Papa woke us up at six, and the early morning sunlight greeted my eyes as I yawned and stretched, pushing away the sleepiness that lingered from the deep slumber I was just in. It was a Sunday and judging from the birds chirping, it was going to be a beautiful sunny day. My brother and I changed from our pajamas and headed out. Papa's Suzuki motorcycle was already revving to life and we excitedly climbed up, not even thinking of saying goodbye to our mom, anticipating the adventure we were getting into.
We zipped through the subdivision road and into the beach entrance. Papa paid 10 pesos for each of us to get inside, and my brother and I raced down the shore. Gulf View, that was the name of the beach we frequented when we were young. My dad used to bring us here to swim for an hour or two, just until the sun gets up high in the sky. He used to tell us that the sea is good for our health. These beach trips were one of those rare occasions when my brother and I are the best of friends because we usually bickered and fought with each other on normal days.
We swam together with me creating stories in my head; stories like being a mermaid princess, of sharks and jellyfishes, and actually believing that I can breathe underwater. We built sandcastles and dug deep holes all around it to resemble a moat. We covered each other with sand and just pretty much had fun.
Papa calls us when it's time to go home. He usually just sat in a cottage, eating boiled bananas and sweet potatoes, watching us as we had the time of our lives. We don't bring a change of clothes, we just drove all the way home in our wet clothes, letting the wind dry us. We arrive home as mama has the breakfast ready, and we return once again to the normal lives we were used to.
The short and quick beach trips we had when we were young contributed a lot to my love for the ocean. These are memories I will never tire of reminiscing. xx
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