Sabang beach
Sabang is very pleasant. We’re actually staying in the only proper resort in the place; the handful of other places to stay are all of the beach bungalow variety, and the handful of places to eat are all made of wood and bamboo too. The beach is golden sand, the sea warm and shallow for splashing about in. Jungle-clad mountains surround the bay in an arc. Hope it stays undeveloped, in spite of the underground river.
Of course, in spite of staying in a resort we aren’t treating it like many of the people staying here: as an inclusive bubble where you spend all your time, eat all your meals, use the spa and have all your drinks brought to the poolside. We… just… can’t. It’s not us.
So we’ve had pizzas on two nights at The Smoky Place, a tiny ramshackle beach bar with a wood-fired brick oven in the back, the waves on the shore about ten steps away. And we’ve enjoyed fruit shakes from the stalls along by the jetty.
Waterfall pool
We had a massage on the beach as well, which was a quarter of the resort price. It’s just blissful to lay there for a whole hour and be massaged expertly with sweet-smelling oil for the princely sum of £6. We’ve also trekked along the shore to a waterfall that splashes down into a pool right on the beach, seemingly scarcely visited (most people really do just come here for the mandatory Underground River tour and then split).
To balance things out, we’ve had a splash in the resort pool… though it’s not as much fun as having a splash in the sea. We’ve also eaten our last meal at the resort restaurant. There were fire dancers, and better table service, but also a sterility to it all that I’m just not in the mood for at the moment. I’d rather be along the beach, at one of the shacks. I guess it’s being in the “traveller” mindset rather than the “high-end tourist” mindset.
But who is Fairy Jane?
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