Getaways

Sands of time

Even with the mellower late afternoon sun no longer beating down and bleaching my skin with its blistering kiss, still, it was Sahara enough.

GABRIEL MALVAR · Oct 25, 2026, 2:22 AM

VISITORS ride 4x4 vehicles across the uneven terrain of the Paoay Sand Dunes, one of Ilocos Norte’s popular outdoor attractions. — Photographs courtesy of Jeremy Bayaya from The Extra Mile Productions

This sandy corner of Ilocos was not the Sahara, but it could well have been. From a lonely crest, one of countless in Paoay’s dunes, a landscape of nothing but endless sweeping sand stretched out further than my sight, embraced only by the sea to the west. Even with the mellower late afternoon sun no longer beating down and bleaching my skin with its blistering kiss, still, it was Sahara enough.

But the resident version could be enjoyed without the associated risks of the great deserts. Here, there was little chance of getting lost in the middle of nowhere, swallowed by the vastness or being abducted by African bandits.

Earlier, on off-road 4x4s, we tore through the sand, which rose and fell like undulating waves. There were no roads; driving tracks were determined as we went along. We changed directions often, turning sharply at will to detour around irregular dunes or bouncing up and down on uneven terrain. The speed was thrilling, but on my feet, swinging from side to side as the vehicle twisted over fickle ground, the excitement meter rose several notches higher.

TIRE tracks cut across the sand at Paoay, contrasting with the wind-shaped patterns that cover the dunes.

At the water’s edge, a woman aged by the sun made salt the old way — running seawater through a crude, improvised filter made entirely out of sand. Beds of salt, her day’s work, were laid out on straw mats to dry. Fisher folk flung their long lines or nets out to sea. Industriousness, an Ilocano trait, was very much on exhibit and regarded highly. How could you not help but be struck by the fortitude of those who pit their fortunes against the unforgiving landscape? The environment definitely determines who you are.

In a quieter moment, a flush of dusk tiptoeing over the horizon graced by a descending luminous orange sphere, I observed the swirling patterns on the sandy surface fashioned by the gusting wind, uninterrupted save for tire marks that broke the perfect geometric symmetry. The vast emptiness had a profound allure, its loneliness appealing and transcendent.

Time and nature are the true eternal forces, respecting neither permanence nor authority. Every trace of my presence here will eventually be erased, covered by shifting sand or eroded by the elements. The desert will ultimately prevail. Perhaps this glimpse of infinity is what makes the arid wasteland so arresting.