Bohol: A Moment In Paradise

I saw Bohol's city lights fade into the dim skyline in the wake of twinkling farewell to me. The foamy swells drawn by the ferryboat we were riding appeared to mumble a melody of quiet warmth.

The ship appeared to be generally as energized going home as it had been going to Bohol.

A sun-soaked Monday morning invited us to Panglao. When I initially plunged my toes into the welcoming waters of the shoreline, I assumed that notwithstanding the change of environment, things wouldn't be unique in relation to home.

Just about everybody from my family was there that it didn't crave going whatsoever. We brought home with us.

What's astounding about that gathering was that the main thing I was permitted to do was have some good times as I could. Those were the ten most paramount days of my adolescence when TV, machine diversions, Barbie dolls and Chinese fasteners had nothing to do with fun.

Despite the fact that I had the salty wind kissing my sun blazed skin or the steady swoosh of the moving waves that wouldn't provide for us hush, there wasn't a day I didn't wear a grin.