Antulang: Of Oceania and Thalassophobia

(Thanks to Phillip Kimpo, Jr. for the pictures, and no, I wasn’t paid to write this.  – Marocharim)

I’m a “face your fears” type of person, but if there’s anything that can scare the shit out of me, it’s the open sea.  Edgar Allan Poe and Ernest Hemingway can kiss my ass.

It’s the weekend for the National Writers Workshop, and Mr. Alfred Yuson – with his kindness, graciousness, and generosity – sent us all to a beach weekend at Antulang Beach Resort, just an hour and a half away from Dumaguete City by shuttle.  It was fun, of course, but this all comes with the trite and fair warning that I have a really serious and irrational issue with open bodies of water.  See, when you lived much of your life in the mountains and you had one too many accidents at the beach, you start to have serious fear issues.

dsc_1078So the first line of defense would be that while your roommate and co-fellow in creative non-fiction would be equipped with beachwear, you would wear a jacket and a Guns N’ Roses shirt.  My plan then backfired, since the beach weekend had us going on a cruise, a swim, and just about every frolicky activity that has something to do with open seas and swimming pools.

Then again, the problem with the first line of defense would be that when it’s broken, you have absolutely no freaking choice but to go out to the water and pray to whatever gods may be that you won’t drown.  Or the sea monsters won’t rise up from the surface and swallow me alive.  Or that the sunblock had enough SPF in it to completely block out the sun.  Bea and Mo didn’t want me to wear sunblock for the cruise, and Sir Ian started making passing jokes that I may end up glittering a’la Edward Cullen.  But I did manage to lose the jacket.

Anyway, some snapshots of our cruise and our day at Antulang:


If the villas cost P15,000 + a day to rent, then the entryway must look really expensive.


Part of the resort, taken from the motorboat that took us to…


The good ship Venus.  It wasn’t friggin’ in the riggin’ the fuck what else to do that took place.


Some of the fellows from the top of the yacht.  Anyway from left that’s Mo, Bea, Ynna, Keith, and myself.  Now there’s a good reason why I don’t wear shorts too often.


My fellows were calling me “Ozzy Osbourne,” but I don’t think I’ll be having a career in porno any time soon.


Some island or part of Negros.  Beautiful, but I was getting nauseous by then.


Ah, the yacht named “Annabelle Lee.”  On the other side, some other yachts.  Looked like a video game.


The infinity pool in Antulang, facing Dipolog.  The semiotic value of this picture is just so awesome.


Oh hi there, private swimming pool in private villa.  Glad to meet you.


Sunset… there’s probably an island there somewhere.


Moonlight over the seas of Negros.  ‘Course this wouldn’t be complete without one decent picture I took:


Nomnom, of course: soup, barbecue, kilawin, banana heart salad, rice flavored with puso ng saging, and a couple of cheese rolls.

I’m lovin’ this place already.

3 thoughts on “Antulang: Of Oceania and Thalassophobia

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *