IT'S no Boracay, for sure. The white sand on its beach is not as powdery as that on its world-renowned Aklan neighbor. But neither does it have Boracay's swarm of tourists -- local and foreign -- parading on the strip.
And this is where Aglicay's charm lies.
Aglicay beach resort in the sleepy town of Alcantara on Tablas Island, Romblon, is the answer to the harried office worker's search for serenity and the tourist's hankering for something different.
Sheltered by a hill, it is a very private place, with no visible signs of habitation nearby except for the resort's bungalow-style duplexes. Fishermen don't venture near, the fishing area being quite a distance away.
For company, the only ones you will likely meet are the resort's few guests (if you're lucky, you might even have the entire place to yourself), its few employees, and the owners, Guillermo (Willie) and Glenda Martinez.
There are also Julius and Hubie, the ideal companions for someone who wants to get away from it all, even if only temporarily.
Julius is a German Shepherd who takes pleasure in tearing the husk off a coconut with his teeth and paws. He's a good swimmer, and will look at you with his mournful eyes, pleading for you to take him for a swim.
A word of caution: This 50-kg purebred canine has no idea of his strength and can knock you down in his excitement. Like most dogs, he loves playing fetch, whether on shore or in the water.
Hubie is a talkative yellow-nape Amazon parrot. He belongs to a now endangered species but was acquired by Glenda 20 years ago in the United States as a gift for Willie.
The Martinezes had to endure much bureaucratic annoyance just so they could bring Hubie with them to the Philippines when they retired in 1999. But the hassle was worth it, they say. It's hard not to love this bird who sounds so human.
You will hear Hubie's distinct voice and whistle (he does a pretty good "Indian Love Song") as you relax in your room, the ocean breeze wafting through your window, the sound of palm fronds brushing against each other.
It makes for a fine background as you daydream of a world with no bosses to answer to and no clients to please. Ah, this is the life.
One of Aglicay's attractions is its private beach. And those who find comfort in the presence of water will be delighted that the resort has a "standard" white-sand beach and, at the other side of the hill, a cove.
The water at the beach is very calm, hardly making waves at the time my two companions and I visited. (In January and February, the waves are ideal for surfing.) Non-swimmers have nothing to fear: The water is so clear you can see the sand (as well as the seagrass and starfish of various sizes) below. The water is shallow and deepens very gradually.
Onshore, there is no one to ogle you, and you can wear that bikini you've never had the courage (or the figure) to wear. It's entirely possible to lie on the sand or on a chaise as Brazilian samba music, a favorite of the Martinez couple, plays in the background from the dining hall. You'll likely fall asleep, so make sure you're lying under a shade.
You can take a short hike up and down the hill within the resort property and be rewarded with the refreshing sight of the cove, its pristine blue-green water inviting you to wade in and cool off from the hot trek. Instead of sand, the cove has large stones, so you're better off wearing jelly shoes. The water here is calm all year. It's a good place to sit, meditate and read (or write) a good novel. Imagine it -- just you, your novel, and the tranquil water.
You can explore Alcantara and its neighboring towns by sea. Take a ride on Hagibis, a small pump boat, and see the solar-powered lighthouse on the island of Calatong.
Try mingling with the local folk and attend one of the local festivities that seem to take place every weekend in the summer. The Martinezes took my two companions and I to the town plaza to watch the Miss Alcantara beauty contest. We were pleasantly surprised to find that some contestants were quite vocal (and intelligent).
One contestant was asked: "If you were in the President's shoes, would you still run even though you had previously declared that you would not?"
The contestant's unforgettable reply (in Filipino): "No, because I would be breaking my word of honor."
Unfortunately, she lost. The contestant, I mean.
The Martinezes run Aglicay with a personal touch. They eat meals (freshly caught seafood, mostly) with you, and entertain you with all sorts of stories.
You'd expect them to talk about American life, having worked in the United States for 36 years. But no, their stories are the type your own relatives in the province would regale you with: life in a fishing village, how the fish catch brought to the town of Looc always ends up in Boracay (just an hour away by pump boat) to fill the hungry bellies of tourists there, the life of Julius and Hubie.
If you so desire, the Martinezes will also tell you how to prepare the simple everyday dishes they serve, such as cucumber-and-turnip salad, which has become my favorite.
If you manage to persuade them, the Martinezes may even teach you the basic steps of the tango and other ballroom dances. (Willie, a physician, took up dance lessons at the Alfred Murray Studios.)
When the time comes for you to leave Aglicay, you will likely feel a pang of sadness and regret-that the days and nights are not long enough for you to enjoy everything the place can offer.
But you'll also feel refreshed, ready to take on the stress of city living. And then you'll find yourself planning for your next trip to Aglicay, just like my friends and I did.
By Stella O. Gonzales
