Serenity now
January 16, 2005 | 12:00am
The new year has not been kind.
My fortuneteller was right in saying that this year would be filled with delilahs. Barely a week into it, it’s been a Willy Wonka of headaches. With friends imploding, waistlines expanding, lovers complaining and the predictable such, you just want what was famously yelped in Seinfeld by Ben Stiller Sr., "Serenity now!"
Nothing screams "Serenity now!" like Nami. We all know that Boracay is hardly an oasis of relaxation during the holidays. It’s a flammable strip of sand, soaked in booze and determined hard bodies. However, if you take a little turn towards the coast of Diniwid, you will discover the sybaritic joys of luxury and repose at Nami. Nami of 360-degree ocean view windowed rooms, Jacuzzis on the balcony, charming his and hers toiletry kits, fight views all over and, of course, the charming smile of Nami’s GM JR who, by the way, is from my hometown Guimaras.
It’s the third year for our crew, what used to be a group of 12 (evenly divided with four gay men, four chicks and four dicks) has now pleasantly expanded to 20 (with four straight guys, five girls and the rest va – guys, you are losing the battle!) , a comforting thought that we are gaining friends in spite of the implosions. Tina Tinio, who hosted the event along with her beau Lex Ledesma, celebrated her birthday along with Tim Yap, interior geniuses Miguel Rosales and Anton Mendoza, Maurice Arcache, Shu girl Xeng Zulueta, and Jackie Cohen-Antonio.
Moet and Chandon blasted and popped sensibilities throughout the weekend, accompanied by the to-die-for fare of Nami (two words for would-be Bora visitors: basil omelette). What impressed me the most was Tina’s amazing beach booty filled with chic Havaiianas, toiletries from Ralph Lauren Blue and Kerastase and little surprises!
It was off to a good start. I decided to make friends with carbs and enjoyed brunch 24 hours a day!
As if the carb treaty was not enough to make me happy, I was treated like a Maharajah (I always felt most comfy feeling royal – kidding!) and buddied along with a Nami. The Nami system is quite a novel idea. Thought of by Lex and Cheese Ledesma of Nami Resorts, you have a personal butler at your service to tend to your needs, whether it’s to fetch the cough syrup I needed badly to listening to me drone on and on about my tan lines. It was like having a boyfriend except that you tip him. Being the difficult wench that I am, I should really tip my boyfriends for their altruism and for tolerating me.
Needless to say, it was all grand. The celebrants had a chic soiree at the nearby grilled grub palace Oyster Boy with some (more) bubbly, oysters and Nami chow (mushroom tarts, salpicao and chocolate truffle cake, all Nami classics). We were all to wear "formal" which, of course, I took quite literally. With my buddies in their shorts and linens, I came in a chocolate chiffon gown and Arnel Papa’d out to the nines. Lem, a friend of ours visiting from Arizona, asked if it was my birthday, I simply said, "Nope, just plain rude." Of course, my other fight pals refused to be upstaged such as Tina in her glorious Tina Daniac beach gown and Xeng in her sexy number.
I’m telling you beach gowns are sooo gonna kick ass this year! Leave the shorts to the boxers, ladies!
The night progressed to an homage of Kylie, George Michael and Madonna, further reiterating the fact that straights have lost to the vas. It was truly a vacation. By the end of the night, we heard something that we thought we’d only hear in our dreams, "We don’t have beer, we only have champagne." Which, much to my surprise, I refused. I was absolutely bubblied out. Aside from the usual stuff happening like someone losing a phone, someone (well, a lot actually) got numbers and a bit of scandale revelations all throughout. A party is a party, after all.
Rest of the weekend we Aria’d and Hey Jude’d it (the Nuvo and Embassy of Bora) and Summer Place’d for the determined (the V of Bora). We tanned with the cooperative sun and ventured to the White Beach for some muscle action.
Some got lucky, others just wasted. It was nice seeing Bora calm and vast, considering it was a version of Greenbelt on a Saturday night – naked a few days ago. After what I consider was another sedate New Year’s in San Francisco (watched Dallas, slept at 10:30), there’s nothing like good friends, idle chatter, Moet and la playa to make it all happen!
My fortuneteller was right in saying that this year would be filled with delilahs. Barely a week into it, it’s been a Willy Wonka of headaches. With friends imploding, waistlines expanding, lovers complaining and the predictable such, you just want what was famously yelped in Seinfeld by Ben Stiller Sr., "Serenity now!"
Nothing screams "Serenity now!" like Nami. We all know that Boracay is hardly an oasis of relaxation during the holidays. It’s a flammable strip of sand, soaked in booze and determined hard bodies. However, if you take a little turn towards the coast of Diniwid, you will discover the sybaritic joys of luxury and repose at Nami. Nami of 360-degree ocean view windowed rooms, Jacuzzis on the balcony, charming his and hers toiletry kits, fight views all over and, of course, the charming smile of Nami’s GM JR who, by the way, is from my hometown Guimaras.
It’s the third year for our crew, what used to be a group of 12 (evenly divided with four gay men, four chicks and four dicks) has now pleasantly expanded to 20 (with four straight guys, five girls and the rest va – guys, you are losing the battle!) , a comforting thought that we are gaining friends in spite of the implosions. Tina Tinio, who hosted the event along with her beau Lex Ledesma, celebrated her birthday along with Tim Yap, interior geniuses Miguel Rosales and Anton Mendoza, Maurice Arcache, Shu girl Xeng Zulueta, and Jackie Cohen-Antonio.
Moet and Chandon blasted and popped sensibilities throughout the weekend, accompanied by the to-die-for fare of Nami (two words for would-be Bora visitors: basil omelette). What impressed me the most was Tina’s amazing beach booty filled with chic Havaiianas, toiletries from Ralph Lauren Blue and Kerastase and little surprises!
It was off to a good start. I decided to make friends with carbs and enjoyed brunch 24 hours a day!
As if the carb treaty was not enough to make me happy, I was treated like a Maharajah (I always felt most comfy feeling royal – kidding!) and buddied along with a Nami. The Nami system is quite a novel idea. Thought of by Lex and Cheese Ledesma of Nami Resorts, you have a personal butler at your service to tend to your needs, whether it’s to fetch the cough syrup I needed badly to listening to me drone on and on about my tan lines. It was like having a boyfriend except that you tip him. Being the difficult wench that I am, I should really tip my boyfriends for their altruism and for tolerating me.
Needless to say, it was all grand. The celebrants had a chic soiree at the nearby grilled grub palace Oyster Boy with some (more) bubbly, oysters and Nami chow (mushroom tarts, salpicao and chocolate truffle cake, all Nami classics). We were all to wear "formal" which, of course, I took quite literally. With my buddies in their shorts and linens, I came in a chocolate chiffon gown and Arnel Papa’d out to the nines. Lem, a friend of ours visiting from Arizona, asked if it was my birthday, I simply said, "Nope, just plain rude." Of course, my other fight pals refused to be upstaged such as Tina in her glorious Tina Daniac beach gown and Xeng in her sexy number.
I’m telling you beach gowns are sooo gonna kick ass this year! Leave the shorts to the boxers, ladies!
The night progressed to an homage of Kylie, George Michael and Madonna, further reiterating the fact that straights have lost to the vas. It was truly a vacation. By the end of the night, we heard something that we thought we’d only hear in our dreams, "We don’t have beer, we only have champagne." Which, much to my surprise, I refused. I was absolutely bubblied out. Aside from the usual stuff happening like someone losing a phone, someone (well, a lot actually) got numbers and a bit of scandale revelations all throughout. A party is a party, after all.
Rest of the weekend we Aria’d and Hey Jude’d it (the Nuvo and Embassy of Bora) and Summer Place’d for the determined (the V of Bora). We tanned with the cooperative sun and ventured to the White Beach for some muscle action.
Some got lucky, others just wasted. It was nice seeing Bora calm and vast, considering it was a version of Greenbelt on a Saturday night – naked a few days ago. After what I consider was another sedate New Year’s in San Francisco (watched Dallas, slept at 10:30), there’s nothing like good friends, idle chatter, Moet and la playa to make it all happen!
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