6:30am: Boat Station #3, Boracay Island, Aklan Province, Panay Island, Visayas, The Philippines. Quite the address.

Boracay's international reputation as one of the best beaches in the world is a lot to live up to. When I arrived the sky was overcast and there was a grey tone to everything. This may have been because I had just endured about 20hours of travel from Puerto Galera (although I did sit around at the port in Roxas for about 8 hours...). The spotty sleep that I did get on the ferry hadn't done much to relax or refresh. I got off the ferry at the first station and it pulled back out to deliver passengers to other destinations up the beach. Walking up the grey sand, I looked out and saw the bay was absolutely full of moored trimarans and sailboats, quite a cluttered view. I walked up to the footpath behind a row of palm trees and pulled out my LP map to find Per's guesthouse. As I walked along vendors were just beginning to set up their stalls and sleepy Filipinos were gathered in food stalls eating rice. I found the path that led to Trafalgar Resort and quickly became lost in a mix of filipino housing. I walked past what looked like a garbage dump, although the entire clearing near the 'dump' seemed to be filled with litter. Electrical wires were slung between the palms, connecting makeshift homes. I asked one of the sleepy locals where I might find the resort and she happily escorted me to the gate, not far away. I found out what room Per was in and banged on his door a few times. Reluctantly he stirred and eventually opened the door. Glad to be reunited we planned to get together later after he had recovered a bit from his binge the night before, and after his kite surfing lesson. I was off to find somewhere to drop my bag and try to catch up on sleep.
I wandered down the paved footpath in front of Per's guesthouse (not a Resort if I might comment on that) and found another 'resort' at the end of a narrow gap between two shops. There a red bug-eyed woman with quite the beer gut told me that she didn't ahve any rooms available, and insisted on escorting me to a place nearby that did. She said she would talk to the owner and get me a good price. I shouldn't have followed her. Usually when one local shows you to another local's guesthouse they either expect a tip from you or a cut from the hotel. The place we went to, Boracay Dream Bay Homes (or something equally long and silly), was nice, the room was nice, but the price seemed high at 600p. As this price was already 'special for you' I was unsuccessful in talking them down. I finally accepted, and the buggy-eyed woman (who thought herself more of a man, I think) walked away satisfied.
The room was huge with a queen sized bed and a single, a shower and a toilet. Everything was made of bamboo, the standard for this area. I think they're called Nipa huts. Even the veranda outside was made from bamboo strips and poles. Quite nice.
I tried hard to sleep but found that I couldn't, and finally I restlessly wandered out to find something to eat. Walking along the path to the beach I passed shop after shop. Some sold fresh baked goods, others souvenirs and t-shirts, and still others sold fresh fish, crabs, prawns, and lobsters. Some of the fish were fantastically beautiful, a mix of red groupers with blue spots, aquamarine princess parrotfish, blue groupers, and a few other less distinct varieties. The same kinds that I had just shipped back home (in smaller sizes) to my company in Vancouver.
I wandered out to the main footpath, that runs the length of White Beach, and eventually found myself in the CNN Cafe. This joint features a massive flatscreen in the corner that presumably airs CNN all day long. I ordered the tropical breakfast and gobbled up the fried eggs, hard toast and mango quickly, only savouring the fresh-brewed coffee slightly more.
I explored the local area a bit and found the information centre where I bought a handful of postcards and stamps, then went over to the Alice in Wonderland Internet joint to catch up on the previous days journey. Later I would have a long nap. Then a quick swim. Then a short stroll up the beach a ways.
I met up with Per around 4pm on one of the alleys behind the busy main footpath. We made plans to meet up around 7pm for some beverages.
As the day bore on I came to like Boracay more and more, and soon I found I had forgotten my poor first impression. The place woke up nicely and soon after I arrived the boats that cluttered the bay had all set sail, leaving the deep blue and green water to the tourists.
In Manila I had been given the impression that Boracay was fully booked with American tourists. In reality Germans, Swiss, French and Scandinavians make up the bulk of the foreigners. Unlike Ko Samui and Ko Phi Phi (in 'low season'), Boracay (in 'high season') was not overflowing with tourists. With vacancies in many of the resorts there are a comfortable number of us here.

Around 6:30 I wandered over to Trafalgar and found Per. We waited for James, the brit that Per had met up north in Banaue, and after an introduction we set off to find food and drinks. I wasn't terribly hungry so just enjoyed a cold beer while the two others took advantage of a 180p buffet dinner featuring a roasted pig and local seafood. After a few of the 35p beers we set off up the beach to find a place to chill out. Walking up the foot path at night was remarkably beautiful. In the day it is cluttered with stands selling handmade necklaces and jewellry; at night candles burn atop short bamboo poles and christmas lights decorate most shop fronts. Most restaurants host either mellow live music or a relaxing mix of Cafe-Del-Mar style rhythms. Virtually everyone is in a great mood, wandering around barefoot with sandals in hand, taking it all in. We end up at a Thai restaurant/bar where James seems to know the bartender, a filipino with a british accent. Here we enjoy some really great music (called "savoury core nation" by the friendly barkeep, but upon showing us the cd we found it was actually Thievery Corporation) and good company.
Later we wandered waaaaay up the beach to Cocomangas, one of the more popular night spots on the island. (but not before a pit stop at the bathroom) As the footpath diverged more inland we took to the beach, passing candle-lit sandcastles where local children collected donations for their hard work. These are very impressive pieces of artwork...
A few long island ice teas, a few musical requests, a couple Danish tunes, then we were off to Summer Place. This huge bar is the local hotspot, filled with lots of interesting people. I ruined a photo of the three of us by blinking, so I made the image really small so you can't tell so much... (Per is in the middle, James on the right). After a while I retired to the comfort of my bungalow, where I quickly fell asleep.