… strolling through pure white flour, sifting baby powder through your warm toes, or meandering through a path of cocaine* as far as the eye can see. Now, amplify that intensity by adding a dab of blue to the horizon; blue the color of afternoons forever spent on your back massaging shapes from clouds.

At first glance you fight back the urge to lay down and lick and lap at what surely must be powdered sugar from Willy Wonka’s Tropical Dreamscape.

Get the picture?

That’s Boracay.

The best beach I’ve ever seen.


I’ve journeyed to sundry beaches across the world. Some surrounded by towering peaks of limestone, others by gently sloping mountains sprawling into the sea, some backed by exquisite mansions, others by broken jagged fence posts. But speaking purely of the quality and consistency of sand, in harmony with tranquil liquid sky, I’ve yet to find a rival to Boracay. The closest memory conjured by this beach is that of White Sands, New Mexico, sans the aquamarine contrast of the South China Sea.

The photographs that follow are only a fleeting glimpse into the serenity that saturates this nirvana.

*I’ve NEVER touched cocaine, so don’t even go there.