Ordinary. The last time I traveled by sea it was awesome because the vessel was ginormous. This time, the passengers were clearly clamoring for space. In the economy class, lying down becomes precarious as changes in sleeping position could lead to a man overboard emergency. Well, my bad. I chose to get an accommodation at the economy class. However, it turned out to be an advantage. The sea wind overcompensates for the air conditioning, and this makes the entire area air continuous a.k.a. "air-con."
Plus, you're supposed to pay 300 pesos additional for a tourist class accommodation (tourest, as heard many times) and I hate to part from my three hundred pesos. After all, I only utilized my economy bed for 2 hours. I slept by 1 am, I woke up by 3 am to get ahead with the shower. Most of the time, I loitered at the tourist area, with my classmates very eager to have me there to contribute to the body heat against the extreme air conditioning that turned it into an accommodation at the North Pole.
The Trans-Asia ferry lifts anchor by 8 pm, and in order to deal with the waiting, I played cards with my classmates. The loser shall bear the punishment of the baby powder and shall walk around the place with demeaning white streaks all over the face. I'm quite lucky with all the training I got with card games. Back home, I'm a frequenter of gambling houses and gambling at wakes and that was way way back when I was still at high school. I'm not kidding.
When everyone had enough of the powdery sensation, the restobar was already on fire. They almost had the videoke machine broken with the input volume of songs and too bad for me, because of unrestrained loquacity earlier during the trip, my voice was not in the tip top shape. But still, I sang. (Malat nga lang.) After I murdered Irene Cara's "Fame", I realized I would never light up the sky with a flame. So I decided instead to explore the "vast territories" of the ferry.
When everyone had enough of the powdery sensation, the restobar was already on fire. They almost had the videoke machine broken with the input volume of songs and too bad for me, because of unrestrained loquacity earlier during the trip, my voice was not in the tip top shape. But still, I sang. (Malat nga lang.) After I murdered Irene Cara's "Fame", I realized I would never light up the sky with a flame. So I decided instead to explore the "vast territories" of the ferry.
I found myself at my bed. Seriously, I went to the topmost portion of the vessel before I got to my bed. All I got was wind and more wind. At least the view comforted me-- a canvas of black. And I mean really black, although there were some faint illuminations of a few candelas, enough intensity to make fireflies proud. I decided it wasn't at all life changing, and the shortness of my stay up there is testament to my diffidence about talking to someone I ought to explain myself to. As such, I preferred the "comfort" of my bed.
Notes: I got to the shower first. It's deplorable. I'm glad I'm not whiny. I don't usually voice out my complaints. It's tiresome.
Photos by Karl Ondoy. Doy, tenchuu.
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