By Jasper Valdez
AFTER six long years, I finally found myself packing for a much-awaited reunion—with the road, the beach, and old friends. Our last trip to Bolinao’s Patar Beach was way back in 2019, before the world hit pause because of the pandemic. In 2025, it felt just right to come back.
We kicked off the adventure in Cubao, what we often call “the center of the universe.” Three cars, a convoy, ready for the road ahead. First stop: Lakeshore NLEX to gas up, stock up on snacks, and stretch a little before the real drive began.
The map apps promised a 5.5-hour drive. Reality? Closer to nine. Holiday traffic, winding provincial roads, and a few unexpected stops stretched the journey into an epic road trip.
Somewhere along the way, we decided to take a breather at Daang Katutubo view deck in Aguilar. It was a quick stop but totally worth it—rolling hills stretching out under the sun, a quiet moment to catch our breath and appreciate the views before pushing on.
Five hours in, hunger took over.
We decided to have lunch at Cheat Day Resto along Romulo Highway, still in Aguilar. It wasn’t fancy, but it was perfect. We dug into plates of smoky chicken inasal and sizzling platters. More than the food, though, it was the cool air and shaded rest we needed most after hours under the brutal sun.
Because by then, the heat was unreal. The heat index in nearby Sual, Pangasinan had soared to 36.6°C, and stepping back outside after lunch felt like walking straight into an oven.
We resumed the journey, somewhat unsure exactly where we were at some points—somewhere between the dusty stretches of Sual and the zigzagging climbs toward Bolinao. The scenery started shifting, and the cars crawled through one-lane bridges and rough roads still under construction.
After climbing the mountains of Mangatarem, Pangasinan and weaving through the coastal lowlands of Alaminos, we passed near Lingayen Gulf. But even the glimpse of the famous shoreline didn’t compare to the white sands we were chasing at Patar. So we pressed on.
When we finally reached Bolinao town proper, we thought we were there. But just like six years ago, the same thought hit us: Where the heck is the beach?
We zigged, we zagged, we second-guessed Google Maps more than a few times.
And then—at last—the tip of the Cape Bolinao Lighthouse appeared like a beacon on the horizon. Suddenly, the exhaustion, the traffic, the sunburns—it didn’t seem to matter. The beach was close. The sand was near. And so was a much-needed rest at Dela Cruz Transient House.
We were only there a little over a day—around 28 hours, give or take—but it was exactly what we needed.
The beach was just a few barefoot strides away from our accommodation. Friends sprawled out on the sand, swapped beers, and traded stories—some drowned out by laughter, others blurred by the headaches the next day.
For the better, it seems. Wink wink.
It was a good trip. It was a happy Easter.
