Early May this year, we sped along that long drive from Calamba Laguna to Dalahican Port in Lucena intensely hoping to catch the 10:30 pm RoRo trip towards that heart-shaped island trivially known to be the center of the Philippines. We were six in the group, all in hurry running late. Unfortunately, dust of devils seemed to swirl around our way as we rode that hopeless bus fingers-crossed to catch the last trip. And in an instant, there they were – the anger, paranoia, heartbreak, and bitterness that raced against each other as we’re welcomed with such a bad news: we didn’t make it. Instead, we ended up waiting for the first trip to come later at around 4 am the following day. Right then, two of my main expectations were dispelled. One, that my first long ride across the sea will memorably be a good one, and two, that I may have my much-needed sleep at that time. Obviously, I haven’t had a nice sleep the whole time and aboard. It was a painstaking wait compounded by the delayed voyage and the long drift itself. But the good heavens soon presented the first wave of surprise with the breathtaking sunrise right before our eyes. And the skies were blanketed by a bloody rosy blend that slowly broke into positively uplifting hues suggesting a good day ahead. And good day it was.
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