Boy Remo’s October 2007 sojourn to that Parubcan hideaway must be very exciting. I recall going to a seaside town which looks like Aguirangan Island. The breeze is as welcoming as the boat which cruises its way to the sun-drenched shore.
Yet, the night is coming. Above the clear blue waters of Bicol’s treasure island, the sky looks opalescent as evening takes over. The sun’s last rays remind me of a walk in a dark trail. I have a bamboo torch. Fed with petrol, it drips. With its light, I want to avoid a frog or a wayward dung on the way!
The stars appear like tiny diamonds in the sky. Luminescent fire-flies buzz over tall trees not far from the quiet shore. A forlon dog howls from somewhere as if unseen ghosts are summoned to beguile those who’re new in the town.
The crickets whisper like fabled sirens calling from the surf. I’m twinkle-eyed imagining a beach in the Tropics where the languid red anemones grow and the corals flourish.
Friends and relatives are around. We’re all very excited. There’s the smell of freshly roasted clams in an open fire. There’s the juicy barbecue tucked in fragile bamboo skewers for taking. San Miguel beer waits, ice-cold and bubbly, in a box nearby.
Our stories flow in as the waves hush over the sand. There’s the pale moon peeping behind mangrove trees! Yes! That’s frank beauty worth remembering! Aguirangan Island, I wish I’m with you!