Caramoan is pretty much all the same. White sandy beaches. Crystal clear water. Island-hopping. Survivor Series.
There is more to the peninsula, and the people, not everyone can see. Let me walk you to the Street side of Caramoan:
There is no premium gasoline in Caramoan.
The next gas station with this combustible is three hours away, back into mainland Camarines Sur and via the mind-boggling mountain passes of the Fuentebella National Highway. The road which — halfway through — made me think of aborting the whole trip.
They call it “Abortion Road.”
In search for a room, an old lady led me around the centro. She literally knocked on doors for me. I thought her troubles come with a fee. I thought wrong.
Caramoanons are generally warm. And appreciative of us visitors’ tenacity in coming here.
There is no banana boat in Caramoan. No jet skis. No zip lines. No videoke.
The locals are — so far — on track in keeping this “tourism development” off of their natural backdrop.