We went for sailing last weekend. Because of the long weekend all places in Puerto Galera were fully booked. So we booked a place in White Beach. 

White Beach

Christmas and New Year 2003/2004 we stayed the last time on White Beach, Puerto Galera, in a resort called Marco Vincent. The resort was new and as Miriam remembered it, grazing cows could be seen when looking out of the window of our room. White Beach was far less busy than the beaches around Puerto Galera, with a very wide sandy beach, a beach walk, mostly single story resorts and restaurants a round, spacey beach bar at around halfway of the beach. There was quite a bit of vegetation. At the eastern end there was the only dive shop, at the western end a western/country style bar/restaurant with a live stage, usually hosting a band playing blues or classic rock. It was the place where backpackers and the local youth went to, and generally a lot more affordable – and basic- than the other beaches. Not really so much our thing, but we enjoyed the time there relaxing after just having arrived in the Philippines a month ago with not much else to do.

Last weekend we went back for two nights because similar to back then, we were late in booking a place in Puerto Galera for a three day long weekend. We went because we wanted to do a bit of sailing on Magayon II, together with a friend from IRRI. But late booking was where the similarities ended.

Our very helpful yacht club manager had managed to get us a booking in a small resort in the 1 star category, close to Marco Vincent. The resort was fine, fitting our purpose with a very friendly family running it.

But there were no cows anymore. Everything in the surroundings is now covered in concrete. Resorts, roads, walls etc.

We took a stroll to the beach for dinner on a number of narrow footpaths, all in between high concrete structures. It appeared to be quite crowded with many beachgoers on their swim suites and  uv protection shirts flocking back to their accommodation. Then we hit the beach. It was baffling. Thousands of people on the beach. The low raise buildings all gone, two or more level concrete structures, functional but ugly, had replaced them. The beach seems to be narrower, and extremely loud popular music came from multiple sources competing for attention of the mostly young crowd.  The water was full with jet skis, motor boats and all sort of plastic  floats, which were used to drag fun seeking juniors at high speed over the water. For whatever purpose, the thrill of potentially falling off and being run over by a jet ski maybe. They even had a jetski mounted to jets that you can stand on and that then lifts you out of the water, another silly german invention, in the same category of useless things as techno music – as far as i am concerned.

Almost each restaurant at the beachfront had one or more fire dancers on its stretch of the beach, each doing more or less the same thing. All had adapted to the ongoing selfie epidemic and were posing with beach goers to help them fulfil their narcissistic desires. It felt a bit like shopping streets in Chinatown in Manila, where each and every shop offered the same product – one street for car tires, one for electric cables and one for fire extinguishers – the beach of the fire dancers. I wondered what the attraction would be on the next beach? All human robots? The little blues bar was still there. So I thought maybe we would get dinner in an atmosphere that I appreciate. The first day they did not have a single guest. The second day two. They still had the stage, and did sound checks. Maybe they are protected as cultural heritage and can not be torn down, there is no way that they can break even.

Deja vu. The Underground River experience.  I think we need to go to Europe these days to find quiet, pleasant places with nice scenery.

Read related  Reuters Article “Southeast Asia’s idyllic islands buckle under tourism strain”