“A rose-red city half as old as time,” poet John William Burgon has said of it in his 1845 Newdigate Prize winning poem Petra. Concealed from the rest of the world for many centuries before it was rediscovered by Swiss explorer Johann Ludwig Burckhardt in 1812, the ancient city of Petra stands out for its rock-cut architecture where old settlements, royal tombs, temples, and palaces were directly hewn out of massive rock walls.

Established by the Arab Nabataeans as their capital city as early as 312 BC, Petra showcases the construction and engineering skills of the Nabateans as evidenced by their ancient water irrigation designs modern engineers studied with admiration and emulated by present-day urban planners. Situated at the slopes of the biblical Mount Hor and surrounded by the mountains of Wadi Aqaba, Petra gives the impression of a city that completely grew out of the rocky mountains.

We started our brisk walk from the wide walkway enveloped by small hills dotted with royal tombs and ancient settlements. The further we went the narrower the path leading to the Treasury becomes. I savored each step, stopping to appreciate the glistening colorful walls. Not long after, we reached the part where the canyon becomes slender and the famous Siq would start. The Siq is a mile-long narrow gorge that features stunning rock-wall formations gleaming of dramatic rose-red and glittering golden hues when kissed by the seeping sunlight.

The dreamlike sensation of walking along the Siq presents the appropriate antecedent before one rests their eyes on Petra’s most elaborate ruin, the Al Khazneh or “the Treasury.”

Magically cleaved directly into a sandstone cliff, the well-preserved condition of the Treasury serves a visual banquet that lingers in your sight and summons you to just stare longer. I stood there in sheer awe, mesmerized by the façade, when a local Bedouin tapped me on my shoulder asking if I wanted to ride his camel for a photograph.

The Treasury is anything but related to the ancient Nabataeans’ finances. The Al Khazneh was originally constructed as a tomb during King Aretas IV Philopatris’ reign in 1st Century AD. The term “Treasury” originated from a legend when Bedouins fired multiple rounds of ammunition at the urn placed on top of the Al Khazneh, hoping to break and spill out the gold coins they believed was hidden inside the urn. They later found out to be made of solid sandstone and stores no secreted treasure.

The history of Petra runs far back and in wild fashion. It witnessed numerous passing of kingdoms and sustained the reigns of many kings under the Nabataeans to the Romans until its decline during the Byzantine era.

As centuries of bygone history still stood before us, I stared at the surrounding cave walls and the amphitheater impressively sculpted into a solid hillside sandstone wall. I made an attempt to imagine what it was like during the glorious years of Petra. I closed my eyes to briefly summon a vision of a lively city, where wives are peeking out of their homes calling their husband workers to take a break from axing and grinding the thick sandstone walls carving new tombs and temples. I was dwelling deeper into my imagination when a young Bedouin boy tugged at my hand. “Two dollars for postcards,” he tells me, while showing a bundle of 10 postcards. I said, “Sure, but let’s take a selfie first.” He held my hand and dragged me to a spot where the sun shone.

After taking a self-portrait together, I handed a two-dollar bill to the young Bedouin when he asked me “one dollar more for my school,” grinning. I handed another dollar to him before he happily walked away. What is one dollar more anyway, in a place where the ancient Nabataeans gave more than they could, their artistry, craftsmanship, courage, and a lot more, to build a city that remains long after their kingdoms have gone forever.

As we conclude our jaunt to Petra and started our walk back, I stopped along the Siq and touched the face of the outer wall and wondered what if the walls could talk. Then I started my walk again, through the history concealed and engraved at every corner of the Lost City of Petra.

How do you recall a trip with a special someone who is no longer in your life? As someone who now belongs to the plethora of people who came and went, leaving only traces of their presence? As a travel writer, I never abandon narrative because I need to write about a place I've visited in the past. In this case, a location where we spent the happiest chapter of our brief relationship. For better or worse, it entails digging with bitter overtones at fond memories.

I will always associate Nacpan Beach to the pinnacle of that wonderful epoch, however brief - a year and a half of countless dinners, lunches, church masses, and travels together. I'd say our El Nido trip highlighted the shared memories I had with her.

Putting her reminiscences aside and returning to Nacpan. I vividly recall the sun's glistening rays dancing across the fine sands of the beach. I spotted the marvelous spinning vision of its golden powdery shingles in the distance, long and curving. Soft and pure, it instantly buried a few centimeters of my feet after I walked over it. Even though we were only a day removed from our nearly week-long island-hopping excursion in El Nido, the place still surprised me with its laid-back elegance.

Hearing her giggling as we walked hand in hand, we came to a halt and stared at the setting sun. "Hurry, we have to climb that hill to watch the sunset," Chris, the friendly manager of Where-2-NextHostel - El Nido, summons us, pointing to a small hilltop that borders Nacpan and its twin beach, Calitang.

We picked up our pace when we came across two dogs lying on the sands; I whistled at them, and they stood up like obedient soldiers and followed us on our direction. We ran, and she giggled even louder. I exhaled heavily, and she gripped my hand even tighter. The scene unfolding at the time consisted of the sun slowly sinking into the horizon, surrounded by a trail of fiery golden sky. We took a hundred steps towards the top of the hill, led by Chris. We made our way through the tall grass to a small clearing where we could see El Nido Bay to our left and Base Bay to our right.

During the next few minutes, we watched as the outline of Labutaya Island faded into darkness from our perspective. "This is really lovely," she says. When Chris overhears it, he proudly proclaims, "I told you so." How many sunsets do I have to see before I realize that each one is unique? I was thinking to myself. Little did I know that this seemingly ordinary sundown we just witnessed would become a lasting image of a revered chapter in my life, which would soon flicker and fade away.

We always promised each other that we would travel more frequently - far and wide - to discover and explore fascinating things together. We acted like love-stuck fools running out of time. We did a pocket of trips together covering Northern Luzon to Bicol, Puerto Princesa, and Cebu in a short period of time. This, however, became the yardstick for future trips together. Island hopping from El Nido's pristine islands and hidden beaches to a two-hour journey with a side trip to Nacpan presented what could be the 'travel peg' of the future, if not forever.

Nacpan is a more relaxed beach than its twin, Calitang, where the majority of the bustling fishing community docks their boats and sails off every morning. The path leading here is anything but smooth, as it is located in Sitio Calitang and is nearly two hours' tricycle ride from El Nido town. Rough and dirt highways almost completely dominate the 17-kilometer stretch of road required to get here. The tattered journey, on the other hand, pales in comparison to the visual feast that awaits you upon arrival.

We started at Where-2-Next Hostel - El Nido, where we chose a tent and rested for an hour in the garden hammock. We began our exploration after eating lunch at one of the only two restaurants on Nacpan Beach. Under the scorching sun, we sought refuge under one of the many coconut trees that line the long shoreline. We observed a few locals as they passed us by, including fishermen docking their boats from a distance, wives carrying baskets full of coconut husks, and children frolicking in the water.

We also met a few travelers who arrived by motorbike from El Nido town with the intention of spending the entire afternoon gazing at the gorgeous blue waters of Nacpan beach. With an icy cold San Miguel beer in my hand, we rounded out the afternoon as true to the definition of 'chill.'

After watching the sunset, we spent the night talking with an Ethiopian traveler who had planned to stay in El Nido for a few days but ended up staying for a couple of weeks longer at Where-2-Next. "I've been moving from place to place for almost a year now; I deserve to be in one place for a longer period of time, and man, this place is just so relaxing, beautiful, almost isolated, and friendly." he says after a long conversation about travel that night. "Staying here longer is a no-brainer,"

"I love the hostel vibe because it's so much fun meeting other travelers like him," she says.

"When we go to Cambodia, we'll stay in hostels," I tell her. We made a lot of travel plans that night. I fell asleep beginning to think about what was to come.

"No wonder our new Ethiopian traveler friend stayed here for weeks more," I told her, forgetting the name of our new friend because it is an African name that I couldn't pronounce properly. "We could only if I didn't have a job back in Manila, but you can do that because you can work and write here," she says.

I intended to write about our entire El Nido trip as soon as I return home. A plan that never materialized until today, almost a year later. My recollections of our conversation that day seem to grind to a standstill. While the sun was scorching, the air emanating from Base Bay was both physically and metaphorically soothing. At the time, there was nothing serious or any indication of a schism unfolding. This was August of last year, three months to the day we went our separate ways.

The only sign of detachment at the time was when I went swimming alone in the azure waters while she lay down on the sand over a beach blanket and took pictures of me wearing only my boxer shorts. I can always hear her with her trademark giggling as she commands me to return to the gym.

As far as I recall, it was a lovely day. The skies couldn't be bluer, the water couldn't be clearer, and our love for each other couldn't be more sugary. I swam a few laps while watching her wave at me. I looked everywhere, from the sky above to my feet, where I saw small fishes, to back at her. All I saw was a reminder of a beautiful and happy world. Nacpan and its sister beach, Calitang, in the meantime, are both are hidden from hordes of tourists and protected from unregulated commercialization. Similar to how we felt about each other at the time; safe from the vultures of a failed romance and heartbreak.

I've moved on since our breakup, but I can't deny what a fantastic set of memories we shared during our weeklong trip to El Nido, Palawan.

CebuPacific Air flies multiple times to Puerto Princesa, Palawan. Nacpan Island is 5-6 hours away from Puerto Princesa and 1 and a half hours from El Nido town.