We were on our way out of Cebu City when the resort phoned: ferry trips to Bantayan Island had been cancelled due to bad weather. That was how we ended up in neighboring Mactan at the Imperial Palace — excuse me, the former Imperial; we missed it on the first pass because we we were unaware that it had been renamed Jpark Island Resort and Waterpark.
The name should have set off alarm bells if I weren’t so preoccupied being disappointed with the aborted Bantayan trip. Proper nouns aside, my Cebuano companions said the “new” place had nothing to distinguish it from the old one. What it lacked in character it tried to make up for in tackiness. From the chandeliers and curtains (which looked like they belonged in the shower) down to the soap dish and busy carpets: bleh. The lobby was crawling with Koreans, whom one could hardly fault for patronizing their own (the establishment is supposedly Korean-owned). I have nothing against Koreans, see, but don’t they have anyplace else to go? And don’t they all look alike to you? That’s why I’m convinced Rain, the actor/singer, isn’t Korean at all: I still have to meet a Korean who looks even remotely like him.
I was beginning to feel like a stranger in my own backyard by the time we made it to the receiving desk, so it was a surprise when the person behind the counter had actual color, but more so when she turned out to be distantly related to my mother. Still, I blanched when she said that we had to deposit ten thousand pesos for incidentals — you know, just in case we decided to throw a wild pahr-teh in our rooms. At our age it was a flattering thought (okay, she didn’t actually say that), but when I joked that the deposit only applied to Filipinos — well, that was tasteless. Who knows? Maybe Koreans have a problem with trust. I have heard they can get pretty wild, among other things.
To be honest, the place wasn’t all that bad. The rooms were clean and the sprawling grounds well maintained. Service was prompt, courteous. Best of all was the Internet connection, although it would have cost us a great deal less to just park outside Bo’s Coffee and help ourselves to the wi-fi, but then it’s not everyday one gets to surf the WWW with a view of the ocean from five floors above. The breeze was invigorating, briny and faintly laced with nicotine from Jerome puffing away on the verandah. We could have stayed in, actually. Jerome wanted to. And maybe we should have, but your idea of fun may differ so let us leave it at that. Let’s just say this was my first time at a water park and I, who have spent a lifetime surrounded by water, was underwhelmed.
I notice I have this thing about resorts: I tend to find easy fault with them. Maybe it’s the rates, which I try to see justified. Some people take all the free toiletries they could get their hands on (which I find crass.) Others steal the linen, but that’s what the deposit is for, no? Besides, there wasn’t an ashtray at Jpark that I couldn’t purchase for ten pesos at the Taiwanese store a block from our house, it was that tacky. I figured I had a better chance of getting away shoplifting nicer stuff at Muji (strictly hypothetical, of course).
The biggest surprise was the bath soap. It smelled like detergent! Tide, if I’m not mistaken. I am totally prepared to be called out on this. In fact, I dare anyone to. I took a cake of that soap with me precisely for such eventuality. As our old debate teacher Dr. Deveza liked to remind us, argument plus evidence equals proof.
There was more, I assure you, but it was the soap that did it. When it came time for dinner, I was relieved when Jerome insisted that we go outside. The resort, that is. Who knew what new wonder awaited us in the house soup? I was in no mood to find out. So we went to AA BBQ. Traffic was horrendous, what with road repairs, rain, mud everywhere, and maniacal Cebuano drivers (don’t imagine Cebuanos will be insulted by this; they actually derive perverse pride in it). Heading back to the resort, we opted to take an alternate route which, if longer, at least didn’t raise the prospect of us spending the night in the car, which was where most of this post was written.
As for dinner, it was uneventful, which is to say AA delivered, as usual. It was a welcome change from the monotony of the day. I was sick, sick, sick of surprises.
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