Camping in Coron islands - Philippines

The following is a short glimpse from a camping trip from 2 years ago in Coron Philippines:

It's early. Maybe 5:30am. I wake up in our tent by the sound of our group members singing "Haaappy Birthday Jackie!" Imagine: a birthday in a perfectly deserted paradise island, far away from everything else, surrounded only by ocean, sky, seascape, your family, island puppies and some strangers you met on the boat a few days ago. I smile. Although it's not my birthday, I feel so ecstatic, it could as well be my birthday, or New Years, or any other glorious day. The screen tent offers clear views of the blue sky above us as I lay on top of the soft sand. Imagine that this is what your eyes see when you open them first thing in the morning. To my right is sleepy Jay wrapped by dreams, and further to the right the horizon is deeply blushing as the day gives birth to the same sun. Yet another fabulous sunrise. It's always sublime. Always sacred. I can't remember anymore what life was like a few weeks ago when we were't here. I realize I haven't once thought of my parents, my friends, my job, my house, my belongings, (or even Instagram) since arriving here...Nobody seems to remember or care what month it is, what day it is. Because it has no sense here. Time only has as much meaning as you give to it. Here on the islands, tomorrow seems really distant and yesterday has already been forgotten. Is this what being in the present really means?

I rush outside to watch the sunrise show before it's too late. Puppies and dogs everywhere awaiting the humans to wake up. They lick my sandy toes and follow me loyally to the shore, where we sit down to pay tributes to the rising sun. The eyes have adapted within a few weeks to seeing and appreciating simplicity and within that simplicity the heart somehow finds a vast amount of contentment. Even the terrible instant coffee I'm holding in my hands doesn't seem to bother me so much anymore (sorry Lavazza!) It's so easy to slide into the flow of island life in the Philippines. Without any resistance, you watch yourself surrender to the mysteries of an unknown lifestyle that you feel so deeply connected to. Our DNA remembers it from our ancestors. How good it feels to walk barefoot on sand, dirt, grass, earth from the moment you wake up till you rest to sleep. How good it feels not to have a clue what you look like because there are no mirrors anywhere. How good it feels not to carry more than today's burdens in your head. How good it feels to have no choice but to slow down and take one step at a time. I feel at home. Yes, yes, I'm home.

One of the dogs has found a giant crab, so it digs out a big hole on the sand and is trying to bury the crab inside. The crab is old or maybe sleepy at the moment and it's not quite fighting for its life. I can't tell if the dog is just playing treasure hunting or if it's trying to hide some tasty food for later. Miraculously for the crab, more people come nearby and the dogs, distracted and eager to play, forget about their toy, which gets to live another day.

​It's time for a shower. The ocean here in the Philippines has a color and warmth that makes the heart sing. It is so inviting that you start to doubt if we really need to stay as terrestrial creatures forever. I grab my snorkeling mask and go into the blue. Giant colorful clams look like fancy, half-opened suitcases scattered along the ocean floor for as far as the eyes can see. The corals are shining. Everything is awake and dancing underwater. An angry Nemo is starring right at me! 2 big squids are running away from me! Inhaaale. Exhaaaale. Move slowly. This steady rhythm of breathing and pure awareness while snorkeling is more powerful then any other yoga pranayama I know of. There is nowhere else I'd rather be but here. My body is all rinsed, my organs grateful for the smooth tidal massage, and my soul feels, well, heck yeah, pretty cleansed as well. My tangled and sun dried hair on the other hand will just have to wait for better days. I have no idea how the mermaids maintain their gorgeous locks...

Our guide, Don, is spear fishing. With an incredible precision and ability to hold the breath underwater for a long time, he has caught food for the crew's breakfast and maybe if we're lucky, even some leftover for us for lunch. Filipinos love to have fish for breakfast. They are always eating in big family groups, with the music turned on, even if it is 4:30 in the morning. I'm so thrilled at the idea of getting everything you need from your environment, just enough to survive and nothing more. I am aware that this is not possible with the 7.4 billion people alive today, but if only we weren't so greedy and treated earth with the same love and compassion we have towards ourselves and our families, this planet would be thriving for years to come. Regardless of my vegetarian diet, I have made the decision to eat fish on this journey because we are only removing from the ocean no more than what we need to survive.

Back at the camp it's still early morning. Roosters are announcing their wake up calls (are you surprised yet that there are roosters and dogs in the middle of nowhere?). So much magnificence has already happened in just a matter of an hour. A beautiful day was born. The air, earth, and ocean are filled with so much magic and electricity; everything is beaming with life and light. I hold my breath as I look around, wanting to stop and freeze this moment forever in my memory cells: Some people are still sleeping in their tents; some are passed out on the hammocks scattered around the tiny island. A guitar rests against a tree, a reminder of last night's "concert" under the starry & moonless sky. 2 girls are giggling hard in the distance. The fire has gone out a long time ago but my nose still remembers the smell of the dancing flames. Some people are washing up by throwing a bucket tied to a rope into the salty well and pulling it up one a time. The scenes to behold are truly amazing! We, the Westerners, have not forgotten after all how to survive and thrive with very little. The locals live like this every day. They don't know (or want or have) another way. I truly envy them. And I secretly thank them for reminding me that it is possible to be happy when things are simple and all your treasures rest inside you. I can see this truth in their faces. All the little kids playing, waving and smiling with all their heart: that smile is as real as it gets.

​The tribe gathers around the table for breakfast. It's only our 2nd day of camping together but somehow it feels like we've been doing this forever. The birthday girl is happy. This year's presents may be a bit simple: seashells, frangipani flowers fallen from the trees, puppy hugs, strangers' hugs, mango pancakes, a serenade... I'm certain she will remember this day for years to come. I know I will.

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This story was originally published on my blog where you can find more info/pictures from this camping expedition: http://www.yogainmilan.com/travelblog/category/coron