Return to Manila Hotel's Cafe Ilang-Ilang: The Past in the Present

Manila Hotel's grand lobby never fails to inspire.

Whenever my mother goes to Manila Hotel, she is transformed.  Her inner little girl shines through. She is always transported to her first time through the hotel's awesome doors, way back in the 1950's, when her father brought her there for bibingka.  And so she loves bibingka, and wherever she eats it, she is reminded of Manila Hotel. Bibingka is one of the best pasalubongs to give her. But if you really want to make her happy, you take her to Manila Hotel and let her have her bibingka there. 

Early last week, we had the chance to do just that. Oliver was leaving for Austria a couple of days before his birthday.  Before he left, we had a little despedida dinner, an intimate one with my parents and our kids. 4 adults, 3 generations, 2 kids, 1 hotel = a perfect 10 of a night!  The magic began as soon as we took our first few steps on the main lobby's magnificent marble floors.

3-year old Narra took this photo of the ceiling.

"It's like Beauty and the Beast!', said my daughter Narra, who's seeing the hotel for the first time. She was in awe.  She bent backwards, with her head tilted skyward, her eyes wide open as she took in the massive chandeliers.  A second later, she was twirling. A dance-inducing waltz from an ensemble of lovely violinists in green gowns was accompanying my daughter's movements. I suppressed a smile. I knew if my mother was less of a well-mannered lady, and more of a free-spirited hippie, she'd be dancing with my daughter too.  She tried to walk as normally as possible, but there was a subtle bounce in her step, and her face registered a bubbly countenance.  She was floating down the lobby.  There are many beautiful and awesome hotels elsewhere. But none of the newer ones, no matter how grand in design and elevated in stature, could offer the one thing Manila Hotel has that gives it an edge: history.  No other hotel would turn my mother into a little girl, because there was only one "first" hotel her father took her to.  Which is why when I turned 18, she threw me a debut party here, as much for my benefit, as for hers. She wasn't just giving me a party, she was drawing deeply from her inner reservoir of happiness, and grafting my milestones into her timeline - and her milestones into mine. The umbilical cord cut at birth, is restored in spirit, through memories recounted, and decades-old-daydreams made real, and "re-corded" in one continuous family history.  Today, we link the next generation to the chain, as we introduce our children to this glorious institution.

The striking backlit wall at the Cafe's entrance.

We made our way to the far end of the hotel, towards the back, in the direction of the pool.  The location is familiar, but the sight that greeted us is completely different.  Oliver and I visited the newly renovated Cafe Ilang-Ilang last year and vowed to return with family - I told him then, that my mom had to see the cafe's latest reincarnation.  When my mom saw the interiors, I imagined multiple memories being triggered in her head, of what the place looked like: in the 1950's with her dad; 1970's with my dad; 1980's with her balikbayan siblings returning home to see what's become of the country they left behind; early-to-mid 1990's for grand parties in the time of Manila's economic boom before the 1997 financial crisis; and now, in the 2010s, with her grandchildren.  I too, am taking it all in, committing images to memory, wondering what transformations I'd see by the time it's my turn to go there with my grandchildren.

The desert station, by the entryway.

Upon entering, the first food station that comes into full view is the dessert section with a dramatic backdrop of a curved wall that stretches from floor to ceiling, creating a cavern-like canopy. Chocolates and cake, candies and custards, fruits and ice cream - it's a feel-good moment, laying eyes on that island of joy.  Next to it is a function room for intimate parties, splendidly ensconced in an alcove created by steel-framed glass panel partitions. I thought it looked quite impressive, and not as "aquarium"-like as glass-partitioned rooms go.  It was cleverly concealed and displayed at the same time.

A function room under the curved ceiling.

Off to the left, down a spacious aisle, is the Italian section, complete with a brick oven, and a fun display - a "leaning tower of pasta".  The thin-crust pizzas fresh off the oven are so good, especially the four-cheese pizza. On the counter was one wonderful wheel of parmesan cheese waiting to be scraped.  Yum. There were other stations located in great distances throughout the sprawling space. Truth be told, I couldn't really find my bearings.  I almost needed a map! When Oliver recommended the bird's nest soup, my dad took a while looking for it!  Like a driver asking for directions, he asked chefs and waiters for signposts to find the soup.  We nearly missed the Japanese section which was almost hidden from view in a far corner.  If it hadn't been for a kid carrying a plateful of tempura walking past us, we wouldn't have suspected its existence.  What Cafe Ilang-Ilang enjoys in terms of space, it lacks in terms of focal points and logical flow.  Or maybe it was the "central" location of our seats that caused the problem.  Being at the center didn't mean having access to everything - rather, it felt like entering a movie theater in the middle of the story - equally far from the beginning and the end - and we needed to do a bit of backtracking.  I ended up having my cake before my sushi - which I did not appreciate at all. 

The brick oven in the Italian station.

And for my mom, it was the bibingka that she found last.  She already had her concluding sip of coffee, by the time she discovered that the bibingka was not in the Filipino section, but behind the Chocolate fountain, across the refrigerated custards.  She was torn, between a sensible desire to stop eating because she's full, and a senseless desire to perform her Manila Hotel ritual.  In the end, she came to her senses, and let her bibingka moment go.  She was happy. Even without it.

Guijo giving life to the phrase "bundle of joy"!

All of us were happy, even the kids! Narra, the picky-eater, had fun consuming her picks for the night. While Guijo, who just cut his first tooth, is proving to be a "super-sulit" buffet companion. He loves to try new tastes and textures, with his eyes widening or squinting appropriately, depending on what he's sampling. What a joy it is to watch him eating with gusto.  

We left Cafe Ilang-Ilang, completely satiated body and soul.  We took our time walking out of the hotel, admiring the artwork, interiors, and architecture of this grand, old landmark.  Leaving the lobby, we were all smiles, except for Guijo, who was already sleeping soundly in his stroller.  My mom kept thanking Oliver profusely, for taking us to dinner here, in her special place. One last group pic, then we were out of there. We have a new memory to add to our collection of Manila Hotel moments.

On Getting A Benji Reyes Chair For Oliver's Birthday

Our "Rajah" with Narra seat, Guijo backrest, Balayong armrest, Molave crown.

It isn't just any chair. It is our family's beginnings beautifully rendered in wood by the artist Benji Reyes, who kindly obliged my request for customized wood for his classic Rajah design.  Its seat is made of Narra, its back rest, of Guijo.  

These kinds of wood, of course, are the species of Philippine hardwood after which our children are named.  Literally and figuratively: Narra's supporting our weight, and Guijo's got our back. When I see Oliver sitting on this chair, I feel my throat tightening, as though I want to cry. I want him to rest his weary body on it, to lean on it completely, as he'd lean on his family during trying times, especially on Narra and Guijo. After all, don't parents lean on their children - for daily doses of hope and inspiration necessary for our sanity, and sometimes, even survival?  I've seen Oliver plunge to the depths of depression when he lost loved ones, and I felt helpless as I watched from the side.  I wanted to find a way to give him a lifeline, something to hold on to, something solid, and as effective - though less fleeting - than our children's life-giving laughter. This chair, no, it is not just a chair.  It is our lifeline. His and mine. Something to touch, and grab, when the world is reeling, and we need to sit for moment until the spinning stops and everything comes back into focus.  For those kinds of moments, one needs a really good chair, that supports not just one's weight, but one's spirit.

10-month old Guijo, admiring the arm rest made of Balayong.

This chair is like a trophy for me, an impossible purchase I shouldn't have been able to afford given the fact that I was out of a job when I bought it.  But the universe conspires to give us our heart's desire, and out of nowhere, I won a Prize for my thesis, the Wang Gung Wu Prize for Best Thesis, and with the cash award, I wanted an inspired purchase, one that would last my lifetime - and even beyond.  I wanted to get Oliver a birthday gift he would really like, and what art collector wouldn't be happy with a Benji Reyes piece?  But I wanted something more personal than a piece purchased from a gallery - I hoped that our family's story would be crafted into the making of our specific chair - and celestial forces were again kind to me, allowing me to catch the busy artist at a time when he could accommodate my requests for specific kinds of wood to be used. Of course, Narra and Guijo were the first types of wood I requested. Followed by Balayong, which is the "signature" wood used extensively in our current home in Pasay.  We used the reddish wood everywhere, for our stairs and shelves, ledges and benches, ladders and drawers, cupboards and frames.  Benji Reyes made the armrests of the chair with Balayong, and I was overjoyed when I saw how well the hues of the wood used on our new chair blended with the existing wood elements in our house.  It looked like it belonged to the house, like it's always been here all along. It simply fit in, beautifully.

The hues of the wood used for our Rajah chair blends well with our existing wood trims.

The chair has a crown made of Molave, another species of wood I requested for. At our wedding, Oliver and I chose Molave seedlings as souvenirs for our guests. We planted our Molave tree on the lawn of our first home, a symbol of our decision to root ourselves on Philippine soil after years spent abroad.  This brings to mind lines from the famous patriotic poem "Like the Molave", and the qualities I wish for our marriage, enumerated thus:

"Like the Molave,  firm, resilient, staunch,

rising on the hillside, unafraid,

Strong in its own fiber, yes, like the Molave!"

This chair, it is strong and robust - but not rigid, oh no, not at all! Sitting on it, one feels a contradiction!  It feels like sitting on a rock-solid surface on one hand - but at the same time like sitting on air too! It's seat and armrests offer stability, while the back - oh my! the back rest of this chair - it is where the woodworker as artist and engineer is best able to show off his genius!  Benji Reyes borrowed principles of the bow, so the backrest flexes according to the person's weight.  The back rest appears to be floating, because it is unattached to the armrests. The result, is a pleasantly empowering sensation: one gets to lean back - but not in a granny-in-a-rocking-chair-way; rather, one leans back in a "Rajah-viewing-his-kingdom-taking-stock-of-his-victories" kind-of-way.  For sure, I can relax on this chair, without wanting to sleep.  It's no recliner nor lounge chair. It's a Rajah. Proud, strong, upright, stately, active, and empowered. But it gives a little, it flexes, it bends backwards, it offers a gentle and subtle accommodation. And this dynamic I get from this chair - between firmness and flexibility - is what I hope for in our marriage, and parenting.  I wish our family life can have a solid construction, based on sound principles we can live by firmly - but at the same time, I want it to be a somewhat soft home, a nurturing one, where kindness and tenderness governs our dealings with each other, and a certain degree of flexibility allows us to make room for each other's quirks.

Oliver, receiving the Certificate of Authenticity.
He asks jokingly:  "Is there an actual chair included?"

It was a few months before Oliver's birthday that I ordered the chair, and it arrived a week early! Oh, it was a stressful week. I am not good at keeping secrets, and I was so tempted to show it to him already, after all, what is a birthday? It's an arbitrary day, like any other day! But I controlled myself, and bit my lip, resisting my urge to spill the news. I hid the chair in our guest room, with the chair''s backrest behind curtains, and the seat, arms, and legs draped with carefully positioned "mounds" of linen and clothing waiting to be ironed. I feared Oliver would look for something in the guest room and discover his gift!  When we went out to dinner a day before his birthday, I casually handed him a brown envelope and said "Happy Birthday, here's my gift" (haha, he must have thought I was giving him an insurance policy for his birthday!). And out came the Certificate of Authenticity,  with a picture of the chair, its description, and the artist's signature. "May chair bang kasama ito?" (does this come with an actual chair?) he joked. 

Narra, inspecting the chair and feeling the back rest flex.

When we got home, Oliver finally unwrapped the chair, and Narra was so excited to see it at last! She'd been curious about it, making a daily pilgrimage to the guest room to pop her usual quota of bubble wrap per visit. A week of waiting heightened her anticipation.  When the chair was unveiled at last, our entire family appreciated the piece with all our senses! We looked, and touched, tapped and smelled, even tasted the wood! Guijo, being the teething baby that he is, explores the world and tries to make sense of it by putting things in his mouth, wood, included :-D  As for "hearing" wood, and "smelling" it, my mom does that. She and my dad are both passionate about Philippine hard wood, and they designed their own tables and chairs, and doors and benches for their own home. My mom was tapping and knocking on the different wood surfaces, listening to its timbre/timber! (pun intended).  The knocking and tapping was followed by some lifting, to get a sense of the piece's density, and we couldn't decide if it was heavy or light (Benji Reyes was playing tricks on our senses). Then came the sniffing.  When I put my nostrils close to the back splat, and took a whiff - oh my, it smelled fresh off the woodworker's workshop, and brought back memories of my parents' many wood projects while they were building our home. 

Oliver, admiring the Kamagong dowels.

It felt really good to get Oliver that chair. It wasn't the usual lame gift that got a tepid response. Nope!!  It was one of those really good gifts that offer something not just to the receiver, but to the giver as well. In getting him this chair, I got something back, that I needed very badly. It rekindled a desire to acquire! To want things, and to work hard to save for the things I want.  For quite some time now, I was okay, with being "just okay".  Of staying at home with my kids and celebrating little daily triumphs. But now, I want a lot more. I want to partake of quality things - of great craftsmanship, and inspired design! I want works of art - whether in food or furniture, or clothes; I want  to speak better, think better, dress better, work harder, earn more, to live fuller!  I also want to be like Benji Reyes, who gets to create something, a person who matters and has the power to touch lives with his works. I am inspired as much by the artist, as the work he produced.  So now, I want to write, and research, and fulfill the "promise" of being a scholar, which is what that Wang Gung Wu Prize was all about. With that cash Prize I made this purchase, and with this purchase I got my drive back. Funny how things work. Whatever stubborn stupor or restraining rut I was in seems to be coming to an end.  I am sitting on the Rajah chair and feeling power course through my skin.  I am glad I did not get the "Tumba-tumba" rocking chair, or even the riveting and engineering-marvel-of-a-piece called "Juan Tamad" (an impossible purchase which was way out of my budget anyway, and which the in-demand artist did not have time to produce this year).  Those chairs are for resting after I've toiled hard for years and really deserved a reward.  For now, though, at this stage in my life, when I am on the cusp of recovery, it is the Rajah that needs to be here, in this house, right now.  It is this stately chair, tall and proud, active and upright, firm but flexible... it is powerful chair that I need to see every day for my daily serving of empowerment. 

Narra and Guijo, enjoying the Rajah chair immediately upon waking up,
(and still in their sleepwear), the morning after their father's birthday.

And I will not lose sight of the fact that this chair is made of Narra ang Guijo, Molave and Balayong. These species of wood will remind me that whatever quest for self-fulfillment I embark on now, will always be in my capacity as mother and wife, and I must always find the right balance between my desire to make something out of my career, and to be there for my family. 

For Oliver's birthday, I got him a chair. It isn't just any chair, but a Benji Reyes. And that made all the difference.

Oliver's first time to sit on his Rajah chair.

My Nephew Nacho's Baptismal Celebration at His Ninong Max's

From l-r: Tetet, Ros, Auggie and Diane, Pierre and Joy, Elaine and Sophia,
Ian and Nacho, me with Guijo, Oliver with Narra

It was some 17 years ago when my cousin Ian first spied my college kabarkada Elaine at my 18th birthday party - 10 years later, they were married and had baby Sophia - and now, 7 years since welcoming their firstborn, they have their second child, Joselito Ignacio Verano Serranilla.  Last Saturday was little Nacho's baptism, and at the reception that followed, I saw the same faces from my debut - my college barkada from DLSU days invited by Elaine - and my relatives from my mother's side of the family invited by Ian.  It's raining babies, it seems to me! On our side of the family 4 of us cousins were pregnant at the same time, and in our barkada, 3 of us... I can already see it - my son Guijo and his batch mates growing up together and attending each other's birthday parties for years to come.  And Max's Restaurant seems  to be a step ahead of us, anticipating future birthdays with their "Ninong Ko si Max" program.

The emcee/host from Max, awarding Nacho's "inaanak ni Max" certificate.

At Nacho's party, the emcee/host announced the perks of the program: when a child's baptismal reception is held at Max's, the child becomes an inaanak and would receive from "Ninong Max" birthday and Christmas gifts yearly until they turn 7! At our table, we were curious about what gift the kids would receive.  It's a fun concept, having a restaurant as a ninong, it's so delightfully Pinoy!  Eating at Max's, after all, feels like eating at a close relative's house where you know your way around, and the institution has been around for so long, and is so deeply rooted in our psyche, that holding a party there for our young, feels like a passing of the torch of sorts to the next generation... It's like saying to our kids: "here anak, have a taste of fried chicken done the way Ninong Max does it".  It's not battered like Colonel Sander's Kentucky style chicken, nor crispy in the Jollibee chicken-joy way; it's not to be dunked in toyo and calamansi like chicken inasal; it's not juicy-soft like litson manok or firewood roasted like Kenny Roger's; it's not marinated yellow like Pollo Loco, or rubbed with Chinese spices like Savory's. And it's not barbecued sweet like Aristocrat's, or sweet-spicy like Bonchon's crunchy-saucy wings. "What it is, anak, is Ninong Max's own unique take, best accompanied by Jufran banana ketchup" - and isn't this little bit of advice, this little piece of cultural trivia, something every chicken-eating Pinoy-kid should know? 

The promotional poster for the "Ninong Ko Si Max" program.

The novelty of the familiar is what Max's has to offer with this "Ninong ko si Max" program.  It is novel, in that the child is elevated from the lowly status of faceless-nameless customer to the exalted category of inaanak, godchild, almost family!  It reminds me of other moments in my 1980s youth, when I became a member of programs targeted at kids, and it made something special out of the mundane: the Banco Filipino Happy Saver's Club (with a cool passbook with a Sanrio "My Little Twin Star" cover) made trips to the bank exciting! While the Susy and Geno Club (attained after mailing in the lid from a can of Sustagen) made me drink the powdered formula even if I didn't really care for the taste all that much. For a kid with a single-digit age, any form of membership mattered a great deal! So this "Ninong Ko Si Max" program triggered happy memories for me. I am happy for my nephew Nacho that he has this stake on Max's.

Our college barkada (with some hubbies and kids).

When the emcee announced that Nacho, as inaanak, would get a 15% discount for his party if he celebrated his 1st and 7th birthdays at Max's, all of us at our table - the nostalgic easy-to-please bunch that we are - all looked at each other and said "see you there!"   If Ian and Elaine do choose to celebrate again at Max's, and invite us to come, I'd look forward to another afternoon spent catching up with old friends. I'd look forward to being able to relax and to feeling right at home. Because Max's is that kind of  place where being offered familiar favorites makes a guest feel like one of the family, even if one isn't officially an inaanak of Ninong Max.

Happy Christening Nacho!

Boracay Diary 2: Family-Friendly Fun at Two Seasons

Two Seasons' Beach Front Signage

Sunny and rainy. That was the weather we got in Boracay, and it was just lovely. And our hotel, so aptly named Two Seasons, was thoughtfully designed to offer an enjoyable stay in both conditions, wet and dry. Our cousins Thunder and Rakel invited us to join them at their hotel in Boracay, and we said yes! in a heartbeat. They were traveling with their children: tweeners Bianca and Alec, and their 1-year old Marco.  And we brought 3-year old Narra and 9-month old Guijo with us. With 5 kids in our party, we needed a family-friendly place, and Two Seasons did not disappoint!

Two Seasons' beach front 

The location was just oh-so-convenient, right on the beach, situated on a quiet spot on the stretch between the isolated end of Station 1, and the busy scene of Station 2.  This part of the beach has the perfect balance of relative seclusion and moderate activity - there are enough people, but not too much. The hotel's beachfront cabanas and parasols over lounge chairs offered shade in the sun, and cover from the rain. We had easy refuge for our babies and bags when things got too hot, or too wet.

Our favorites: Four-cheese and pepperoni pizzas from the hotel's Bar Lo

The hotel's restaurant, Bar Lo, served food and drinks right on the beach, and we found ourselves ordering their yummy pizzas repeatedly.  The four-cheese and pepperoni pizzas became our daytime staple food. Fuss free to eat, and flavorful, they became our favorite for good reason.  The crispy thin crust, generous amounts of cheese, and just the right amount of spice, pleased both kids and adults alike. 

One section of the breakfast buffet

Bar Lo's daily breakfast buffet spread was also quite nice.  It was compact enough to be manageable,  but had enough variety to offer.  For Guijo, I'd start his meal with a bowl of congee with some mashed bits of chicken, followed by fruit, with some cereal, and juice!  I'd sit him on his high chair, and give him a cracker to munch on, while I went to get Narra food. Her favorite was the omelette station, where she got to request for her eggs, one day sunny-side up, the next day scrambled, with bits of cheese and lots of bacon.  And on the few occasions when it happened to rain during  meal times, we decided to order in and take our meals indoors, which proved to be so comfortable because we had such well appointed rooms.

Pool view from our room's dining table

Our rooms! The most family-friendly feature of all!  We stayed in a Family Suite with pool access - which was huge and just a couple of steps away from the pool.  Thunder's family stayed in the Grand Family Suite two doors away which was even bigger, and had a door that opened up directly to the pool, making it literally a step away.  Narra loved that pool - I liked how it was a multi-level pool, with ledges and strategically located steps and inclines, that could accommodate swimmers of various height ranges, allowing them to stay together, despite being in different depths. My niece Bianca was an underwater hockey swimmer (I did not know there was such a thing as underwater hockey until she told me about it), and she needed a fairly deep pool to execute her fancy swimming tricks. So there she was, flipping, and tumbling, and doing her dolphin dives, while playing with Narra, who was stationed safely on her own little ledge with knee-deep water.  What a cleverly designed pool! Delightfully small, with an efficient lay-out, for maximum enjoyment.  One end of the pool had a sloping floor, which allowed even Guijo, my tiny little boy, to soak and wade in baby-friendly depths.

Our family suite right by the pool

It was an added bonus that I could stay indoors and still watch Narra through the glass walls of our room - or should I say rooms!  I was always on call to take Narra to the bathroom when she needed to go pee-pee - toilet training continues even in paradise, after all.  Too bad our nanny wasn't there to lend a helping hand. There was an extra room in the suite, which would have been assigned to Yaya Ruby - had she shown up! Oh dear, we bought Yaya Ruby a plane ticket, but she was a no-show in Boracay (I will need another blog post for this sad story).  We had an empty room in our hands, which went to good use in the end, because it had its own tv and dvd player, and Narra borrowed a bunch of movies from the front desk - and she had a Disney Princess movie marathon in "her" own room, while Oliver and I watched the exciting conclusion of Chief Justice Corona's impeachment drama.  I loved that Two Seasons had a sizable movie collection to choose from - it made rainy moments less gloomy, and allowed our entire family some quality snuggling time under their luxurious duvets.

The multi-level pool with ledges, steps, and inclines for various depths

And the service from the staff was just impeccable! Everyone was efficient and friendly, and kind to my kids.  From the restaurant staff who brought Guijo his high-chair each meal time, to the guards and bell boys who carried our stroller and held umbrellas for us - to the friendly front-desk folk. I have only good things to say about our hotel stay.  And even when our stay ended - and we were whisked away and loaded on the hotels boat and van - even then, to the last minute, they saw to it that we were comfortable despite the rain.  

Our last dip in the pool, Narra and  Guijo felt right at home in the water.

When we left the pool for the last time and I told Narra we had to go home, she petulantly replied "can't we live here?"... and that, I feel is the ultimate compliment straight from the mouth of babes. If a hotel's goal is to make guests feel at home, then this hotel met their objective. Two thumbs up for Two Seasons!

For more info on Two Seasons Boracay visit their official website:

http://www.twoseasonsresorts.com/

Related Posts:

Boracay Diary 1: To and From Boracay, In Transit With Tots in Tow

http://nikki-mama.blogspot.com/2012/06/boracay-diary-part-1-to-and-from.html

post script: We ended up missing our flight on the 31st and had to stay an extra day. With all our bags packed, we could have gone anywhere - to try out a new resort. But guess where we stayed? Still, Two Seasons!

Boracay Diary Part 1: To and From Boracay, in Transit With Tots in Tow

May 29th - 8:30 am, checking in for our flight to Caticlan.

Traveling with kids can be one tiring exercise, especially when they are so young and dependent on their parents for everything.  One would wonder what would possess parents to voluntarily subject themselves to the torture of carrying their kids to the beach - and not just some nearby beach - but one on an island that can be reached only after going through air, boat, and land transfers.  Oliver and I did just that a few days ago when we took Narra and Guijo with us to Boracay for a few days of baby-sitting in paradise. There were many things that went wrong on this Boracay trip (but that's for a different blog post on another day), but our precious children: Narra our impish little ingenue, and Guijo the godsend, my darling little boy; on many occasions throughout the trip, oh how they worked their magic to diffuse tension. In the end, our airport, boat, and land transfers, to and from our hotel in Boracay ended up being enjoyable because our kids were there!  

We started with a fuss-free check-in at NAIA Terminal 3.  We took a Cebu Pacific mid-morning flight to Caticlan. There was a short line (yay!) at the check-in counter. I had prepared in advance all the required documents for verifying our identities: Narra and Guijo's birth certificates, our valid IDs (Oliver's and mine), and our marriage certificate, and that made the process fast and easy. We checked in our one piece of luggage, then made our way through the security checks. The kids were wide awake and excited. They knew something was up. Oliver carried Guijo, while I pushed Narra's stroller.

Guijo, riding our 1-pc. luggage for check-in; and Narra on her stroller.

Deciding to bring the stroller was the best decision ever! You may be wondering, who brings a stroller to the beach?? But there were many other parents wheeling their young kids in Boracay. Parents may not be able to steer most strollers on the beach itself (unless you have the fancy all-terrain, super expensive kind) but it's quite indispensable getting them there.  The long walks at the airport, from the check-in counter to the boarding gates - and from the boarding gate to the plane - are made much easier with a stroller, which carries not only our toddler, but also a few other bags as well. And once we've landed, I like strapping Narra onto her stroller as we wait for our bags, so I'm sure she's not running around while I keep an eye on the conveyor belt. Narra's gotten heavy, and she takes frequent naps, so the stroller went to good use a lot during the trip.

Sleeping in heavenly peace as we rode the skies.

Speaking of sleep, I couldn't thank the heavens enough, for sending my kids to "snoozeville" at the most opportune times. On the plane, for instance, after the initial excitement over our plane's take-off, our kids were knocked out, and ended up sleeping throughout the flight. What bliss!!! I feared all sorts of things: a tantrum from Narra - coupled with inconsolable crying from Guijo.  But what we got instead, was this: blissful, peaceful silence all throughout the flight.  They woke up at the right time too, right when we were about to land.  I pointed out to Narra, through the window, the lovely strip of beach visible from above. 

Narra and Guijo's first tricycle ride! From the airport to the port.

Once we landed in Caticlan, we got our bags in a flash and took a tricycle to from the airport to the port (the cost was P120 per person - including tricycle and boat fare - kids get to travel for free).  It was Narra's first time to ride a tricycle and she was thrilled to have the wind on her face!  She excitedly pointed at a few cows, and hens, and bahay kubos we saw along the way. Once at the port, we had to pay the environmental charges and terminal fees, then we were ferried off to Boracay at last (kids 5 years old and below are exempted from fees as well).  

All throughout our transfers, there were many porters helping us with our bags and babies. Narra got lifted off the plane, and onto a tricycle - off the tricycle and onto a boat, off a boat and onto a tricycle again...and so on, and she got used to being carried by friendly strangers who all seemed to be very used to children. The vibe is just so relaxed - there's a pervasive island feel that turns off one's "rush mode" especially when one had just arrived.  It's sheer magic, how we succumbed, in an instant, to Boracay's touch. It is as though we all swallowed our chill pills and the effect on our minds, bodies, and spirits, took effect immediately. Guijo, most of all, exuded this cool aura... what a relaxed dude! I couldn't get over how cool he is... so calm, and collected - and not at all fidgety. I think he overdosed on happy hormones while gestating in my womb.

On Two Season's boat, being ferried from Boracay to Caticlan.

We did not book transfers on our way to our hotel, Two Seasons, but we made it there fast and cheaply too. On our way back to Manila, however, it was raining, so we decided not to take the tricycle and regular public ferry, and instead to book all our transfers via our hotel (P700/pax for 2 adults - kids traveled free - the fare includes land and boat transfers and all environmental and terminal fees). We took the hotel's air-conditioned van (or multicab) which offered comfort and protection from the rain - then we were dropped off to an alternate dock near Boracay's main port, where the hotel's private boat waited for us. We were the only passengers there. We were ferried off to the Visitor's Welcome Center of Fairways and Bluewater. Our hotel was a member-hotel so they had access to the facilities, like the private jetty, and well-appointed reception building with ample seating areas and a covered driveway.  Our hotel van was there, waiting to take us to the airport.  The trip out of Boracay island, despite the rain and high waves, was well-organized, convenient, and comfortable! I am quite glad we booked our transfer with our hotel.

Leaving Boracay on a rainy day.  Staying dry inside Two Season's boat.

Once we got to Godofredo P. Ramos airport in Caticlan, we received the annoying news that our flight was delayed :-(  When the Cebu Pacific attendant handed us our boarding passes, we were given the standard spiel "please expect delays or cancellation due to bad weather" - yikes! No one wants to hear those words really.  At some point, Oliver was getting frustrated. He was looking at the flight schedules and pointing out how other flights originally scheduled after our flight were leaving before us! We were waiting for a good three hours already. We could have spent our sweet time at our hotel instead of checking out early!  I couldn't get frustrated too much though....Guijo was too charming to allow us to stay angry for too long.  Narra was asleep, and Guijo was wide awake and in a super sociable mode. Oh my, he smiled, giggled, and squealed at everyone! The guards and janitors; the salesgirls at the foodstalls; the passengers and flight attendants. So many people took pictures of him, or patted his head, or asked us how old he was.  He was disarming, and offered comic relief. Even the most frustrated stranded travelers seated behind us soon calmed down and cheered up after being subjected to Guijo's toothless grins.

Delayed flight in Caticlan: Oliver: annoyed. Narra: sleeping. Guijo: happy.

The hours we spent waiting for our delayed flight at Caticlan's tiny little airport weren't too horrible, really. In fact, it triggered happy memories of other memorable delayed flights I've had with family and friends in previous years, like when our Northwest flight from the US was delayed and we missed our connecting flight back to Manila and ended up having to spend the night in Japan as a result - oh how happy my family was to be given such a rare gift! We considered it as a free trip! And then there was the time our Singapore airlines flight in Cape Town was grounded due to engine trouble, and our entire debate team had to spend 2 extra days in South Africa as a result!  Enjoying your waiting time, and getting the chance to spend it with your loved ones, is part of the art of traveling.  I wanted to go through the motions of air, land, and sea transfers with my kids very early on so that they will be accustomed to the sequence, rhythm, and choreography of traveling. I want them to grow up knowing how to travel well, to be equipped with the right kind of skills that will let them enjoy the good moments and not get caught up on the many little pains along the way (like rain and flight delays - or missing our flight!). 

Father and son bonding at the airport. Waiting time well spent.

On this, our first trip as a family, I was oh so thankful that our kids were around to diffuse tension between Oliver and me. You see, I made a major blunder (let's just say we missed our flight and had to book a new one because I made a mistake with our plane ticket! Darn it! I am so mad at myself!)  I do believe if it was just Oliver and I, alone on this trip, we would have gotten into a heated argument already, and let our anger escalate.  But with our kids present, we restrained ourselves, and behaved towards each other better... and managed to stay smiling.... for them, and because of them.  Narra's witty wisecracks and funny faces; and Guijo's effervescence - they are enough to make us forget all ill feelings.  They relieve us from our pains, and erase our doubts, and fill us with purpose.  The whole trip has meaning, because they are with us.  Oliver travels far too much on business trips, and the last thing he needs is more time spent in airports, waiting! But this is different, because now, he travels with his hungry and pooping kids, whom he has to carry, and feed, and bathe even when he's tired and just aching for a massage on the beach.  And as he puts in the time, energy, and effort in caring for them - he becomes more and more their father, not just in blood and name - but in deed; as I too, reaffirm my being their mother, each time I wipe them clean off their filth, and wash their bottles, and wring their swimwear dry, and patiently put to words what they see with their eyes so they can make sense of the world. As we all put in the time and effort to be together - we become even more of a family, establishing the kind of dynamics that will govern our lifelong relationship.

A happy take-off, and precious bonding time between father and son.

So that is why we go through the trouble of traveling with our tots to places we've already seen. We make the effort to show them the world as we know it, to make the journey with them, the joys and pains included - so that in the process, they will come to know us, and we will come to know them better.  Travel makes for the best kind of memories - the special ones that have the power to stand out and last very, very long.  So we start our kids young, hoping the early imprinting will last a lifetime. I say this from experience, because travel was my parents' own expression of love, and all our childhood trips were journeys of discovery, not only of the world, but of each other. And this process of discovery, of the world, and of family, is worth the effort... and worth the trip.  

My father, a pilot, flew a small plane and took us to Boracay in the early 1990s, then we revisited Boracay a decade later, as a family, right before I got married; then Oliver and I returned on our honeymoon; and now we come back, as parents, with our kids! We continue the pilgrimage to paradise, tiring though the trip may be.

Related posts:
Boracay Diary 2: Family-Friendly Fun at Two Seasons Boracay
http://nikki-mama.blogspot.com/2012/06/boracay-diary-2-family-friendly-fun-at.html