An aperitif to whet the appetite for more. More. More. More.
In less than 50 hours, what can one truly ingest, digest – anything to taste and hope be sated with – in such a delectable feast as Cebu?
Off the Diosdado Macapagal International Airport past 7 on a Friday evening, the fun starts aboard Cebu Pacific Air’s turbo-prop ATR-72 with its friendly, lovable crew.
Touched down Mactan International before 9 p.m. Through imposing Marcelo Fernan Bridge onto Mandaue, right on time at Marriott, at the very heart of the Cebu Business Center. Quick check-inn: immaculate deluxe room, fruits by the plateful, clubhouse sandwiches of salmon and ham and a personalized card for welcome. Quicker change of clothing.
The Spa at Cebu, past 10 p.m. Ah, the aroma of mint, the hint of rosemary and thyme, of Scarborough Fair we pine. Ay, there’s the rub, the knead, the tap of the finger, the cup of the palm, the press of the hand: sensuous, relaxing, healing. Aye, no better rub one has had.
Saturday, 7:30 a.m. A sprinkling of Middle-Easterns and Europeans, the ubiquitous Koreans crowd Marriott’s international buffet breakfast. Crispy danguit and fleshy tanguigue, garlic rice, lots of tomatoes: heaven for the pescatarian dieter. Slices of pineapples, papayas and melons for fiber; three glasses of grapefruit and two cups of brewed coffee. Enough energy to last the day.
By 10 a.m. off to the Taoist Temple up Beverly Hills, in silent contemplation before images of the gods of the sea and earth, in serene awe of the city way below.
A visit to the President Osmena home turned museum preceded crash course in Cebuano history monumentalized in bronze and stone at the Heritage Monument. Some nationalist stirrings in beholding brave Lapu-Lapu wielding his kampilan against the Castilian invasion. Only to bow in reverence before Magellan’s Cross – finally seen at last, on this nth visit to Cebu began in early 1990 yet.
Spirituality takes over before the Señor at the basilica menor. As you bless the Cebuano, dear Sto. Niño, may you bless the Filipino too.
Late lunch at The Port in Waterfront-Lahug ended the city tour provided by the Department of Tourism, Region 7. So much we’ve learned from our guide Michael.
Familiar face stood out at the lunch crowd, good friend Bruce MacTayag, er, McTavish, international boxing referee, so gracious enough to take us to the “arena” at the Waterfront where local boy Z Gorres was to slug it out with Mexican Leyva that night. Yes, the place looked like Vegas, Bruce. (Gorres TKOed Leyva in the 7th, if you care to know.)
One-hour siesta at Marriott to replenish all that energy required of a shopping spree at an Ayala mall, The Terrace, directly connected to the hotel by a covered walkway. Sanuk sandals for P1,400+ at the Res Toe Run shop were a steal. Coffee never tasted as good as that at The Coffee Beans and Tea Leaf, the honey-and-oat muffins too. Islands Souvenir is where to find the best pasalubongs. Luxurious dreams are made at Lucerne’s with its Rolex and Omega watches. And two Lacoste stalls under one roof! A loaded shopaholic heaven there!
Pre-dinner aperitif at the Blu grill and bar of Marco Polo made more delightful by the lights of the city below. Then there was yet another feast at its international buffet dinner in the main dining hall.
Yes, seaview or mountainview are still the options in room allocations as in its once Cebu Plaza incarnation. Marco Polo though offers far superior rooms now.
Sunday, checked out of Marriott at 10 a.m. Off now to Plantation Bay. A quick sidetrip to Alegro Guitars – how can one say he’s been to Cebu without looking at its guitars?
Will I play as good as you if I buy that P14,000 banduria? So I asked the maestro playing it most magnificently. He did not know. I did not buy. God, how I wished I had his talent.
Wish – one look at Plantation Bay makes one wish to stay looonger. One gets literally transposed to the Caribbean with those semi-colonial houses with porches by the blue lagoon. No word or picture will do justice to the place. It is best experience. Wish. To be back there. Soon.
One last stop: Waterfront-Mactan. No, we did not do the casino there. But we had its Ambassador Lounge, if only for half-hour before checking in for our flight back to Clark.
Little past 7 p.m. we were picking our baggage at the DMIA carousel. In less than 50 hours, Cebu we have savored. Sated, we are not. For there is ever more to come back to Cebu for.
(Our thanks to Cebu Pacific, to Charles Lim and Michelle Eve de Guzman of Selrahco Consultancy. Cebu Pacific flies daily from DMIA to Cebu, as well as to Bangkok, Singapore, Hongkong and Macau on a regular basis)
In less than 50 hours, what can one truly ingest, digest – anything to taste and hope be sated with – in such a delectable feast as Cebu?
Off the Diosdado Macapagal International Airport past 7 on a Friday evening, the fun starts aboard Cebu Pacific Air’s turbo-prop ATR-72 with its friendly, lovable crew.
Touched down Mactan International before 9 p.m. Through imposing Marcelo Fernan Bridge onto Mandaue, right on time at Marriott, at the very heart of the Cebu Business Center. Quick check-inn: immaculate deluxe room, fruits by the plateful, clubhouse sandwiches of salmon and ham and a personalized card for welcome. Quicker change of clothing.
The Spa at Cebu, past 10 p.m. Ah, the aroma of mint, the hint of rosemary and thyme, of Scarborough Fair we pine. Ay, there’s the rub, the knead, the tap of the finger, the cup of the palm, the press of the hand: sensuous, relaxing, healing. Aye, no better rub one has had.
Saturday, 7:30 a.m. A sprinkling of Middle-Easterns and Europeans, the ubiquitous Koreans crowd Marriott’s international buffet breakfast. Crispy danguit and fleshy tanguigue, garlic rice, lots of tomatoes: heaven for the pescatarian dieter. Slices of pineapples, papayas and melons for fiber; three glasses of grapefruit and two cups of brewed coffee. Enough energy to last the day.
By 10 a.m. off to the Taoist Temple up Beverly Hills, in silent contemplation before images of the gods of the sea and earth, in serene awe of the city way below.
A visit to the President Osmena home turned museum preceded crash course in Cebuano history monumentalized in bronze and stone at the Heritage Monument. Some nationalist stirrings in beholding brave Lapu-Lapu wielding his kampilan against the Castilian invasion. Only to bow in reverence before Magellan’s Cross – finally seen at last, on this nth visit to Cebu began in early 1990 yet.
Spirituality takes over before the Señor at the basilica menor. As you bless the Cebuano, dear Sto. Niño, may you bless the Filipino too.
Late lunch at The Port in Waterfront-Lahug ended the city tour provided by the Department of Tourism, Region 7. So much we’ve learned from our guide Michael.
Familiar face stood out at the lunch crowd, good friend Bruce MacTayag, er, McTavish, international boxing referee, so gracious enough to take us to the “arena” at the Waterfront where local boy Z Gorres was to slug it out with Mexican Leyva that night. Yes, the place looked like Vegas, Bruce. (Gorres TKOed Leyva in the 7th, if you care to know.)
One-hour siesta at Marriott to replenish all that energy required of a shopping spree at an Ayala mall, The Terrace, directly connected to the hotel by a covered walkway. Sanuk sandals for P1,400+ at the Res Toe Run shop were a steal. Coffee never tasted as good as that at The Coffee Beans and Tea Leaf, the honey-and-oat muffins too. Islands Souvenir is where to find the best pasalubongs. Luxurious dreams are made at Lucerne’s with its Rolex and Omega watches. And two Lacoste stalls under one roof! A loaded shopaholic heaven there!
Pre-dinner aperitif at the Blu grill and bar of Marco Polo made more delightful by the lights of the city below. Then there was yet another feast at its international buffet dinner in the main dining hall.
Yes, seaview or mountainview are still the options in room allocations as in its once Cebu Plaza incarnation. Marco Polo though offers far superior rooms now.
Sunday, checked out of Marriott at 10 a.m. Off now to Plantation Bay. A quick sidetrip to Alegro Guitars – how can one say he’s been to Cebu without looking at its guitars?
Will I play as good as you if I buy that P14,000 banduria? So I asked the maestro playing it most magnificently. He did not know. I did not buy. God, how I wished I had his talent.
Wish – one look at Plantation Bay makes one wish to stay looonger. One gets literally transposed to the Caribbean with those semi-colonial houses with porches by the blue lagoon. No word or picture will do justice to the place. It is best experience. Wish. To be back there. Soon.
One last stop: Waterfront-Mactan. No, we did not do the casino there. But we had its Ambassador Lounge, if only for half-hour before checking in for our flight back to Clark.
Little past 7 p.m. we were picking our baggage at the DMIA carousel. In less than 50 hours, Cebu we have savored. Sated, we are not. For there is ever more to come back to Cebu for.
(Our thanks to Cebu Pacific, to Charles Lim and Michelle Eve de Guzman of Selrahco Consultancy. Cebu Pacific flies daily from DMIA to Cebu, as well as to Bangkok, Singapore, Hongkong and Macau on a regular basis)
