Flying Solo in the Philippines

There wasn't a single moment during our trip around the world when I wished I'd been travelling alone. The idea terrified me and yet it's that very feeling which enticed me to try. If there's one thing which travel has taught me, it's that life begins outside of your comfort zone and so rather than flying home with the girls, I waved them goodbye and prepared myself for a short solo stint in the Philippines. 

I have to admit, however, that my enthusiasm had wained from the point of booking this trip to the point of actually boarding the plane to Borocay. Having just spent the most amazing ten days with some of my best friends, I had to question the likelihood of this second phase living up to it.  

Energy levels dropped further after a close to twenty four hour journey and by the time I set foot onto the island, I was exhausted. There were dozens of potential people to meet at the hostel bar but I couldn't even contemplate making conversation. 

Escaping the backpacker madness I instead wandered down to the beach to watch the sunset. It was here everything changed. As the sky began to turn pink, I thought about my friend Hatti and quickly remembered two things. Firstly, I'm never truly alone and secondly, make the most of every moment. What would Hatti do if she were here on a paradise island in the Philippines with four full days ahead of her? I as good as heard her voice in my head as the sun disappeared behind the horizon: 'Suck it up Chiara, go and socialise.'

And from that moment on I was never alone. Admittedly I was surrounded by strangers at first but it's surprising how quickly they turn to acquaintances, and later to friends. Back at the room, a girl named Vicky had moved into the bed next to me and we soon found we had a lot in common; she's from Surrey, studied English Lit, loves to write and obviously loves to travel. There were at least four reasons right there why we should go and get dinner together. 

On our way down, we got talking to a group of Irish medics and they joined us too. Whilst Vicky and I had just arrived, the Irish clan had been there four nights already and so promised to take us to the best bars later on. I still wasn't feeling up for a massive night but nevertheless had a couple of rum and cokes out on the balcony with our now significantly larger group. I don't remember consciously making the decision to go to the beach but it turns out a couple is all it took (I later learnt the rum out here is 80%!) 

With the sand between our toes we danced for hours at various bars along the beach. When it started to monsoon, we took cover in a club and Grace and I somehow ended up in a VIP room at a table with a load of Malaysians. It was hardly the West End but it was pretty cool. Once the rum started to taste like sambuca, I took myself home. 

The intense heat and sunshine glaring into our dorm room burnt out any signs of a hangover. Vicky and I were both up and at the beach by eight o'clock, working up a tan. Given the time and the unreal scene in front of me, it would've been reasonable to assume that I was still dreaming. It was the first time I'd seen it in full daylight and I just couldn't believe how perfect it was. Through the shadows of the palms trees which line the coast, the shallow water glows fluorescent turquoise, blending to a royal blue as the seabed suddenly drops and the beach itself (aptly named White Beach) boasts the finest white sand I've seen outside of the Caribbean.

The pristine condition is quite remarkable considering the vast number of people who come here to enjoy them. Borocay is undeniably very touristy and plays far too well to Western culture. You can quite literally stare out into the horizon and feel fully immersed in a paradise island, but turn back around inland and find you're on the doorstep of a Starbucks. I was both shocked and disappointed come lunchtime when I struggled to find a single authentic Philippino dish on the menu of any restaurant in close vicinity to White Beach. 

Luckily, a few people had recommended Puka Shell Beach as being far quieter and more authentic. Therefore, in the afternoon I hopped on a trike (a glorified tuk tuk) to see it for myself. Vicky had booked a massage but I met the Irish clan there and we stayed until sunset, watching the sky transform this time from the comfort of the warm shallow waters. 

When I arrived back, we had another new addition; a girl called Sharon who's been living in Singapore and is soon to move to New Zealand - definitely my kind of girl. We instantly got on and she joined Vicky and I for dinner at a back street restaurant where I had my first proper taste of Philippino food. It's not a touch on Thai or Malaysian, but it was still delicious and half the price of the burgers and pizzas they're serving up at the beach. 

The Irish were on it again but the three of us, slightly older and less accustomed to drinking until we drop, called it a day. Not that we got much rest. The room was so hot and without the aid of air conditioning or 80% rum, it was impossible to sleep. I counted mosquitos for most of the night and was up and out again by sunrise. 

After another full day of sunning ourselves and sipping coconut water on Puka beach, we needed a change of scenery. We’d heard whispers at the hostel of a bar on the peninsular which is a great place to watch the sunset. 

Spider House lived up to the hype. Built on wooden stilts, this bar hovers above the water and gives the perfect view of the endless horizon. It was whilst we were on our third or fourth round of cocktails that we realised we were surrounded by familiar faces. Everyone at the bar was a fellow guest at our hostel and so we soon joined forces and spent the evening together, which culminated with a game of ‘How many Frendz kids can we fit on a trike?’ (Answer: Seven.)

Though I’d had the most amazing time at the hostel, I was yearning for a quiet night in a nice hotel before facing the long journey home. With the luxury of living on a non-backpacker budget, I waved goodbye to the girls and checked myself into a fancy place up on the hill. As my bag disappeared from my shoulders to a porter’s and I was welcomed in with a fresh drink and flower garland, I was rather pleased with my decision. The hardest choice I now had to make was between the big double bed in my air-con room, or the cushioned deckchairs by the beautiful infinity pool. Bliss. 

My final day disappeared with the sun but it did not slip away discreetly. From the poolside I watched in complete awe as the entire sky came alive, alight with oranges and pinks so fiercely bright that I can make no comparison. That image will stay with me forever. 

Not one to be outdone, I attempted an exit as spectacular as the sunset. Overnight my skin took on a fluorescent tone and when I woke I was quite literally glowing. Heat stroke struck me hard and back in the UK I added dengue fever to it too. It wasn’t the best of souvenirs to take away from my beloved Asia but I’m thankful to have a wealth of memories to add to it too. 

Travelling alone was certainly an experience and one which I'd comfortably repeat again if thrown into the situation. However, given the choice, I'd still prefer to holiday with my friends. Whilst I met some truly awesome people who I'd perhaps not have spent time with otherwise, they're now all back on different sides of the world out of reach to reminisce with. One of the best parts of travelling for me is reliving the memories afterwards but moments such as falling off the balcony and launching an island wide search party for Vicky's shoes were all 'had to be there' scenarios and nobody around me was. For this trip, I'll just have to laugh along to myself and accept the insane looks but for my next trip, I'm dragging Hana back along with me.