Cebu Rendezvous - A Preamble

I know, I know, I promised photos and a blow-by-blow of my trips to Cebu and Scandi. I still intend to do them. Actually for the period of time where Facebook was at its fever-pitch for me I was considering ditching the thought altogether, but then I realised nothing seals an experience quite like writing about it. But since it's a little late on a Sunday night to be putting up dozens of photos online, I shall just give you this little nugget to bate your breath. Heh.

(Damn, this shot is really unflattering. But still, I do like it.)

In Praise of Lurve

I don't know where we get our ideas from - Bird Park, Botak Jones, and now, Camping at East Coast Park - but we certainly mark the significant occasions in our life as a couple with visits to unusual locales.

So, last Saturday, The Boyfriend and I biked to ECP with heavily-loaded bags, picked a choice spot and starting pitching our tent.

Twenty minutes later, we finally got it up! I noticed that, besides the four corners, there were "hooks" in the middle of each side supposedly to place pins to further secure the tent. Before I knew it - the sea breeze began to blow.

Our tent shifted and moved, and got all wonky and out-of-shape.

"Argh!" I screamed. "Go buy pins!"

"No need la!" The Boyfriend countered. "One day only, buy for what??" As penny-pinching practical and thrifty as ever.

"But it will get windier at night," whined I, "and then we'll be in trouble." He then proceeded to fuss over the four corners, walking round a few times to re-adjust the legs of the tent, as I sat stubbornly sulking inside.

Finally, confident that the tent would hold, he entered the tent with a satisfied look written on his face. "Actually," he mused, "should've asked my brother for the pins, hor? Army sure have one what." (His brother is currently serving his NS.) By this time, however, I had missed his presence and was glad he was back, so I let the matter slide with a good-natured roll of my eyes.

And thus, the day proceeded, with him doing most of the tasks (buy tea, fuss over tent, buy dinner, fuss over tent, clear rubbish, fuss over tent) while I hid in our little cove.

The highlight of the day must be the shared reading of old letters and cards (I brought his, he didn't have space in his bag for mine). We reminisced, questioned, clarified and mostly laughed through the incidents and events that brought us to where we are today. On hindsight, it was part serendipity, part careful (sly?) planning and part dogged determination that we even managed to be together.

Night-time presented itself with a few minor challenges. We were to shower in the public toilets of the Resort (formerly NTUC Costa Sands), but by the time I went in, the pools were closed and the loo was deserted. The dimly-lit shower stalls were creepily silent except for the incessant dripping of a tap at the end of the row. I gingerly stripped, allowed the water to touch me, washed my privates hastily and got dressed again in a jiffy.

Later on, a group of foreign workers decided that 15 metres away from our tent was the best spot for them to lay a huge canvas, sit cross legged on and regale each other with stories while drinking sobriety away with an assortment of beers. Needless to say, they started making quite a din.

When the time came for us to retire for the night, I found that the ground that we picked to lay our tent over was rather uneven, causing my bum area to be lifted at an angle. I made do with by locating a small dent in the otherwise high mound, settled down and went to bed. I'm sure I now have a few small bruises on my pelvic area.

But all the more blissful for it. :)

I leave you with a few pictures we took of our experience: