Off to El Nido
Monday, February 2, 2026
On the Road Again!
Woke up in the beautiful Water lily room in Dolce Vita. It was a crisp morning and the birds were singing.
Dolce Vita
We began the long stretch of travel — a six-hour van ride.
To be honest, it felt long. The hours didn’t roll by easily, and we didn’t have any gadgets loaded with movies or shows to distract us. It was just us, the road, and time moving a little slower than we would have liked.
The van was cramped and the seats weren't very comfortable but at least we didn't have to sit next to anyone else like the people in the last row who were practically sitting on each other's thighs, squeezed tight like sardines.
But somehow, even that became special.
There was internet on my phone, so we decided to listen to the Sunday sermon — even though it was already Monday. We tuned in to Johnson’s message and quietly listened, letting the words sink in as the van rolled forward. After that, we played random things — bits of music, short talks — whatever we could find to pass the time. We shared the same earphones.
Yes, the roaming data Papu had in her phone was very useful. Even though it was a bit spotty in some places it was very nice to listen to the worship and message. Little bit of comedy too!
Oh yeh ..Before boarding the van that morning, we had treated ourselves to some really yummy breakfast. Warm, satisfying, comforting. We even took a few lovely photos outside — capturing that fresh-morning glow before the long journey began. And on the way , we got some salted cashews and Buko(Coconut) pie. All sweets and food were very mild in taste but still it didn't lack in flavour.
When the van ride finally ended, we switched to a tuk-tuk. It was the cutest thing — essentially a two-wheeler with an extra little seating attachment. Compact, quirky, and full of charm. Riding in it felt like we had officially entered island mode.
The breeze hit differently while in tuk tuk. The surroundings changed. The air felt saltier.
We were given simple directions: “Just look for the bottle store.”That sounded easy enough.
But there we were, two girls walking around this serene island paradise, stopping random locals and asking, “Excuse me… where is the bottle store?” Again and again.
The more we repeated it, the funnier it became.
It almost sounded as though we were desperately hunting for drinks in the middle of a tropical island — like we couldn’t survive without it. The irony wasn’t lost on us. There we were, surrounded by turquoise waters and palm trees, yet urgently inquiring about a “bottle store.”
On hindsight, it would have been easier if they asked us to come to Cafe Athena and then cross the road. Even the locals seemed confused about the Bottle Store.
And it was exactly what the name suggested — shelves fully loaded with bottles upon bottles of whiskey and every kind of alcohol imaginable. It was quite the sight. But right there, tucked almost modestly in the middle of all those towering liquor displays, was a small counter to check into our room upstairs.
The place was incredibly close to the beach. You could almost hear the waves breathing from where we stood. The roads, the palm trees, the salty wind — everything felt so island-like, so warm and toasty. The sea stretched out in front of us in that calm, endless blue.
After all the tension, travel, running, and waiting — we were finally there.
An island.
The beach.
The waves.
And it was very, very beautiful.
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