For years, my friends and I have cherished our annual pilgrimage to West 35 in Balamban. It's been a tradition steeped in our love for nature, long drives, and the refreshing embrace of cool, breezy air. However, our visit last August of 2023 left us disheartened and questioning the future of this once-beloved destination.
As we arrived, we were met with a shocking reality: everything, from water to Wi-Fi access, now came with a price tag. The very essence of what made West 35 a sanctuary for nature enthusiasts seemed to have been commercialized beyond recognition.
Gone were the days of leisurely strolls through lush greenery without a care in the world. Instead, we found ourselves navigating a landscape where every step seemed to incur a fee. It begged the question: How long can a business sustain itself when it commodifies even the most basic elements of its appeal?
Amidst these changes, one aspect managed to stand out – the food. Despite the disappointments elsewhere, we found solace in the culinary offerings of West 35. From local delicacies to comfort food favorites, the flavors spoke to our palates and provided a glimmer of the experience we once knew.
Yet, as we savored each bite, we couldn't shake the feeling of unease. While the food provided a momentary distraction, it wasn't enough to mask the underlying concerns about the direction in which West 35 was headed. How long could a business thrive by monetizing every aspect of its appeal, we wondered.
The beauty of West 35 lay not only in its natural splendor but also in the sense of freedom and connection it once offered. It was a place where visitors could escape the constraints of modern life and immerse themselves in the simplicity of the great outdoors. Yet, with each passing year, it seems this essence is slipping away, replaced by a profit-driven model that prioritizes revenue over experience.
While change is inevitable, it's disheartening to witness a place we held dear succumb to such drastic alterations. As lovers of nature, we hope for a return to the values that once made West 35 a haven for all who sought solace in its embrace. Until then, we'll hold onto cherished memories of simpler times and continue our quest to find sanctuaries that remain untainted by the pressures of commercialization.
In the end, West 35 serves as a cautionary tale, reminding us of the delicate balance between preserving natural beauty and succumbing to the temptations of profit. Let us hope those in charge recognize the value of what they hold and strive to protect it for generations to come.
I've crafted a blog post capturing the sentiment of disappointment and concern over the commercialization of a beloved natural destination. If you need further adjustments or have specific preferences, feel free to let me know!
