are other parts of the Philippines where nature is relatively untainted by modernity but not here in Iligan.

Getting there

Nowadays, it is much easier to travel by air. You have a choice of 2 airlines: Philippine Airlines and Cebu Pacific. I prefer Cebu Pacific. The fare from the Manila domestic airport to the Laguindingan Airport (the closest airport to Iligan) is about $50 for a 1.5 hour trip. Only one baggage (max. 44-60 lbs.) and one carry-on are allowed — otherwise you pay extra. Check the Cebu Pacific Airlines website for more details.

Face masks were encouraged but not mandatory. Delays are common and usually pile up at the end of the day. Often it is due to bad weather. The turbulence isn’t too bad up in the air but the pilot circles around in a holding pattern until he sees an opening in the clouds making it safe to land.

From the airport it’s a long two hour drive to Iligan City if you travel by private vehicle. Four hours if you travel by bus. And if you do travel by bus, you need to have your ID and Covid health card ready or you can’t board the bus.

It is highly urbanized. In fact, there are 181 schools and 5 hospitals. Most of the year, there are rain drizzles. It can be muggy and hot in the morning and wet with heavy rainfall and lightning in the afternoon. The sun is up by six am and sunset comes at 7pm. Traveling through the countryside, I couldn’t help but notice so many shirtless men sitting outside their homes watching traffic whiz past while the women were sweeping the dust away and doing other housework. I guess the home is an Iligano male’s castle.

The language

Cebuano is the language of Southern Philippines and is the common talk of the Iliganos. Tagalog (the national language of the Philippines) and English are used to teach in some of the classrooms. To my surprise, a few of the local middle class even prefer conversing in English than Tagalog. They probably watch too many Hollywood movies. Many Filipinos have a colonial mentality. In other words, they are starry eyed by everything American — movies, the NBA (basketball is the favorite sport of the masses … tennis and golf for the super elite) and music. In fact, if you have western features, you can be a movie star … no talent required.

I had some of the local kids introduce themselves and then sing a song in Tagalog. I think the song is about unrequited love.

The People

Most Iliganos are fun-loving brown skinned because of their exposure to the sun. They have a mix of Malay and Chinese features although some mestizos (children of mixed marriages) can be spotted (mostly from the Spanish lineage). Most are slender and muscular but there are also those who are heavy set (due to large consumption of rice). The average height I would say is 5 feet and two inches.

Catholics comprise most of the population in Iligan but there has been an influx of Muslim refugees who escaped the war in nearby Marawi City on May, 2017 between the government forces and the local branch of ISIS. You can tell who the Muslims are by the veil coverings on their heads.

The Muslims are called Moros and they are a proud race. They have a history of war in their blood — you don’t want to mess with them because they are known to seek revenge. For the most part, both religions get along well. Many of the imported goods are sold by the Moros who import from nearby Borneo of Malaysia in the south whose population is predominantly Muslim. They are very enterprising.

Food glorious food

Almost everywhere you turn there is a carinderia (a small canteen). You find them in the mall in fast food chains like Jollibee, Inasal and Chow King that serve hamburgers, fried chicken and noodles. I was surprised not to see any McDonalds franchise … I think the local competition with their local flavors drove them out of town. You can also find food along the major and minor streets. Rice is more common than bread. Local bread doesn’t taste as good as US bread. I think it has something to do with the flour and the water.

Speaking of water. DO NOT drink tap water. Any water you put in your mouth should be bottled water. That includes water to brush your teeth and gargle. Tap water is for washing your hands and taking a bath. Water is plentiful since Iligan is near the beach and is near several water falls. Water mostly come from deep wells. I think each establishment and home pump their own water. Many poorer communities pump water by hand.

The pace of life can be very slow. As long as you have a roof over your head you can live off the fat of the land and sea. Iligan Bay is rich with creatures of the salty sea. If you’re into sashimi, you’ll love it here. A regular sized Tuna of about 2 feet length costs a mere $7 a kilo. (BTW, the Philippine uses the metric system in most instances). Usually, you can select the part of the fish you want for the same price. The locals don’t appreciate this Japanese delicacy because they don’t understand the fascination for wasabi. Iliganos don’t really like spicy hot food. The favorite fish preparation of the locals is “daing” (pronounced “Da – Eeng”) which is essentially fried salted dried fish dipped in cane vinegar. Chicken is mass produced and inexpensive. Tell the butcher how you intend to prepare the meat and they will gladly slice it to your liking. Fresh milk is very rare. Not too many cows here.

A variety of tropical vegetable make interesting soup concoctions. They have eggplant, string beans, Chinese spinach, petchay (a local bok choy), squash, sweet potato and tomato. Champagne mango is cheap here at $4 a kilo. Spices like garlic, ginger, onion, pepper, fish sauce, soy sauce and calamansi are common. Coconut is also plentiful and they turn it into vinegar, wine, milk, ice cream, toppings for bibinka (a local steamed pastry) and candy. My favorite is simply partially frozen fresh pure coconut juice.

Iligan boasts of its own unique flavorful concoctions such as Pinakurat (a unique vinegar with lots of special spices), Piyaya de Iligan (some sort of pancake filled with ube, chocolate, peanuts, durian, cheese and other different flavors). Palapa (an asian cuisine made of onions, shutts and hot spices).

There are some fruits that look alike outside but are completely different like jackfruit and durian. Another set of similar fruits are makopa, marang and tambis that come in shades of pink, white to green. There are star apples and star fruit (balimbing). Santol and mangosteen are strange fruits whose inner skin remind me of pears but whose seeds (the sweet part) look like cotton balls. There are cherry-looking fruits that are called aratilis. Atis is a fruit that looks like a soft dark green grenade … open it up and you see several black seeds covered with white sweet flesh.

Energy

Most kitchens (residential and commercial) use gas tanks. Transporting full tanks and exchanging empty tanks is an age old practice. There are no cooking gas lines here like they have in the U.S.

Electricity is constant since one of the main sources of electricity comes from the Maria Christina Falls. Especially during the rainy season, this powerful waterfall supplies hydroelectricity to other parts of the country. The only reason why there might be an occasional shutdown would be due to supply preference to industrial factories.

Wish I could say the same about the internet. The service is sporadic and, even if you had fiber optics installed, the most you can get is 75 MB … usually it hovers around half of that. Blame it on the monopoly of PLDT (the Philippine Long Distance Company) for land lines and internet feeds. It costs $26 per month. With cell phones, there are several satellite providers to choose from that allow you to use your cell phone on the go – Globe, Smart, TM and Dito. A few years ago, carriers used to sell data- minutes but with so many competing players it has been simplified to $2 a week for unlimited usage. To be honest, I still don’t know how to call a local number. There are area codes, international codes and local numbers that you need to juggle around to get the working combination. I gave up! I let the locals dial the number for me but even they don’t get it right.

Tourist Attractions

Iligan boasts of 23 waterfalls, 8 springs and 15 caves. Iligan is known as the City of Majestic Waterfalls. Some of them are the Maria Christina Falls, Tinago Falls, Poldo Falls, Dodiongan Falls, Limunsudan Falls, Mimbalot Falls, Kalubihon Falls, Dalipga Falls, Kamadahan Falls, Hindang Falls, Abaga Falls and many more. It has also has a lot of caves. If you want to go to any of these, you better put on your hiking boots.

Driving

It’s fascinating to watch how people drive. It’s a thrill of amusement park proportion. Most of the roads have at least 2 lanes on each side. Like America, the driving wheel is on the left side and traffic flows from the right side. But unlike the US, the inside lane is not the overtaking side. It is the outer lane at the edge of the road where you overtake. Why? Because the outside lane is where uncertainty lies. Driving on the left side and a car length away from the car in front, you can’t see what’s on the outside lane — if a vehicle is stalled there or a shanty is built there or the road suddenly ends. Frustratingly, slow moving vehicles like tricycles or scooters or heavy trucks refuse to drive on the outer lane because it would be harder for them to return to the fast lane if the road is blocked. I think there’s also this feeling of superiority … as if they’re saying “nya! nya! I may be slow but I’m still in front of you!”

People drive defensively and communicate with their horns. Two quick horns warn the other driver that you are coming through. One quick horn says “I heard you.” One long horn is the internationally accepted shout to the other driver: “Bastard, get off the road!”

Iligan is a simple, typical Philippine city full of warm, friendly laid back English-speaking Filipinos. The standard of living is very affordable. It’s a relatively poor community judging from Western standards. It’s not the cleanest city for sure. Its economic potential has not yet peaked. Natural resources and a trained labor force are waiting for opportunities. As in my youth, it’s still a great place to escape from the stress of life.

The post Iligan City, Philippines: The Easy Life appeared first on Traveling Archive.

Sunset is an airy, compact oasis in the middle of a jungle, wood-filled and woodsy, the abundant foliage making the transition from outside to inside seamless, with towering masses of greenery at every turn of the head. So different from the many large, bustling, antiseptic resorts often lining Caribbean beaches. Here, you’re a part of Jamaica, mon!

The beach a short walk away, free of the seaweed currently plaguing so many Caribbean shores.  Spotting a red flag usually indicates a warning sign of some kind. Here, placed in front of your chaise lounge, it simply means please bring me another Pina Colada…

Chase and Bonnie Pilcher from Blacksburg, VA were “super impressed with everything. The rooms are beautiful, everyone so friendly…” Their voices drifted off as their colorful Bob Marley drinks were served chaise-side. I didn’t blame them.

Tranquil was a word I heard a lot. Maybe because the all-inclusive resort is adults only – except for Betty’s kids of course, and they’re not likely to be running down the halls… And as appealing as reggae music is in the Caribbean, it is often ear-splitting along the beaches and the bars. Here, it is mellow – though, admittedly, for some, that might seem an oxymoron.

But it is just that mellowness that so appeals to Liz Smelts from Ontario, Canada. On her fourth visit, she loves the peace and relaxation, the environment and the food, the friendliness of the staff. “It feels like home,” she gushed.

The resort comes by its name honestly. All the rooms resemble palm-fringed treehouses. The hammock on our tree-topped balcony was just a bonus. One morning I was awakened by an unaccustomed sound only to find, Betty, husband Royal Brown and kids bleating greetings below our balcony.

Sunset is all about service. Everyone sports a badge saying, “I am your personal concierge,” which I initially mistook for … well… the actual concierge. And indeed there did seem to be a more genuine camaraderie between staff and guests than I’ve seen at other resorts, possibly because so many are repeat customers.

Taking the pampering of guests to an extreme, there is a crossing guard to usher you across the street to the beach. Admittedly I felt like I was in grade school again and petulantly assured the poor guard that I had been crossing the street by myself for decades without mishap.

Like every all-inclusive, there are a number of restaurant options, but how often do you go to a restaurant with no idea of what you’re having for dinner? Welcome to the Chef’s Showcase, where every night is a surprise. After an introduction, a request for food allergies, and assurances to those who pronounced themselves gluten-free to sit back and relax, the chef prepared a five-course meal in a candle-lit setting that sparkles with class and romanticism. But be prepared – it’s a while between courses. This is island-time, the precision timepiece upon which Jamaica runs. Overheard at a bar one afternoon, a local remarked that he’d be ready in 3 minutes. He then added: “That’s 6 minutes in Jamaican.”

Just sitting at the bar is an island experience in itself. Locals instinctively move to the music as if they were on a dance floor. And not just any dance floor but one in the middle of a dance contest. And perhaps not without some embellishment. Everywhere on the island there is that unmistakable whiff of the ubiquitous substance for which the island is so famous. It was nice to hear that possession of small amounts is now even legal.

There are three things for which Jamaica is famous: Dunn’s River Falls in Ocho Rios, the aforementioned ganja and Rick’s Cafe in Negril, where everyone at one time or another has to go to see the sunset. So go we did, despite the noise, the crowds, the commercialism and a sunset like many others (okay, so it was a pretty nice sunset…) for which the masses erupt in applause. What a marketing idea! Which is what I applauded as I happily headed for the exit. Check the Rick’s Cafe box – been there, done that.

A much more authentic experience happened on our Rasta Tour at Zimbali Retreat in Negril. Although Zimbali is a fascinating destination in its own right, based on organic farming and the Rastafarian philosophy, we were there to meet Fire. And to do that, we had to first climb a mountain. Lassie, a dog of course, acted as tour guide and led the way. The fact that Oneil Samuels also accompanied us was a plus as he, admittedly, was a tad more communicative about the plants we passed, the fields of food and the springs from which everyone gets their water.

To say we climbed to the top of a mountain is no exaggeration; to say it was worth it is also not an exaggeration, not only for the views and the excellent all natural meal prepared by Fire but mainly for his story. He’s been living away from civilization for 33 years in a lean-to that doesn’t even qualify as a hut. Long ago, he felt a need to get away from his mainstream life and learn how to survive – literally – in the 21st century. He grows what he needs to live, espouses a simple, less-stressful life living off Mother Earth, and adopts the Rasta approach of kindness, simplicity, eschewing financial gains and the concept of “Let food be your medicine; medicine be your food.”

When he started grating coconut on a grater, it sounded a lot like a Reggae beat – which somehow seemed fitting. Life as a Rasta, says Fire, became much easier after Bob Marley. The plantain, soy meat, carrots and callaloo flavored in coconut milk was perhaps not your usual luncheon fare but it was tasty. Fire lost me just a bit when he answered his smartphone. He acknowledged, with a smile: “There goes my reputation.” But technology is ubiquitous even on top of a mountain.

A more typical outing was the trip to YS Falls and the Black River, one of the hotel tour options. YS Falls offers a multitude of ways to swing over, jump into, swim under and play in a wide variety of waterfalls. And if none of that appeals, the falls alone provide sufficient photo ops. The boat ride along the Black River is billed as a “river safari” – using the term very loosely. I suspect just having crocodiles in the river justifies the safari designation. Otherwise, it’s nice boat ride with all the de rigueur bird sighting that accompany all such ventures.

As we left the resort kicking and screaming, our voices were overshadowed by the gentle bleating of the entire Royal Brown family who all gathered below our balcony to say good-bye. A fitting exit, mon! For more information, visit the Sunset at the Palms Jamaica website.

The post Sunset at the Palms: Getting One’s Goat in Jamaica…. appeared first on Traveling Archive.

The first I ever heard of La Jolla was when my mother went there for a psychology conference focusing on the studies of Carl Jung. It was during the Hippie generation and mother embraced a lot of that culture. So, I expected to see a community built on those values. I was only here for a weekend and these are just my first impressions.

La Jolla (La-HOY-a) stretches out along Southern California’s western coastline, just a brief drive north of downtown San Diego, and about 30 miles north of the Mexican border. It’s famous for its small cove and its beach, surrounded by residential homes perched on its cliffs. Its fame also includes surfing, snorkeling and scuba activities. Free public parking is very limited — mostly found on the street. There is a strong ecological movement, so it’s a haven for sea lions, sea gulls, and various fish. There are many important restrictions imposed by the (California Coastal Commission) as to what and when to bring floating devices (surfboards, boogie boards, kayakers, inflatable mattresses, etc.) to the beach, so it’s best to check the regulations first before you head out to paradise. Sorry, no dogs allowed in the beaches. I did see several surf boarders and a swarm of kayakers huddled in the waters. As is typical in California, there is a war between the free-spirited locals who access the beach and water for fun, and the conservationists who wish to preserve it.

Did you know it isn’t called a city or even a town? The locals call it a Village. From the hotel staff to the man-on-the-street, there didn’t seem to be a consensus of what was unique about this place (other than the imposing cove) they call home. There weren’t any famous landmarks except maybe the local library or the museum. No one seemed to be aware of the artifacts discovered throughout La Jolla over the decades, indicating that the Native American La Jolla Band of the Luiseño Tribe settled along the shoreline nearly 10,000 years ago. The actual name of La Jolla is also a mystery among town historians; whether it comes from the Spanish word La Joya (which means the jewel) or from the La Jolla Band term Woholle (meaning hole in the mountains. The mystery continues with others claiming that the Kumeyaay Native Americans coined the name Kulaaxuuy (land of holes). With no historical records or documents, the history of La Jolla remains mudded, so mudded that it would require more than my weekend stay in the village to reach an understanding.

I later discovered that there were actually quite a few celebrities who had lived or once-lived in the Village. Why didn’t any of the long-time residents of La Jolla not even know about their famous neighbors? Maybe it’s because the Village is mostly residential and wealthy residents commonly covet their privacy. Actor Gregory Peck was born in La Jolla, and political commentator Tucker Carlson was raised there. Spiritual writer Deepak Chopra ran his “Center for Well Being” in the Village, and Theodor “Dr. Seuss” Geisel was a life-time resident. Novelist Anne Rice (“Interview with a Vampire”) moved there from New Orleans, while one of my favorite mellow songwriters, Michael Franks, also made it his home-base. Utah senator Mitt Romney bought a $12 million La Jolla vacation home in 2008, and the first female astronaut Sally Ride lived above the cove before her spectacular explosive death on a rocket ship. And, one of Musicdom’s hotest artists, Alicia Keys, lives there as well.

Larry, who drives a shuttle bus and has lived in La Jolla forever, in an impromptu interview about his hometown.

They have one major commercial downtown area they call the Village where businesses and (mostly) restaurants and other tourist destinations are located. The University of California, San Diego, also the site of the La Jolla Playhouse and James’ Place restaurant is about half an hour away. When I browsed through the local newspaper, I noticed that real estate agents boasting of their multi-million-dollar sales comprised much of the advertisers. Houses averaged in the five-million-dollar range. If you own a house in La Jolla, you’re instantly part of the exclusive Rich and Famous.

Each house had its own personality. They weren’t track housing common to middle class society. I loved the magnificent variety of trees. Apartments looked small and expensive. Parking at night might be a problem here. The homes along the cove are architectural delights. Almost all of which have glass walls to enjoy the beauty of the crashing waves. A few were undergoing major renovations. One seemed to be fortifying the stilt foundation it has been perched on.

Walking along the side roads towards the Village from my hotel, I observed the houses below me and I’m guessing from the dusty cement structures along the main road, these owners have lived here forever — part of the old rich. The white flat-roofed houses were staggered along the cliff and weren’t particularly flashy but “location, location, location” made them expensive. At the Village, I noticed quite a few flashy low-riding sportscars parked by the mall. Due to the pandemic, many of the restaurants had outside extensions where young professionals chatted in their fashionable summer attire.

I enjoyed the flat and 3-dimensional artwork in the high-end galleries. You know there has to be a market for these shops to survive. The antique wooden intricately-decorated Athenaeum Music & Arts Library, located in the heart of La Jolla, proved to be a highpoint. I had a fascinating conversation with the knowledgeable librarian who seems to enjoy her work. The shelves were lined with faded books that begged me to ruffle through their pages. I was the only outsider in that huge building. There was a music room where the UC San Diego Music ensemble gave a concert just a few days ago. Also, it’s well worth the short one-mile drive to La Jolla’s Mt. Soledad National Veterans Memorial for a view of the only memorial that honors veterans, living or deceased, from the U.S. Revolutionary War to the war on terrorism today.

La Jolla. It’s the expensive beach cove of America. If you want to observe the vacation home of the quietly rich and famous, this is it.

Accommodations:

We stayed at the La Jolla Shores Hotel. It’s a long-established beachfront hotel. You literally see the pounding surf waves a hundred feet away from the building. Judging by its architecture, it was made in the 1980s. It isn’t a sparkling high-end hotel but the rooms are decent. The bathroom fixtures are of an earlier era. The location of the electrical outlets didn’t account for the Internet technology so they weren’t conveniently located. The food was as good as expected. The staff was very friendly and full of smiles. I was especially glad to have (free) complimentary shuttle service because I walked about two-miles from the hotel to the Village and I was too tired to walk back. Aside from beach sports, tennis, ping pong and golf are a favorite pastime. It’s a great place to hold an overnight wedding party or a weekend retreat.

Click here for more information about La Jolla

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The word is that the Dali Theater-Museum, celebrating the life and work of its enigmatic founder Salvador Dali, (1904-1989), Girona’s world-famous surrealist artist, is now one of the city’s most visited tourist attractions. The revival of interest in his paintings, both revered and ridiculed during his lifetime, are now seen as visionary.

Dali’s most recognized painting, the Persistence of Memory, now in the Museum of Modern Art, in New York, depicts — according to some — a dying world, marked by a scorched landscape and melted pocket watches. Or as one of the guides in the Dali Theater-Museum explained to the tour group I joined, the painting clearly suggests that dream time is elastic, the drooping clocks a clue to its creator’s inner life.

Are his paintings symbolic or are they a joke? asked a frowning young man who’d been standing silently, pondering an image of Dali’s wife titled Galatea of the Spheres. The guide blinked and the query went unanswered. Fortunately for historians, Dali, the man, who spent most of his life in Girona, left as many clues as he did art.

Dali’s life in Girona, his home in Port Lligat and his wife’s home in Pubol, both open for guided tours, offer surprising insights into the artist and the man. Sunny summers in the beach town of Cadaques, 15 minutes from Port Lligat, where his family often summered – and where I spent a charmed afternoon – fostered a love of the sea. For clues to his last decade, and some of his largest most ambitious projects, the answers are found in the Dali Theater-Museum, a building he designed and built on the site of his favorite movie theater, in Figueres, where he grew up.

I should have started at the museum when I headed to Girona for a long-planned, two-week escape. But Salvador Dali was the last thing on my mind. I’d been to the Costa Brava years earlier, stayed a couple of days and spent most of my time there on the world’s most inviting  beach. Going back again, I realized Girona was a town with a history. Settled 2000 years ago by the Iberians and officially founded by the Romans in the 5^th century, it has been a proud survivor. 

Free to wander, I spent a couple of days exploring the Old Quarter, first circling the area on the path of 4^th century Roman wall, then visiting various 10^th century monasteries and churches. Deep in the middle of the ancient streets I discovered a wide spot, with a couple of shade trees and a café, my lode stone from that moment on.

On the advice of Marco, the hotel clerk, who said he was more interested in movies than history, I climbed the 91 stone steps up to the entrance of the 12^th century Romanesque Cathedral, built on top of a mosque, after the Moors were defeated and driven out.  They’re the same steps that the “Game of Throne” used when they were filming the last season, he said, beamingly.  Counting each step, I thought of the countless people who’d been there before me.  

Marco also recommended a sight-seeing bus tour north along the coast to the Cap de Creus, the tip of a rocky peninsula jutting into the Mediterranean Sea. The drive, winding through bush-covered hills ended above a windswept rim, looking down at the water and a chain of small bays. Munching a bag lunch and stretching my legs, I spotted a sailboat leaning into the wind, heading north toward the French border, 16 miles away. Before there was a border, Phoenician and Greek ships came this way, stopping at coastal villages like Empuries, to trade.  

Ten days into my vacation, done with museums and the occasional vineyard tour and wine-tasting, I headed to the beach, still the softest sand and freshest water on the Mediterranean’s western shore. Striking up a conversation with a couple of Canadians sunning nearby made the afternoon fly by. They had rented an apartment for six weeks, I was in a hotel; they were going on to Madrid, I was flying back to Denver. We both liked skiing at Whistler Blackcomb, in British Columbia. And they wanted to know more about Salvador Dali.

So, I tagged along, heading first for –  Pubol Castle, the 12^th century mansion Dali bought in 1970 for his wife Gala. Larger than it appears from the entrance, it consists of a main house, a tower and an open-air covered passageway, surrounded by gardens.   

Joining a tour, we were waved through by a guide who offered a brief history: The renovation of the building, Dali’s interior designs and the decade that Gala lived there alone, entertaining overnight guests, both women and men, and banning Dali, except by her written invitation. 

People ask why she wanted a house of her own, said the guide, when the rest of the group drifted away to other rooms. Dali was 67 or 68 then, and Gala was 77, ten years older than he was. Too old to want another man, you’d think. He loved her, but they couldn’t live together. Like many couples.

Whatever the reason, Dali rebuilt the structure and surrounded it with gardens, tucking home-made stick-thin elephants between the leaves. Furnishing the rooms with satin and velvet, he installed modern bathrooms and a kitchen, and he decorated with paintings, ceiling murals, wall hangings, hand-decorated tiles, tiny tables, angular arm chairs, mirrors and dozens of little baubles and charms. A reluctant collector myself, it tickled my heart to see that he, too, couldn’t resist objets d’art.

Spotting a lion’s head lying on top of an 18th century wardrobe (a clothes closet), near an out-of-focus photo of a person, I took a second look. Comic theater? Or was Dali spoofing the book, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe? He could have read it when they fled Spain for New York City, in 1940, after the Nazis invaded France.

Before we left, I went to the photography exhibit upstairs to see what Dali and Gala looked like together, in plain black and white. They’re in their Manhattan studio, she’s laughing for the photographer, and he, the celebrity of the moment, is mugging for the photographer, with his trademark wide-eyed stare and curvy black mustache.

The next day we headed for Dali’s permanent home on the shore in Port Lligat, a house filled with gewgaws, cartoon figures, knickknacks, a stuffed bear next to the stairs and chains of tiny, dried, white everlasting flowers. The sort of things a teenager collects.

The house, with several six-foot white eggs mounted on the roof, one of them half-cracked, were a link to his older  brother, who died at nine months old. According to Rosia our guide, the cracked egg, big enough for a man to climb inside, symbolized Dali’s other half, without which — it’s said, he always felt incomplete.

I’d already been to the museum in Figueres; now I wished I’d saved it for last. Making another reservation I went again, walking and looking. This time the place was packed, the rooms crowded with guided tours. Don’t come on Saturday if you can avoid it. But if those drooping clocks leave you wondering, come. This is where the pilgrimage ends and disconnected symbols click together, making sense. I hope. At the very least, I left with a new respect for Spain’s greatest 20th century painter.

For more: See Salvador Dali’s Celebrity suites, Part 3 at the Hôtel Maurice in Paris.

The post Finding Dali: Celebrating the Best of Girona appeared first on Traveling Archive.

As we dream of carefree, alluring days on the ocean’s shore, my thoughts naturally turn to fun things to nibble while at the beach.  I thought it would be fun to see what our T-Boy writers and readers’ selections might be from their ancestral homelands for the perfect and most traditional things to eat on the beach. Some I knew, and look forward to revisiting, while others I was absolutely clueless about, but will give them a try, sans digging a fire pit in my kitchen.

From Tom in Puglia, southeastern Italy:

Down in the Salento sub-region of Puglia in southeastern Italy, a real crowd pleaser is a signature dish of Cavatelli pasta with chickpeas and mussels along with a glass or two of chilled rosato wine. Mmm!

From Richard in Los Cabos, Mexico:

Los Cabos and pretty much throughout Mexico, most of the beaches are near or fronting resorts and even the more remote beaches you will find little mom and pop stands offering delight food. The food varies throughout Mexico but overall, on the beach a popular choice are the famed Mexican tacos, generally served open face, not the tight taco version you see in fast food restaurants.  You will notice with the surf singing, people will be enjoying a plate of tacos which can be as varied as wild flowers — chicken, beef and camaron (shrimp) tacos with fresh slices of avocado, sometimes mango, chopped jalapeno pepper, ginger-lime dressing, chips, salsa and a slice of lime on the side. Baja is also noted for the soft Mahi Mahi tacos tucked in a large flour tortilla.

From Alex in Peru:

Perhaps the most beloved dish throughout the coastal regions of Peru is ceviche. You’ll find it in restaurants and on the street in any coastal city, especially along the beach. The refreshing dish is made with a considerable amount of lime juice whose acidity helps cook the raw fish. The liquified juice from the ceviche, often sold separately with only a few pieces of fish, is traditionally referred to in Spanish as leche de tigre, tiger’s milk, because of its white color. While vendors may offer you either dish while you lounge on the beach, I’d recommend finding a reputable restaurant, especially if your stomach has not fully adjusted to the food in Peru.

From Annie in Ecuador:

Batidos (fruit smoothies), maracuyá was the best 🙂 We had coconut shrimp and patacones for lunch normally served with rice and ceviche (cold soup) served with plantain chips and popcorn. Also Corviche, a palm-sized, heavy bun made of fried or baked un-ripe plantain, flavored with pulvarized peanuts and often stuffed with albacore. They have a hushpuppy-like texture: crunchy on the outside and steamy inside.

From Sarah in Jamaica:

In Jamaica, the Patty is a popular snack. The Jamaican Patty is a baked or fried orangish flaky pocket filled with either curry chicken or traditional beef. On the beach, conch fritters, and if you’re lucky there’s a fish fry shack within walking distance. This was a good video about an authentic Jamaican beach Sunday.

From Harry in Nevis, St. Kitts & Nevis:

On Nevis, anything goes. Most beaches on the small island have luxury resorts that provide service. Lunch could be grilled fresh-caught lobster with a delicious organic salad, and of course, fries. And each resort and restaurant have their own special rum punch to accompany the lunch or snack. 🙂 You know, I did their 25th Anniversary commemorative cookbook when I was at Four Seasons Nevis. I’ve attached their recipe for Nevisian Spiny Lobster. The Chef’s has since moved to another resort.

From Weave in British Columbia, Canada:

Fish & chips are really popular here as take-out with tartar sauce and malt vinegar. Their fragrance ever so slightly steals some of the sea air. Moby Dick’s Restaurant is the most popular of all the fish and chip places in White Rock, British Columbia. Something interesting about Moby’s — they ALWAYS give you an extra piece of fish, it’s their thing. So, if you want two pieces just order a 1 pc. The beach is directly across the street.

From Robin in New England:

The clambake, also known as the New England clambake, is a traditional method of cooking seafood, such as lobster, mussels, crabs, soft-shell clams, and quahogs. The food is traditionally cooked by steaming the ingredients over layers of seaweed. The shellfish can be supplemented with vegetables, such as onions, carrots, and corn on the cob. Clambakes are usually held on festive occasions along the coast of New England.

A typical clambake begins with gathering seaweed at the shoreline; seaweed is an important adjunct to cooking the food. To keep the seaweed fresh, it is necessary to have a container large enough to hold both the seaweed and a fair amount of sea water.

Also important are several round medium-sized stones, or sometimes cannonballs, which are heated in the fire and used to re-radiate heat during the cooking process.

Like most other methods of steaming, a cover is necessary to allow the trapped heat and steam to thoroughly cook the food. Canvas tarps or potato sacks soaked in sea water are often used for this purpose.

Once the stones and seaweed have been collected, a fire pit is prepared. Some prefer to simply start a fire within the pit, while others line the edges with flat stones to provide support for a metal grill on which the stones may be placed.

The stones used for cooking are then placed in the center of the pit and a wood fire is started, although the exact method of heating the stones varies. The fire must burn until the stones are glowing hot. Care must be taken to ensure that the fire will burn out shortly after this optimal cooking temperature is achieved. The ashes are then swept off the stones and raked between them to form an insulating “bed.” A layer of wet seaweed is placed over the stones, followed by traditional regional foods such as steamers, mussels, quahogs, and lobsters. Side dishes usually include corn on the cob, potatoes, carrots, and onions. Alternating layers of seaweed and food are piled on top and the entire mound is covered with canvas that has been drenched in water to seal in the heat and prevent the canvas from burning. The food should steam for several hours.

From Raudi in Honduras:

A common beach snack is coconut bread. For lunch, sopa de caracol or fried fish and plantains.

From Emily in Hawaii:

• Spam musubi — We do not mess around when it comes to Spam — in fact Hawaiians consume 90% of it in the US. One slice of Spam laid onto a bed of rice and then carefully wrapped in a thin sheet of nori (seaweed) makes for a salty and hearty snack to pack in your bag.
• Poké — This is a Hawaiian staple and something Haoles (once defined as ‘newcomers,’ but now any person in Hawaii who is not of Polynesian heritage, generally a white person) shouldn’t even consider leaving the islands without trying at least once. It’s a famously popular go-to snack for going beach.
• Plate lunch — Inspired by Japan’s bento-style meal, a plate lunch usually comes with white rice, macaroni salad, and some type of main protein, making it a fantastic meal to fill you up during a day at the beach.
• Hurricane popcorn — Though you can easily pick up some store-bought hurricane popcorn on the way to the beach, it’s also very simple to make your own version at home. It’s a mix of buttered popcorn, some salty kakimochi arare, makes the perfect combination of flavors that will keep you going on a hot day.
• Malasadas — There are donuts and then there are mouthwatering, heavenly, custard-filled, life-changing malasadas, brought to us by Portuguese ranchers.

From Celia in Brazil:

The Açaí berry grows on palm trees in the Brazilian rainforests. The lifeblood of  Brazilian surfers, Açaí bowls are extremely popular in our beach towns, and have spread across the world to even metropolitan hubs because of our surfers. They’re delicious and to top it all off, they are extremely healthy.

Instructions:

1. Place the apple juice, banana, frozen berries, yogurt, honey and acai puree in the blender.
2. Blend until thoroughly combined and smooth.
3. Pour the smoothie into 2 deep bowls.
4. Arrange the desired toppings over your smoothie bowls and serve.

From Raoul in the Philippines:

Hmmm… grilled anything — fish, octopus, pork, shrimp and of course steamed white rice. Spicy Vinaigrette with chili and lots of garlic. Coconut juice, soda and beer. Tomatoes, mango (ripe and green) with bagoong (shrimp paste).

From Deb in Cinque Terre, Italy:

Eating reigned supreme in our five days at the Cinque Terre, and we decided to hike to each of the five hillside towns and have lunch. As of no surprise, our favorite Ligurian specialties were always found on the menu: Pesto all Genovese, focaccia (Genoa’s flat bread that predates pizza), fresh seafood, which included my first taste of real anchovies, and local chilled white wines. While strolling, food was still always on our mind, and we discovered many stands serving delectable street food in a cone. My husband and I never hesitated to choose a mix of fried seafood which included anchovies, fish, calamari, chips, and petite rectangles of baked bread, definitely to be eaten by the seaside.

The post Audrey’s Global Picks for Eats on the Beach appeared first on Traveling Archive.

If you can answer “yes” to three essential questions, a dream vacation at Villa Manzu, on Costa Rica’s Papagayo Peninsula, may be in your stars.

Do you have a dozen or more buddies, besties who’ve been vaccinated for Covid-19 and are itching to get out of the house? Are they the free-wheeling sort, willing to splurge, always up for an adventure? Lastly, are they cheerful and tolerant, relaxed enough to share a house with 21 other people?

When a letter arrived from Stephanie, one of my oldest friends, announcing her anniversary and proposing a getaway with 20-odd other people – mutual friends and colleagues – I was tempted to toss it. A six-day vacation at Villa Manzu, a private, fully-staffed mansion with two dozen strangers? Crowds aren’t usually my thing. But in a mansion like Manzu, she explained, you need a crowd – or a big bank account – to share the cost.

“Do join us, you won’t be sorry,” she said, reeling off the benefits. Guests are guaranteed privacy and luxury, of course, as well as a variety of activities: ocean swimming, two heated pools, kayaks, paddle boards, fishing gear, impeccable service and chauffeured drives in the area and to and from the airport in Liberia. Chef-prepared meals and butler-served cocktails served at any hour, are part of the pleasure, she insisted, along with glimpses of neighborhood residents, including Costa Rica’s most popular furry friends: monkeys and sloths. I hemmed and hawed, and then I jumped.

Six weeks later we – my partner and I – were on our way, flying into Liberia Airport, where a Manzu driver was waiting. Forty minutes later, driving out onto the exclusive Papagayo Peninsula, we got our first look at the house, an adobe-colored contemporary building spread out over five acres, with connecting wings flanked by patios, lawns, native trees and flowering bushes.

“Make yourself at home,” said Stephanie, greeting us with warm hugs and introducing her three children, ages 9 to 14. “Take in the scenery. Join us in the pool; it’s heated,” she said, motioning toward an outside pool and an infinity pool. “But first, meet the butler, Luis Morera, who makes the most marvelous cocktails.”

Melting away to greet other friends, she left us alone to admire the owner’s collection of art and artifacts displayed in the corridors and on living room walls. Two chefs looked up from the open-air kitchen, smiling “hello” as they bustled between refrigerators, ovens and chopping blocks, re-supplying platters laden with appetizers.

Following our suitcases upstairs, we settled in, then checked out the other bedrooms, five of them, all spacious, with windows, big closets and indoor-outdoor showers. Designed for couples, friends and families, they were arranged that way, with more beds in some rooms, and nooks for single beds in family rooms. Umbrella-shaded patio decks were tucked into spaces above the rooms below. Back downstairs, I spotted the infinity pool and headed outside for a 180-degree views of the surrounding bays and beaches beyond.

On the main level again, we followed an outside staircase down to lower level and a second, more private pool with a waterfall, around the corner from a casual party room, bar and a small theater. Crossing the lawn below, we found the path downhill to the beach. Another path, to the west, wound through the trees to the cliff and a viewing space set up with a fire circle and benches, arranged to catch Costa Rica’s spectacular sunsets.

“You can sit at the counter and talk ingredients with the chefs,” said Stephanie when we returned to the living room where our fellow travelers were sharing glasses of wine and chatting. “They’re happy to share their recipes. Or ask about tonight’s recommended wine-pairings.” Tomorrow, she insisted, we must walk down to the beach and try snorkeling. “Or you can take a car to the beach club, or borrow clubs and play golf. It’s ten minutes away and Villa Manzu has guest privileges. You can dock in the local harbor,” she added, with a wink. “Next time come by yacht.”

At Villa Manzu, keeping things running smoothly is accomplished to a “t” by a dedicated staff of 22, including two on-the-spot managers – a husband-and-wife partnership – and a butler, three chefs, a ground crew, maids and drivers. Comfort and privacy are guaranteed, which is why Manzu’s list of illustrious visitors – celebrities, tech-company millionaires, movie moguls and the like – remains a secret. You could be one of them.

Glad You Asked:

Costa Rica’s borders are open for visitors and tourists with passports and proof of recent Covid vaccinations. Your best bet?  Plan a trip with family or friends and share the cost. The Villa sleeps 22 adults and/or children, depending on ages. Guests in residence have the house exclusively, including meals, wine, cocktails, snacks, sports equipment, fishing gear, a car, guides, and friendly Costa Rican hospitality.

Rates vary based upon the season. Call for dates and availability. More questions? Search the internet for “Villa Manzu Costa Rica.”

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Seven years ago we got on a flight to Dumaguete City (Doo-mah-ge-teh) down south and unto a ferry bound for the enigmatic island. Its laid-back charm, friendly people, postcard-perfect white sand beaches, turquoise waters, old churches, cool waterfalls and fiery sunsets overcame whatever trepidations we had about touring Siquijor. It was such an enjoyable experience that we went back for a second visit just before the Covid pandemic hit.

Siquijor wasn’t as popular when we first toured the province as it is now – to Filipinos at least. When we first set foot on the island and made our way to a resort on quiet Sandugan Beach in Larena (Lah-re-nah) it seemed we were the only Filipino visitors. Most of the other guests were Americans and Europeans. It was obvious that stories about the supernatural in Siquijor were scaring off local tourists. A friend who had visited the island even warned us not to look at local residents in the eyes – a long-held belief for dealing with sorcerers.

The beauty of the island’s pristine attractions, however, trumped over any apprehensions we had about visiting Siquijor. In particular the island is surrounded by a large number of white sand beaches spread out evenly among its 6 towns.

The town of Maria on the eastern coast of Siquijor is home to two beautiful beaches including Salagdoong (Sa-lag-doe-ong) Beach, a public beach managed by the local government. An irritant in the form of an unsightly-looking water park that according to Lonely Planet “has seen better days” stands atop karst rocks in the center of the beach. Despite this Salagdoong charmed us with its white sand and crystal-clear aquamarine and turquoise waters where we swam and snorkeled to our hearts’ content. A lesser-known but no less stunning beach is Kagusuan (Kah-goo-soo-anh), a deserted beach that we had all to ourselves the first time we visited 7 years ago.

On the western coast of Siquijor past Larena is San Juan with a string of white sand beaches. While this town contains the most number of resorts on the island – and where we stayed during our second visit – the beaches have been kept clean and pristine. The beach in front of Coral Cay Resort is typical of the long line of white sand beaches that begins here and ends somewhere near the Coco Grove Beach Resort. There’s plenty of good diving here as well, especially at Maite (Mah-ee-teh) Point and at the Tubod (Too-bod) Marine Sanctuary in front of Coco Grove. Because they face west, San Juan’s beaches are known for spectacular sunset views.

Our favorite beach in the whole province during our first visit was Paliton Beach in the northern part of San Juan. At that time no resorts or tourist establishments existed at Paliton (Pah-lee-ton) which has been declared a marine sanctuary with its excellent dive sites. The beach was practically unheard of when we first arrived in late 2013 and we were the only ones in the area. Fast forward 6 years later and we would encounter a sizable crowd and lively food stalls on the palm-fringed beach. But still no resorts.

South of San Juan is the capital town also named Siquijor with its own collection of white sand beaches and old churches. The most interesting view here is the port which is situated on a stretch of blindingly white sand beach at low tide. At high tide the views are just as magnificent with a maze of aquamarine and turquoise waters offshore which makes this port the cleanest and most beautiful we’ve encountered so far. How often does a commercial port turn up as a tourist attraction?

The last town on this list is the southernmost municipality of Lazi (Lah-zee). Easily the most popular natural destination here is the three-tiered Cambugahay (Kam-boo-gah-hai) Falls with its cool spring water, surrounding verdant forest and gorgeous turquoise-colored catch basins. It is situated just beside the road and the 136-step walkway going down the falls is no problem – except when you have to go back up. But there are no long hikes to get here and just a little exercise won’t hurt. The more adventurous can play Tarzan at Cambugahay’s lowermost tier by using a swing to catapult themselves into the water.

Lazi is home to two historical sites – the San Isidro Labrador Church, built mainly of coral rock and an excellent example of local baroque architecture, and the adjacent San Isidro Labrador Convent, one of the oldest and biggest convents in Asia. The church was closed on both occasions when we visited but we did get to tour the convent’s interior. Nina had an eerie feeling about something supernatural inside this convent – the same sensation she felt when we visited the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum in Phnom Penh, Cambodia which locals say are haunted by ghosts of victims of the Khmer Rouge. This was perhaps the closest thing we’ve had to a spirit encounter in two visits to Siquijor.

Another destination here that often prompts talks about the supernatural is the Centuries-Old Balete (Bah-leh-teh) Tree also in Lazi. Sometimes known as the strangler fig tree, the balete starts off by attaching itself to a tree, growing hanging roots, then encircling the host tree before suffocating and killing it. Many Filipinos have associated these trees with the supernatural, believing that the balete harbors creatures from the underworld such as dwarves, kapre (Kah-preh – a tree demon) and tikbalang (Teek-bah-lang – a horse demon). One look at this huge balete with its numerous hanging roots and you begin to appreciate the superstition ascribed by locals to the mystical-looking tree. And since Siquijor has long been associated with the occult, the Centuries-Old Balete Tree takes on an even more sinister reputation.

Besides Nina’s eerie sensation at the convent in Lazi, however, we had no other such encounters elsewhere on the island. The friendliness of the locals – we believe many are actually offended by Siquijor’s reputation as a center of occultism and sorcery ­– partly served to dispel notions of the province’s notoriety. And on our second visit the island had a different and obvious festive vibe with places where we used to be the only visitors now filling up with tourists, resorts and dining areas. This probably explains why the island is now popular with Filipinos who were very hesitant about visiting the province years ago.

Getting There

There are no direct flights to Siquijor from Manila or Cebu but there are daily flights on Cebu Pacific and Philippine Airlines to Dumaguete City, the nearest commercial airport. From the port at Dumaguete there are several ferries bound for Siquijor town or Larena. The fast ferries can make the trip in 45 minutes or so. On Siquijor itself travel is mainly by motorbike (there are motorbikes for rent), trikes or small 4-wheeled vehicles called multi cabs.

For the moment travel to Siquijor and other places in the Philippines are restricted due to Covid-19 although the provincial government is looking to reopen its tourism industry as part of the local government’s recovery plan amid the pandemic.

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