Philippines : Mile Post #8

We woke up at six a.m. so that we could pack our things, pay the owner for the accommodations, and hopefully procure a half-day tour. During our brief time downtown the previous evening, we ate, talked with acquaintances, and obtained tentative plans for a half-day tour started at seven thirty a.m. We would have five hours out on the water and be returned to town no later than one p.m.

Our plane flight was scheduled to leave at four p.m. A van was scheduled to pick us up at the hostel, at two p.m., to take us to the airport, located forty-five minutes away. We obviously learned our lesson and scheduled the van pick-up our first day in Coron.

The good news for the day was that the Coast Guard allowed tours to resume. At this time, I imagined our German friends, scheduled for a diving expedition at Apo Reef, were super excited that they would be able to complete the trips main attraction, having only been delayed for a day. Mini and Laura were also scheduled for this same voyage and I hope they all enjoyed themselves.

Standard construction in the Philippines. OSHA is an understandable/needed bureaucracy considering that this could easily be the alternative offered to construction workers

We ate a speedy breakfast and rushed down to the tour agency to be confronted by a shit-storm. Dozens of people, dozens of tours groups, were being simultaneously handled, in an utterly disorganized fashion. Our seven thirty tour began to be pushed further back on the schedule, back to eight, eight thirty, and eventually rumored to leave at nine. We were pretty pissed about being dicked around and the travel company was good enough to not charge us for our snorkel gear rental. They continued to make nonsensical excuses about the delay yet we could do nothing to expedite the situation, so we merely waited around.

Standing around at the dock, waiting for the boat

At eight thirty we were led to the waterfront, and waited around for another half hour before finally starting the tour. We'd taken a walk into the market, hoping to find souvenirs actually made in the Philippines, and returned to find our group getting ready to depart. The main guy dealing with us mentioned something about" low-tide" but his English wasn't good enough, or he didn't try hard enough, to explain the mysterious delay. As it turns out, low-tide did affect our boats position and produced some crazy currents that made snorkeling much more difficult than we'd experienced thus far, but it had nothing to do with the delay. I think the company simply was not able to handle the business volume; our peculiar situation allowed us to be at the back of the list. Either way, we finally took to the water, a group of four Filipina's from Manila accompanying us. Originally we were told that the entire group would be out for a half day adventure but apparently this wasn't the case. These girls were scheduled to be out all day, including paying extra for additional stops. I feel bad that we caused their trip to be impeded/altered by our limited schedule. An email from them, received after arriving home, mentioned they enjoyed the trip and I am relieved by the news.

The Land of Islands

I feel the urge to re-read Robinson Crusoe, or at the very least watch Robinson Crusoe on Mars, a movie I have yet to see. From the previews though, I think I should record my viewing of this film, and subsequent comments, as a modern Mystery Science Theater 3000 rendition.

Our hostess' were extremely kind and let us pick our destinations of choice during the brief coupling. The first stop, labeled Twin Peaks, was chosen for obvious reasons. We were hoping to see midgets, red curtains, and a "fish in the percolator".

At this point, I must credit Dacota for his spectacular photographs of the day. Having dropped the ball, horribly, I chose to thrust on him the responsibility of documentation while I checked out whatever life I could find.

A thirty + pound monstrosity

While at Siete Pecados two days earlier, I swam near the drop-off shelf and saw what looked to be a mini shark. My guess is that I mistook a large barracuda or some fish as a shark but, either way, I swam along the drop-off hoping to see something cool. Actually I hoped to see a turtle most of all but regret to inform the reader that I failed at such a task. While looking into "the deep" I saw a huge fish, the biggest fish I'd seen thus far. The music of Jaws popped into my head. It was too murky to get a detailed look and, I must admit, I was too nervous to swim out to greet it. Perhaps next time I get the opportunity, I'll take the shot, or, speaking of shots, maybe liquid courage would have sent me free-diving after this big boy. Fortunately, we were able to capture a photo of it, at max zoom, while leaving the area forty minutes later.

Re-emerging life

As mentioned before, the majority of the snorkeling areas near Coron are now protected. Life is beginning to return after years of over-fishing and destructive practices. This is great news for future adventures though, for every year should offer better and better scenes.

Sea Urchins

This actually reminds me of another good point to help explain my previously bad documenting. (Although the rumor is that the Germans have my contact information and thus, might actually be able to get me the excellent pictures they took) Unlike El Nido, sea urchins grew in mass near Coron and Coron Island, and one must be very careful to avoid their barbed spikes. Another poor excuse for the failed documentation; I'd love to prove my claim that we saw "fields of living coral" but will have to wait patiently for the evidence.

Rainbowish coral

 My knowledge of coral life is lacking; however, this was the only rainbow-colored coral picture that I could dredge up from the archives. The others we saw glowed as if radioactive and were absolutely astonishing.

Fish are just too cute!

After forty minutes at this spot, we returned to our boat and chose to visit a lake rumored for its beauty. This lake, located on the interior of a small island, was both large and, surprisingly, composed of fresh water.

Dacota's "sexy" pose

The girls all, individually, posed for pictures at the front of the boat. How could we not represent? So we joined in the fun and this is pretty representative of the shots taken.

The small harbor

This island was a very touristed spot, a dozen bancas were parked and their captains cooked lunches for the guests while they swimming. The smell of salt water mixed with cooking meat, fish, pork, and chicken; the omnivorous reader's mouth should be salivating. These folks excelled at cooking meat and, given a different life choice, I could see myself being in heaven here. We climbed a few hundred steps, and then descended a few hundred steps, the view opening up into a pristine and beautiful inland lake. We weren't sure what to expect but both had to admit that this place was exceptionally cool.

Eye level vantage

The majority of the people swam in the shallow area, where as, Dacota and I, equipped with snorkel gear, wanted to find majestic underwater scenery. Since our intention differed from the other people's, we encountered nobody during our excursion. The photograph does not even remotely capture the beauty of the cliff faces that erupted out of the water nor the intimacy felt in this secluded lake.

A small example

This lake, and its unique beauty, was extremely difficult to photograph. The intricate, and acutely sharp, spikes and rock formations suggested that during the islands construction, viscous magma created these underwater anomalies. Although the rock walls, above water line, offered some detail, the underwater scenery gave hints of alien landscapes.

The fish life found

We still hoped to photograph fish but this lake, to our immediate observation, only sported these sharp-nosed fish and a brown, nondescript fish species. We swam between various sides of the lake, a feat taking over five minutes, and the void was eerie. Opaque blue water was all one could see and a true feeling of isolation allowed me to further understand why our species creates horror tales about the water -- why H.P. Lovecraft's writings speak so vividly to our unconscious minds.

We did not venture to the remote areas of the lake, which rounded a bend and continued at a quarter mile, because we were still hoping to visit another ocean spot before our deadline caused us to return and end the voyage.

While descending the stairs towards the harbor

The girls were up for taking off and we headed back. After Dacota and I reached the harbor, we looked around puzzled that the girls were not coming. We waited a bit, becoming slightly concerned that they might have slipped on one of the slick rocks, and were glad to see them eventually make it down. Although the picture featured above is nice, apparently there is an overlook which offers unimpeded vantages; an overlook visited by the girls, hence the few minute delay. I'm sure their photos were spectacular.

Back on the boat we suggested a return trip to the Siete Pecados, as it was an option for them to take, and we hoped to find our coral fields once again. So we set off, engine buzzing away, wind kissing our faces.

Mount Dalara

If the reader expands this image and looks dead-center, s/he will see a communications tower. This is Mount Dalara, a point we reached at midnight, after a two hour hike, a few nights earlier.

We reached the Siete Pecados stop and looked around. This was not the same place, or rather, not the same section of the area known as the Siete Pecados. Seven islands composed the area and we could not see the area we'd explored the previous day. Hoping that we would be able to see the same abundant live coral, we hopped in.

Lots of fish without the living coral

Instantly we knew that this would not yield the same coral beauty. We were dismayed for about thirty seconds until a very long sea krait came into view. One major reason we wished to return to this area was because Harold and Thomas photographed a sea krait, so experimental evidence hinted that it was possible to find them here.

Sea Krait

This snake was over five feet long and swimming next to it was somewhat unsettling. Although it gave no intention that we were even noticed, kraits are extremely venomous. As we watched this majestic herp swim about, we glanced around and saw four other krait, all swimming near the stairs that lead down from the boat. The girls were just about to make their way into the water when a baby krait, about a foot and a half, swam next to where their feet were about to step down. I held onto the girl's foot, so that she did not step down, and came up to tell them that a few snakes were around and they might want to wait a minute before jumping in. None of these girls wished to mess with the sea snakes and were happy when, a few minutes later, the snakes left. While they went about their snorkeling, we continued to follow the kraits.

Stunning!

During our pursuit, we noticed the powerful current in the straight. We swam, like our lives depended on it, to move against the current but the kraits eventually outdistanced us. We continued our push but after some time I called of the search, muscles sore already from the hard push in the oceans natural "Infinity Pool". We were swept back to the boat and dinked around for a while longer.

Colorful fish

Enoki Mushrooms?

We attempted to describe the area we wished to visit to the boat captain and one of the girls kindly translated our request. He claimed he knew the spot and we all reloaded the boat, and moved forward. The engines cut out and we still were not at the correct spot. Low-tide made it impossible to continue further. Apparently, around an island "up ahead", we could find our desired area. The clock already read past noon and we rushed forward. The current here, once again, was strong, and after twenty minutes, we realized the futility of our efforts to reach the desired area, given the time constraints. So we turned back. During these minutes of struggle, photographs of the area were taken.

Blue Coral

Alien eggs?

Fish message?

 Time was ticking and we needed to drop the girls off on a famed beach, so that they might eat their lunch while the captain took us back to Coron. So we headed towards the desired island.

Beautiful

 As we came up the beach area, the previous tour group departed and the only boat in the area belonged to an old fisherman, who fished using snorkel gear and hands compared to lines or traps.

Old Filipino fisherman

We talked with the girls while the captain prepared a delicious looking meal. Fish, he'd smoked while he were snorkeling, and various other traditional Filipino dishes were decorated with flowers in a manner suggesting a fancy restaurant and not a beach picnic.

Saying good-bye

I am very much appreciative of the good attitude that these girls sported. If I'd spent good money on a day's tour and was abandoned on a beach, so that two demanding passengers could be transported back to the main land, I would probably be pissed off. But they, I presume, happily ate a delicious looking meal on a secluded beach in the middle of paradise.

We arrived back in town at one-forty p.m. and quickly made our way back to the hostel. We packed away our day-packs, readying our gear for the upcoming flight. At two fifteen p.m., the van had yet to arrive. We paced back and forth, and questioned the hostel's employee about what was wrong. He made several phone calls and, grabbing a bike, sped off without saying a word. We paced back and forth, two-thirty, two thirty- five, damn! we were going to miss our plane at this rate. Tension was building. The employee returned and claimed a van was coming. I'm not sure what the problem was, but I believe he got us a seat on a different transport. Within five minutes, a van arrived, we threw our stuff inside and he took off. We rode for a few minutes, becoming even more worried because the van was to make a detour to pick up additional guests. A few minutes later, a group of eight people stood outside a fancy looking hotel and boarded the van, fortunately in amazing time. We, once again, told the driver of our deadline and he claimed it would be "no problem" to reach the airport on time. He held true to his word and flew down the roads, passing people and only slowing down when we hit sections of dirt road, or questionably built wooden bridges. Sure enough though, he got us to the airport in less than an half an hour, giving us thirty minutes until our plane was to depart.

Busuanga airport

The line at this small airport was longer than I expected, running out the door, roughly thirty people were before us in the queue. Signs discussing what one could, and could not bring through security, included mangos. Apparently, some mango weevil was extremely noxious and mangos were not allowed to leave the island. An initial bag check/pat down, ended quick enough and we were ushered forward. Two kiosks existed in the converted plane hanger, for it truly was a converted hanger and not a designed airport building, with one kiosk amost empty and the other having a line of fifty waiting. We were brought forward to the near empty kiosk, being one of the last people to check into our flight, and had no problems getting tickets. We, once more, went through security and sat down to wait for the plane, which somehow was not already here and boarded, because it was four p.m. An announcement, unnecessarily loud, informed us that our flight on PAL Airlines, and the Cebu Pacific flight were both delayed in Manila and would be arriving an hour late. So, all the stress to arrive on-time was unnecessary. If only we'd known! As we looked around we recognized some faces,  Dacota spotted Susan, the girl who talked with at the curry restaurant a few minutes before. They spoke until the planes arrived while I chilled out drinking water. Oh yeah, security allowed me to bring a liter of water through inspection.

One thing they did not mess with was threats or jokes about airline security. Airport, replete with posters of a recent presidential mandate, warned that it is against the law to make any jokes or comments about air travel/safety and, if violated, one could potentially end up in prison. A scary thought considering where we were.

Various travel blogs hinted that "nothing ever arrives on-schedule" and I have to reiterate the message for people wishing to travel to the Philippines. It is quite true; somewhat refreshing because of the calm mentality that comes from the organizers of events but somewhat dismaying because you cannot pack a trip into minute-by-minute plans.

Good-bye Busuanga. We had a great time

Manila to Coron is only a forty five minute flight and we found ourselves in Manila airport with three hours to kill. I can use this expression, now, because we are not in the Philippines. As we departed the plane, two Korean girls (we'd over heard them say their country of origin in Busuanga when the security guard said, "Ni Hao" and they said "We aren't Chinese!...") were close by and I tried to ask them about their trip. Dacota, meanwhile, said "farewell' to Susan and we walked down the terminal with the Koreans. I wanted to ask them about the quality of the Korean food we'd eaten in Coron, for it was the best I'd ever tried, and started talking with the girl in the black hat.

Our Korean friends

As I launched into some long-winded question, she smiled and nodded, as if understanding my meaning. When, and I repeat WHEN!, I was finished, her friend mentioned that she, the girl I'd been talking AT, did not speak English very well and didn't understand what I was saying. Ah! It was so weird; she gave off all signals that she was understanding me and I felt like a fool. Either way, we managed some broken conversation, telling them about our trip, about our lives in Taiwan, and they talked about their jobs, about meeting in college, and also about their trip in the Philippines. The girl in the black hat is some kind of exercise teacher whereas I cannot remember the other's occupation. They were really nice and told us where we could find our international terminal in Manila. It turns out, that they remember seeing us at the hot-spring. In fact, various people during the trip since our eleven hour soak, remembered seeing us and it allowed a good conversation topic. The girl in the white hat was with her family and was staying in Manila for a few nights while the girl in the black hat was returning to Korea. We departed with a photo and Dacota and I found our way into the long ticketing lines. I meant to give them my contact information, so that I would have contacts in Korea if I chose to visit, but did not see them again after finally obtaining a pen.

In hindsight, we should have waited until the mad rush of Chinese tourists was over, but we did not wait and and watched hordes of people around us. Perhaps people were too tired for their vacation but they let their chilrden run screaming about, they talked loudly to each other, and didn't prepare the needed documents to obtain their boarding passes, resulting in an airline employee filing out the needed information and causing major delays. Finally we obtained our boarding passes and went to find some kind of food available to us. Airports are an example of where supply and demand, and free-market capitalism, fail. Lots of demand, little supply, and the supply is shit!

Taking the opportunity to be photographed with a security guard

Our flight left at ten and we waited around for a few hours at the airport, trying to curb our boredom. A rumored terminal fee, not part of our original ticket fee, made us unable to exchange our few remaining pesos for Taiwan dollars. We would be arrive in Taiwan at one a.m. and didn't think an exchange would be open. A fifty peso fee as charged in Busuanga and we didn't anticipate, but fortunately had enough money!, the 1200 peso feet that Manila charges. That is about thirty USD and was completely unexpected. That killed off our remaining money pretty fast. The airport was so cold it could have easily been our contribution to the HVAC system. Seriously, it was cold! For those traveling through Manila, be warned of hidden fees and frigid temperatures.

We arrived in Taiwan at one a.m. A very weird old expat, living in Taipei, sat next to us on the plane and he and Dacota chatted while I tried to fall asleep. He talked about the pretty girls in the Philippines but also about his long-time girlfriend in Taipei, making it sound as though he did what a lot of gross old men do in S.E. Asia, visit the country so they might buy prostitutes. The insane price of living in Taipei allowed him to make three times the wage of Dacota while not seeing a dime of different. Just another reason, in an ever growing list, that makes the metropolis undesirable.

Taoyuan airport is inaccessible after midnight, or earlier, and one must take a taxi or wait until six a.m., for the buses begin to run. We waited around for the bus, since all of our "extra" money was given to airport fees, Dacota making conversation with a kid named Tommy from the mainland, and I sat next to a crusty old expat. This old man had lived in Taiwan for going on fifteen years and could speak Chinese as well as I can. If a similar situation were to take place in the States, people would be outraged. This bitter old man sat drinking Heineken beers until his bus, that was leaving to Taitung city, arrived. Why this bus ran so late is a mystery but he was the only one making it out using this method. Several cab drivers came in and asked outrageous prices to shuttle the three of us to the train station so that we could take the five a.m. train to Hualien. Two a.m. came around, and a taxi driver comes in and offers us a decent rate, ten usd less a person, to take us to the train station if he could first take two other passengers to their homes. We obviously accepted, and rode around the maze of Taipei, dropping off two middle-age Taiwanese ladies. While we rode to the train station, Dacota, Tommy, and the cabby talked. Apparently, the cabby had never driven white foreigners for less than a thousand Taiwan dollars. I'm glad we were the exception! We left Tommy, walked across the deserted, three lane road, jumped the medium barricade, and crossed the other three lanes, a feat impossible during the day, and looked around to see various people sleeping in front, in door ways, or on benches, outside the station. Some were transients, some were homeless, some were people, like us, simply waiting for the station to open. We waited outside for an hour and a half before the doors opened to the station.

Purchasing tickets, we found our way to the correct portal and allowed the machine to take our tickets, for us to enter. But wait, I was mistaken, the machine did not take your ticket but only scanned the ticket and a rider was supposed to pick up the ticket on the other side of the carousel. Shit! I ran back but my ticket was not there. We had fifteen minutes before the train was to arrive and I didn't have my ticket. Dacota rushed back to the ticket counter, hoping to obtain a different ticket for me, and, after a few minutes, a uniformed worker came over. I tried to explain what happened and he found my eaten ticket, in a bin easily accessible if I'd known what to look for, beneath the area my ticket was to reappear. Dacota came into view and had apparently requested assistance. This guy, not scheduled to be working for another fifteen minutes, had come to the rescue.  Thanks guy!

The train showed up five minutes later, and we high-tailed it back to Hualien. This was apparently the fast, fast train and only took two and a half hours to arrive in Hualien, almost fifty percent faster than the train we'd taken from Hualien to Taipei a week previous. Sleep did not come, but only a dozy drifting. We'd only had three hours of sleep, the previous night, some thirty hours ago, yet we
couldn't find the dreamland.

Walking home from the train station takes about fifteen minutes and we stopped for fan tuan on the way. The sky was overcast and the temperature felt cold, compared to the Philippines at least. It was too early to rescue Dapple from her confinement, so we napped until noon. Finding a restaurant was difficult, as most were closed down for Chinese New Year, but eventually we found a spot. After food we picked up our little princess. She was super excited about returning home and howled the entire walk home.

Dapple happy to be home!

We spent the rest of the day napping, catching up on events that transpired outside of our week-long hiatus, and playing with Dapple. She remained sweet up until a few days ago when her normal destructive self returned.

Thus concludes the adventure. Much of the richness of the trip is lost due to my inability or unwillingness to describe events in further detail but I hope these writings will serve to remind me of the idiosyncrasies of the adventure.  I highly recommend a visit to the Philippines. Overall, I'd think that other places in South East Asia offer comparable landscapes, diving, swimming, hiking, flora and fauna life, food (probably better food actually), and nice people but can honestly say that I doubt anyone would be disappointing with a visit there.

My many thanks go out to the various people who enriched our trip. I hope that the diverse life paths they individual walk upon will be abundant in happiness and joy.