Story by Mark Verzo

Was where we went to, Holy Week 2010. Why? Because we did not have any plans, and like I “tweeted” (yes, I have Twitter), we almost ended up in Puerto Galera. Naujan is about two hours away from White Beach via automobile. The only reason we got to know of this unheard municipality is because of our third wheel, Reeza ni Sir A, of whom whose family hails from, who at the last minute suggested we go to instead—since Sir A could not come.

Going to Naujan, we took our usual Puerto Galera route with minor modifications—figure out a way to go to Alabang, bus from Alabang to Batangas Pier, Batangas Pier to Calapan via roro (minor modification), then 45-minute jeep ride to Naujan town proper.

So what the hell is in Naujan?

Nothing, really. Although the bore was mainly caused by us not having a car to go around by. Literally minutes before leaving, I googled for some exciting scenery and found out about some lakes and falls—all of which ended up in our hindi napuntahan, next time nalang list.

To cut Naujan some slack, here are some of the things I’d never forget: They had naturally-hot water coming out from their pipes. It was really hot and it made me say “Ang kulit ng tubig dito” a dozen times. They had this nice, clean and huge probinsya “plaza” (as in “kita tayo sa plaza…”), where the locals gathered and mingled on an almost daily basis. The town is dead by 8:00 pm, so if you have an inuman session and run out of beer, sorry.

What else?

The beach, or rather, the dagat is referred to by the locals as “Black Beach.” Typical dagat for me, but just imagine how the two girls I was with reacted. In fact, we were foreigners in an unforeign land, simply because we had Likas Papaya skin. Oh before I forget, the standard ulam order in their “restaurants” was Php 30. Dirt cheap, and so does a pack of Marlboros (Php 30. Php 34-35 in a typical Manila sari-sari), which left me really, really dumbfounded.

So, that’s it?

No, I have to end this post in a high note. And this, said in nothing but pure honesty, so help me, God, is the truth and nothing but the truth. The locals, I love you guys. You are the best. As cheap as the food already was, we could have survived even without our wallets. Food and drinks everywhere, food just after we’ve eaten, and lodging good for three separately (which we did not take, obviously). Plus, the locals can drink. Good thing I have some summer practice.

Special shout out to the Gayos and Balita families.

(This article originally posted from Thoughts in Binary.)