Week 78 - Alona Beach, Manila, Donsol, Sorsogon (Philippines)

Tim was up again to dive near Pamilican Island and left us in the room to sleep off the previous nights rum. We finally rolled out of the room at lunchtime in search of something to eat. We had a mediocre meal at L’Elephant Bleu before wandering back to the room. Tim met us there after having an afternoon dive on the house reef and other than another BBQ dinner on the beach we had the day off, not feeling too bad about wasting the day since it was dismal and rainy.

Refreshed and with better weather forecast we woke the following day and headed down with Tim to the dive shop. As he had already planned to spend half the day diving at Balicasag we decided to join him on the dive boat to snorkel for a bargain price of £4 each. We stopped at two different sites close to the island. The first was spectacular, the coral was beautiful and there were so many fish, all so brightly coloured, that it felt like we were swimming in an aquarium. We spotted a couple of turtles swimming near the drop off before heading back to the boat to go pick up the divers. The second spot had a strong current. Being the only snorkelers, me and Rhys were dropped off and the boat continued to the pick up point. We were swept along at such a speed that it was hard to stop and appreciate how beautiful it was. By the time we got back to the boat, having seen a huge turtle chilling at the bottom being cleaned, we were shattered. Although Tim had problems equalising on his first dive, he loved the second dive and put it up there as one of his favourite spots of the last month, having been surrounded by turtles and barracuda.

Rhys enjoying the view from the front of the dive boat, Balicasag, Alona Beach.

Tim diving, Balicasag, Alona Beach.

Snorkeling, Balicasag, Alona Beach.

Back in Alona, we grabbed lunch before me and Tim headed to the beach for a very painful massage/assault. That night, after a third night of beach BBQ, we ended up back at the same bar where we’d spent our first night. One of the dive instructors from our boat ended up joining us and the night turned in to another messy one. We had Rhys posing on the bar, a permanent marker and Tim as DJ. Being at least a little sensible, me and Rhys headed off about 1am leaving Tim to continue with Barry the dive instructor until the early hours.

We all felt a little worse for wears when we woke and weren’t too happy with the early start that saw us in a taxi and headed to Tagbilaran airport, 30 minutes away. We checked in and took a seat to wait for our delayed plane to arrive - we’ve learned that domestic planes will be delayed by at least an hour here. Back in Manila we took a taxi to the hostel. Having received a text from Rhodri (Rhys’s brother) to say his plane was on time, we figured we had 2 hours to drop off our bags and grab some lunch before we had to be back at the airport. As soon as we’d checked in, we checked Rhodri’s flight just to find out he was over an hour early and had already landed. We sprinted out of the hostel and tried to hail a cab, failing and with Rhys in a slight panic we luckily managed to find a private taxi that would take us to the airport for twice the normal price. When we arrived Rhodri was already outside waiting for us. 

After taking Rhodri back to the hostel, we dropped off our bags and headed straight for MacDonalds before walking down Bonifacio High Street. Tim drooled over some expensive shoes before we wandered to Market! Market! (again). By the time we walked back to the hostel we were all pretty tired. We had a beer on the roof terrace, ate some BBQ pork skewers and went to bed in our 12 bed dorm. We had the most inconsiderate room mates, a guy eating hot noodles in his bed and doing his washing in the laundry room, letting out all the aircon cold air and people rolling in at all hours and turning on the light positioned directly over my top bunk bed.

We all woke up tired still from the bad nights sleep but had an early flight. We arrived at the airport and were happy to find out we were in Terminal 3, the newest terminal. We were only happy though until we saw the queue to check in, it took over an hour and it was last call by the time we got to the front of the queue. As always the flight was delayed by an hour and we spent 20 minutes sitting on the runway waiting to take off. The flight was short and by the time we reached altitude we were on our way back down. 

On landing we saw the Pili Nut Hills from the plane (very similar to the Chocolate Hills in Bohol but smaller) and Mount Mayon. Even from the plane, Mayon was breathtaking, it’s the most perfect conical volcano and rises 2,463 metres, towering over the city of Legazpi. It’s one of the most active volcanoes in the Philippines, last erupting in May 2013. We’d hoped to hike to the top but found out that that the sulphur levels meant you could only climb to camp 1, barely a third of the way up. We didn’t have time to stop and admire it for long and jumped in a tricycle to the bus station. We hid under the cover waiting for a minivan to Donsol while a tropical rainstorm bucketed down around us.

Despite Rhodri and Tim being squashed into the front seats with all the bags the trip was quick and painless. Once in Donsol, we jumped in a tricycle to the waterfront and the visitor centre where we piled up the bags. Me and Tim stood guard while Rhys and Rhodri headed off to find accommodation. They came back having found a beachside resort with little bungalows and we found another tricycle to take us to the reception. Other than a walk along the beach (I walked, the boys swam), and a beer at a beach bar, we had a quiet afternoon. We had arranged with our tricycle driver from earlier to pick us up just after dark to take us to a bridge in town where we could see fireflies. We were assigned a boat and headed out. It was a little different to Palawan, we motored out a long way and then stopped by one tree. It was so so beautiful, imagine being out on a really dark night and stumbling across a tree strewn with more Christmas lights than you could ever imagine, mixed with a fire with sparks floating off into the sky. On the way back we stopped and our guide caught one firefly for Rhys to hold so we could see it up close and then the rain started and we headed back. We ate at our resort and turned in for an early night, Tim had come down with a bad chest infection and Rhodri was yet to recover from the flight.

How to fit four western sized people on a tricycle, Rhodri and Tim on our way back from the fireflies, Donsol.

The next morning we were up and ready to head out on the boat to see the whale sharks, Tim was feeling really under the weather and stayed in the room. We got to the visitor centre just to find out that the coast guard wasn’t permitting any boats to go out that day. We had a coffee on the sea wall while watching the rain come in and ducked into a restaurant on the beach for a breakfast pancake. Rhys spoke to our favourite tricycle driver and arranged for him and Rhodri to be picked up at 11am to go to the cockfighting. I didn’t want to go along as I really don’t agree with blood sports but Rhys was intrigued because it plays such a big part of their lives out here. Everywhere you go you see men raising their cockerels and preparing for their fights. Not only do they stand to earn a lot of money but it’s a massive social event, like spending an afternoon watching the football in the pub. They ended up paying for the tricycle driver, Yang, to go in with them and he took them around and explained what was going on. They were only there for an hour before heading back to the room. Leaving Tim to snooze in the room we ate at a local restaurant across the road and spent the afternoon chilling. 

The cockerel doctor at the cock fighting, Donsol.

We were up with the alarms again the next day for another chance of seeing whale sharks. We were all a bit done with the early starts but nevertheless, we walked to the visitor centre by 7am, leaving Tim in bed, and were told the boats were going out. Excited, we paid our registration, watched the orientation video and waited for the other people assigned to our boat to turn up. We boarded and within 5 minutes our guide was telling us to get ready, we put on our fins and snorkels, stripped down to our swim wear and sat on the front of the boat. Three hours later and a couple of sightings and we’d not had the call to get into the water once. We were cold from the rain and a little deflated and thought we were heading back to the pier. I even put my snorkel away. Then, 5 minutes before we would have been back on shore we got the shout. We took our positions and before we knew what was happening were jumping off the moving boat. 

After orientating and untangling ourselves we all swam towards the shadow. Visibility was very poor and before I realised what was happening the shark passed underneath, about a metre from the surface. We were all so happy to have finally seen one and got back into the boat with adrenaline pumping. Then we got the call again. This time we were a little better prepared and when the shout came we swam towards the shadow and found the shark (Rhodri actually had to shout to Rhys and pull him out of the sharks path), sprinting to keep up with it for a short while. Another two sharks later (or another two sightings of the same shark) and we were shattered, it really takes it out of you with the chaos of getting to the shark, the swim to keep up and then the swim back to the boat. A much better experience than Oslob all up,

Back on land we walked back to the room and had 20 minutes to shower and check out. We ate lunch at our resort before grabbing tricycles into Donsol town. We found a jeepney that took us back to the main road (sitting on the roof), and then a bus to take us the rest of the way to Sorsogon. Leaving Rhys and Rhodri with the bags at the bus station, me and Tim headed in to town to find out information on hiking up Bulusan Volcano. The tourist information office was a tiny desk in a back room and although we met the officer for Bulusan, and Tim had a phone conversation with some woman called Debbie, we realised that we just didn’t have enough time to organise a hike with the severe lack of information. We walked along the main street and found a decent room and went back to pick up the boys. The weather was terrible and we ended up paddling to dinner at a posh pizza restaurant.

We woke the next day with the weather slightly improved. Me and Rhys walked back to the tourist office to see if we could find information on renting a car for the day. Another random phone call and we gave up. Next we tried another hotel, Fernandos. Although the rooms were too expensive for us the lady who runs it was incredibly friendly and helpful and she managed to arrange a car with a driver to pick us up in half an hour. Back at the room we collected Rhodri and Tim, played with the loopy dogs (nicknamed Rhys and Rhodri and no Rhodri, that’s not their real names but that was real rain last night...) and walked back to meet our driver. Johnny wasn’t particularly chatty but he did know the area and we spent the next 7 hours driving around stopping at beaches, churches, the Bulusan National Park and hot springs. Although we couldn’t see the actual volcano, the lake in the national park was pretty and with a completely unnecessary guide, we walked around the concrete path (no Rhodri, it’s not a bat, it’s a butterfly..!) to complete a 45 minute loop. The hot springs were one of the highlights of the day. We drove up a rocky track and came to a resort in the forest with three pools, we ate a simple lunch in the canteen then spent an hour swimming in the springs. 

The 'guided' hike around Bulusan Lake.

Church in Barcelona, on our day trip from Sorsogon.

Enjoying the hot springs, near Irosin, Sorsogon.

After a stop in Bacon for a beer on the beach, we drove back in to town. Rhys skipped dinner and I wandered out with Tim and Rhodri just as the rain started. We ended up ducking into a sports bar and ordering food there which turned out to be a great choice. Rhodri’s flight and hectic work schedule at home had finally caught up with him and he decided to leave our four person room with the jet engine aircon and flooded bathroom and checked into a posher hotel down the road.

Bacon beach, Sorsogon.

Week 77 - Siquijor, Loboc, Anda, Panglao Island (Philippines)

Tim headed out to dive leaving me and Rhys in bed in our luxurious apartment. It had rained most of the night and was still raining when we woke. After a lazy start, Rhys walked down the road to rent a scooter from one of the hundreds of places on our street. We packed up a picnic lunch and started out with our hand drawn map. Signposts on Siquijor are few and far between and although there’s only one main, 74km long road circling the island, there are plenty of turn-offs and none of the supposed highlights are on the main road. We got delightfully lost in the south of the island, cruising around the villages, stopping for lunch at a small beach, before joining back with the main road and heading to Lazi. Lazi is only a small town but has an old convent and a wood and coral church, nothing mind blowing but pretty. From Lazi it was only a short jaunt to the Cambugahay waterfall. The waterfalls are a series of cascades, not tall but very scenic, surrounded by jungle and forming bright blue pools coloured by the limestone. We ran into the group we’d been drinking with the previous night and Rhys jumped in to swim. 

Rhys jumping into the pools at Cambugahay Falls, Siquijor.

Next, we tried to find Kagasua Beach, after missing the turning and touring a couple more villages we finally found the right track, parked the bike and walked down to the sea. It wasn’t the picturesque bay we’d been led to believe, lots of seaweed and, a bit disturbingly, a couple of men who dived behind boats when they saw us. Feeling a bit on edge, for the first time since Manila, we headed back up to make a quick exit. Back on the main road we headed to Salagdoong Beach, again a bit of a let down, more like a 60’s Butlin’s with extremely bad karaoke at full volume and some broken water slides. We stayed there all of 10 minutes before continuing our loop of the island, trying to keep one step ahead of the rain, to Paliton Beach near San Juan, a nice secluded cove with white sand but again, not the paradise we’d hoped for. Back at our room we found Tim and stopped by the bar. A Dutch couple we’d met on the ferry from Oslob to Dumaguete were there and Rhys arranged to meet them later for a drink at their hostel. Me and Tim decided to make the most of having a nice room and turned in for the night for cups of tea, TV and book reading. Rhys rolled in at 1am having had a nice night with a good group of people and lots of rum.

View of one of the many bays we discovered while out on the scooter, Siquijor.

We woke again to more rain. Tim had enjoyed the diving the previous day despite it being a bit chilly and the visibility not being the best because of the weather, and headed out again. Me and Rhys spent the morning enjoying our huge veranda before deciding to take the scooter out again to see if we could find the dairy where we could buy fresh yoghurt. Failing in our mission we continued until we came across a big, 400 year old tree and stopped for a quick photo. On our way back to San Juan we thought we’d turn off the main road and see if we could make a loop back to the hotel in land. We ended up completely lost, winding our way through the mountains along little tracks cut through the jungle. With the clouds sitting low and the mist swirling around the trees it was quite magical. Despite Siquijor being touted as a centre for witch craft and healers, this was the closest we got to anything remotely mystical. We ended up on the opposite side of the island. Before parking up we made a detour to a road side stall selling fish where Rhys bought a mackerel sized flying fish. After a few drinks on the veranda, Tim gave us a fish filleting lesson and cooked up the fish. 

Sunset in San Juan, outside our apartment, Siquijor.

The ferry to Bohol wasn’t due to leave port until 2:30pm so we had the morning to chill and use the beach. I woke to blue skies and left the boys in bed to snorkel in the sea out front. It was a bit of an error. The tide was a long way out and it was only knee deep for about the first 100m yet littered with seaweed, sea urchins, star fish and jelly fish.

Enjoying a window of good weather on the beach outside our apartment, Siquijor.

Locals preparing sea urchins on the beach in San Juan, Siquijor.

When we left for the port we had a line of tricycles waiting to pounce on us, we jumped in one and headed back to Siquijor Town. The ticket buying process was convoluted involving a long queue and scraps of paper but before long we were onboard and on our way. The sea was pretty rough and the first hour of the journey, back to Dumaguete was so rough it felt like we were on a roller coaster, Rhys gets sea sick so stayed outside on deck holding on for dear life while we and Tim got thrown about inside whilst watching horrifically bad movies.

We pulled in to Tagbilaran, Bohol, 45 minutes late, after dark. As we didn’t want to waste too much time faffing about finding the bus station and working out the right bus, we found a minivan to take us directly to Loboc, to Nuts Huts (or Muts Nuts, something like that). After dropping us at the main road we had to walk a kilometre down a very rocky track and descend hundreds of stairs before we found out it was fully booked. The kind lady at reception called ahead to another spot and arranged a motorbike to collect us. As we were there we stopped for dinner before lugging our bags back up the stairs to the awaiting bike. One by one we climbed on, with our luggage and headed to Hill Top Cottages. With the darkness and the bad state of the track it was a pretty rough ride and we were glad to make it to the main road safely. Although Tim’s bed was only a thin piece of mattress on the floor, the room was decent and there was a pool. 

The next morning we’d arranged for motorbikes for the day. After Tim gave Rhys a quick lesson on riding a semi-automatic, we headed out. We pointed our bikes in the direction of the chocolate hills and sped along to the main view point. After winding up to the carpark we walked up the stairs to the peak. The chocolate hills are a bizarre quirk of nature where coral deposits from millions of years ago have pushed up to form peaks which were then eroded to their present appearance. The 1,268 hills spread out as far as the eye can see, an impressive sight. Back at the bikes Tim realised his keys were missing. He started to retrace his steps to the view point when one of the guys offering motorbike rides called over having found them. Relieved, we returned to the bike, Tim put his camera away in the compartment under the seat and closed and locked the lid, just to realise the key was missing again, this time it had fallen off the keyring and was in the locked box under the seat. A bit of muscle power and Tim worked out he could prise the seat open enough for me to get my arm in and retrieve the key. All up, a tense 10 minutes. 

The chocolate hills, from the main view point, Bohol.

Rhys and Tim on the bikes in the chocolate hills, Bohol.

Back on the bikes and laughing at Tim’s stupidity we headed off again to complete a loop that would take us back in the direction of the Tarsier Sanctuary, winding through the chocolate hills. We continued through the rice paddies nestled at the base of the hills to Sagbayan Peak, a weird park with dinosaur statues, a small tarsier sanctuary and a tiny butterfly enclosure that we skipped. It was very odd and just before we went in I managed to do the Asia backpacker special of burning my leg on the bike exhaust. Out of the park we continued until we hit the coast where we rode on to Tagbilaran, a much longer ride than we’d anticipated, stopping on route at the Punta Cruz Watchtower before racing back to Loboc in search of the famous Tarsier Sanctuary. As Bohol, like Siquijor, lacks signposts we ended up missing the turning and before we knew it, were back in Loboc with bums too sore from a day on the bikes to continue any further. 

Tarsier, Bohol.

Tim enjoying his ride around Bohol.

One of the most striking things we noticed while exploring were the effects of the earthquake. Unlike the typhoon that destroyed the mostly wooden buildings in northern Negros and Cebu, knocking over trees and electric cables, in Bohol it was the concrete buildings and infrastructure that saw the most damage. The earthquake of October 2013, hitting 3 weeks before the typhoon, recorded a strength of 7.2 (releasing energy equivalent to 32 Hiroshima bombs) with the epicentre 6km south of Sagbayan, the area we were riding around. Everywhere we looked we could see cracked and collapsed walls. The viewpoint for the chocolate hills was in ruins and pretty much every church we passed had caved in with the pews moved outside for services. The rear of the church in Loboc itself had completely turned to rubble and there were cables strewn up to hold up the elevator to take you to a bridge over the Loboc river. Although there still seemed to be an incredible amount of damage, you didn’t see it in the same way as in northern Cebu, there were only a few UNICEF tents around and I got the feeling that the area was far wealthier and managed to recover with less outside intervention. Luckily the typhoon didn’t directly hit Bohol.

Earthquake damage, the ruins of the church, Loboc.

Having had our third mishap of the day when we discovered the spare helmet that was too huge to fit anyones head (it would have been too big for a giants head) dangling off the back of one of the bikes had got scuffed up and cracked hitting against the chain, we parked up at our guesthouse. The boys swam, we chilled for a bit, then headed out with the bikes for dinner in the main plaza. It was a great atmosphere, a Saturday night with everyone milling about and rock music being blared out from the band stand. 

The next day we left the guesthouse to wait outside for a bus into Loay. The first bus was packed and drove straight past. The next was a full jeepney that we somehow managed to clamber on to the roof of, and cling on for dear life, for the 15 minute journey hoping the rain wouldn’t get any worse. Once in Loay we barely paid the conductor before our next bus rocked up. For some reason the driver dropped us off in Jagna, halfway to our destination rather than at the Guindulman junction and we ended up negotiating with a tricycle driver to take us the rest of the way rather than waiting an hour for the next bus. It was the longest tricycle ride of my life and did nothing for our sore bums from the ridiculously long bike ride the day before. 

Finally we arrived in the centre of Anda, a tiny little fishing community, more popular with locals than backpackers, with a gorgeous stretch of white sand beach and a massive tide that went out over 100m to leave exposed little rockpools full of sea slugs, more starfish than you can ever begin to imagine (it was impossible not to tread on them), and awesome little blue crabs that we watched run off en mass into the seaweed to search for dinner. After a dip in the pool at our hotel, we left Tim on the balcony and wandered on to the beach for a walk. After about 30 minutes we came across a group of kids who were very excited to have their photo taken with us, before we headed back to meet Tim and order a tower of rum and coke, 1.75 litres of the stuff. We had a horrendous dinner at our hotel while streaming the football, after having an equally horrendous lunch there, before the boys bombed in the pool from the balcony and ran into the bed room freezing.

Anda beach with the tide out.

When we woke, the weather had changed and it was pretty overcast. We rolled out of bed and walked in to the village for a humongous lunch on the beach. Leaving Tim in the room to chill me and Rhys walked the other way along the beach to marvel at yet more starfish and sea slugs. Later, while Rhys relaxed in the room, me and Tim sat on the balcony overlooking the beach, listening to jazz while Tim treated himself to a cigar, how very backpackery! A game of dice with a Slovenian girl and we headed out to a quiet little restaurant for dinner before a movie in bed.

We left Anda the next morning and after an hour wait, the bus to Tagbilaran rocked up. We squashed in to the minuscule, Filipino sized seats, music blaring and windows open. Tim had a seat right over the bass and spent the whole 3.5 hour journey with his bum vibrating. The bus dropped us north of town by the jeepney terminal and we climbed aboard for the short, uncomfortable and cramped journey to Panglao. We checked into Alona Garden, great little Korean run cottages set around a central garden and, after a shower, walked down to the beach for a pre dinner drink and to browse the few stalls and souvenir shops. Dinner was delicious BBQ on the beach followed by way too much rum in another beach bar. Tim headed back to get some sleep before his diving the next day while me and Rhys stayed out, managing to get completely lost on our way home in the pouring rain. 

So far our opinion of Alona Beach is pretty good, it gets a bit of bad press and Lonely Planet doesn’t seem too keen, but to be honest, it’s just like being at a quiet Thai beach resort. There are more white people here than we’ve seen in the last 2 weeks put together so you don’t get the waves and the laughs and you get hassled a bit more with people offering you boat trips and scooter rental, but that’s actually a nice change for us and it’s novel to be back somewhere with all the tourist infrastructure to make things really easy.

Week 76 - Dumaguete, Apo Island, Oslob, Siquijor (Philippines)

Tim was up early again for a dive trip to Apo Island. Me and Rhys had a lay in before heading in to town to find a laptop repair shop to see if the netbook could be brought back from the dead. With no luck we decided to jump on a bus and head along the coast to Malatapay, as it was Wednesday the weekly market was in town and we thought it would be worth a look. It really wasn’t, it was one little track with a few small stalls and a field where they were selling cows and driving off with them stuffed into their tricycles. We stopped for lechon (hog roast) and wandered back to the main road for a bus back into Dumaguete. While we were waiting we were adopted by a chatty policeman, one of the five standing at the junction, each holding a pistol and a machine gun, bewildering considering how safe it feels here. 

Taking the cows home in the tricycle, Malatapay market.

Back in town we found another laptop repair shop upstairs in a dusty little wooden house. After waiting 30 minutes while he tried to unscrew the screen we left him to it only to return after an hour to sit and wait for another 2 hours with more and more people crowding into the tiny little room. A bit of solder, some masking tape and a new screen and the netbook was usable again, Rhys was over the moon, after 18 months together that netbook is his baby. Back at the hostel Tim came back from diving having had a great day with a good bunch of people exploring some of the best coral in the world. We had a couple of drinks in the hostel bar before heading out to a Filipino restaurant for cheap dinner.

Laptop repair, Dumaguete.

Tim had another dive day planned and left us in bed to head out to Dauin, just up the coast. We had a very lazy morning, watching TV in bed and drinking coffee on the roof terrace. When Tim came back at lunch time he was hyper having seen a flamboyant cuttlefish, among other things, while he was muck diving just off shore. We had lunch at the hostel before wandering into town to the department store that sells a bizarre mix of fakes and genuine branded clothes. We stopped at a coffee shop for cake and coffee before walking back. 

The next day we were headed to Apo Island. As the cheapest and easiest way for us to get there was to join a snorkel trip from the hostel we all booked on to the boat. Although Tim had dived at Apo already he decided he’d dive again and hope they went to some different sites. The first stop was just off of the main beach. We jumped in and within minutes we’d found our first turtle chomping away on the seaweed. We spent the next hour surrounded by green sea turtles who couldn’t care less that we were there floating about next to them in knee deep water. Back at the boat we stopped at another two spots, hindered a bit by the wind, snorkeling above some of the most beautiful coral we’ve ever seen. With a delicious lunch on the boat, despite the weird crowd and lack of atmosphere, we were all pretty content by the time we were dropped off at the island. We propped Tim up on a bench and went off to find rooms. Although very basic our find was dirt cheap and perfect, until we saw the four cockerels lined up along the back fence and the wind blew and made the tree the house was built around creak so loud it sounded like gunshots. 

Rhys swimming with turtles, Apo Island.

We were all pretty tired from our day on the boat so after a drink on our terrace and another on the beach we wandered around and found a little guesthouse serving delicious food cooked by the kindest lady ever. 

We were awoken early by the cockerels, the tree creaking and the heat (the electric only ran from 6:30pm to 9:30pm so no fans) having had a pretty terrible nights sleep. As we’d been recommended to hold off on swimming with turtles until noon when it was high tide we packed a bag and headed off for a walk. A lap of the lagoon and a sweaty climb up and down hundreds of concrete steps and we found another village on the other side of the island. We were back in the main village before lunch and grabbed our snorkels to head out in to the bay. Although not as many turtles as the day before we still saw a few before drying off and heading to one of the two resorts on Apo for lunch with views out over the sea. A lazy stroll to another cove and we chilled by the second resort, snorkeled in the bay and relaxed on the coral beach. Back at our guesthouse we had a drink on the balcony before walking the 100 metres to the beach to watch the sunset. Another couple of drinks at the beach bar (literally a table on the beach with a cool box) and we wandered back to Ronors again for dinner cooked by the lovely lady from the previous night.

Tim and Rhys watching the sunset at the Apo beach bar, Apo Island.

The wind had dropped and although that meant a hotter night’s sleep it also meant the creaky tree was a lot quieter. Me and Rhys left Tim in bed and wandered out for coffee before heading to the beach for a snorkel and to swim out to the dive boat to arrange a pick up. We saw so many turtles and as the wind had dropped visibility was better and the water was calmer. Back on shore we came across a group of locals cleaning and eating sea urchins straight out of the sea, they offered us some to try, very salty and fresh. All up, we had a great morning. Tim joined us on the beach where we left him snorkeling while we walked up to the view deck at the tip of the island with views out across the sea. Back on the beach we had time for a cool down swim before a quick bucket shower. We collected our bags and went back to the Liberty’s Resort for lunch while we waited for the dive boat to pick us up for our trip back to Dumaguete. After a very uncomfortable short trip in a tiny boat to the main boat we motored back to the mainland. 

Eating fresh sea urchins on the beach, Apo Island.

View of the lagoon from the view deck, Apo Island.

View of Apo Island from the boat.

Rhys and Tim relaxing on the boat back to Dauin, Apo Island in the background.

We had a short wait for a truck to take us back from Dauin to Dumaguete and were dropped at the bus terminal where we thought we could easily get a bus to Oslob. We were wrong. We had missed the 14:15 and the next direct bus didn’t leave until 22:30. Feeling adventurous we jumped on the next bus north and headed to Tampi, the port from which the buses catch a ferry over to Bato in Cebu. When we got there a ferry had been loaded and we were waved on, thinking it must be due to leave immediately. Other than asking if the ferry went to Cebu (the name of the island and the name of the main town) we didn’t stop to ask any further questions. Only when we were onboard did we start to wander where we were actually headed. Surrounded by truck drivers, the boat pulled away and it wasn’t until we got halfway across and the ticket guy came around that we worked out where we were going. 

View from the ferry from Tampi to Bato.

The ferry pulled in to Bato and we jumped on a tricycle, keen to get to Oslob before sundown. 20 minutes down the road and the tricycle pulled over to say there was a problem with his bike and he couldn’t take us any further. We waited in a a random little village for a bus to take us the rest of the way and ended up catching another tricycle. We reached Oslob just as it started getting dark. After viewing a few rooms we accepted that it was more expensive there than in other parts of the island due to the flock of tourists to see the whale sharks and settled in a resort on the beach. After dropping off our bags we headed to the cluster of stalls surrounding the car park for a delicious BBQ dinner while watching the Philippine version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire. We turned in early with the alarm set for 5:50am.

We bounced out of bed the next morning, dressed in our swimwear and grabbed our snorkels. On the beach we were herded into a small boat and rowed the short distance to the briefing centre. Although we missed the bulk of the briefing, they didn’t seem to mind and took our ticket money, issued us life jackets and took us back to the boat to head out, about 75m from shore where the spotters were sitting in their boats, pouring bag after bag of krill into the water, straight in to the mouths of the waiting whale sharks. We jumped in and spent the next 30 minutes swimming with (and dodging) the whale sharks, the biggest fish in the world, they can grow up to 12m long and can weigh up to 21 tonnes! We had very mixed feelings about the whole experience, it’s very unnatural and really not something that should be condoned, the sharks are just being hand fed so they don’t have any need to go elsewhere and it’s already disrupting their migration patterns and they’re no longer going to Donsol in the north. When we should have been on a high we came out of the water, smelling of krill, feeling a bit deflated, our desire to see them had made us put our morals to one side but saying that they were amazing, incredible creatures. 

Me swimming with the whale sharks, Oslob.

We ate an expensive breakfast at a little shack in the car park before grabbing our bags and flagging a bus to take us back to Lilo-An where we caught a ferry back over to Negros. After a very cramped bus ride we were back in Dumaguete where we checked back in to our aircon room, excited for a hot shower and a change of clothes. We spent the rest of the day relaxing, shopping, watching TV and playing pool. For dinner, Tim headed out to MacDonalds and brought us back a feast to eat sneakily in the room.

We rolled out of bed the next morning and jumped on a tricycle to the port. We thought there was a 9am ferry but found out the next boat didn’t leave until 10:30am. We filled in the waiting time walking to a coffee shop for take out lattes. Finally on the boat we left Negros and headed over to Siquijor. Once there we caught a tricycle to San Juan where we’d read about a decent hostel, as it was fully booked we propped Tim up with the bags, a beer and the rugby on the TV and wandered out to find a room. After walking for about 3km we found a great place, right on the beach. Although it was over budget, the room was incredible, a huge private veranda overlooking the beach, a kitchen, high ceilings and dark wood. As we’d spent so little on accommodation in Apo we decided to treat ourselves. 

After a couple of drinks in the bar we walked to the centre of San Juan a few kilometres away, stopping in a weird bar on route and to play a little basketball with the local kids, in search of a dive shop. Tim arranged his trip for the next day and we jumped in a tricycle back to our room. After watching sunset on the beach, trying some coconut wine a guy shimmied up the tree and brought down for us, and a drink on the verranda, Tim cooked us pork sandwiches in our room before we wandered over to the bar. A few people (including two Welshies) were drinking at ours and we ended up sitting up with them drinking and chatting.

Week 75 - Cebu, Malapascua, Banyatan, Mabinay, Dumaguete (Philippines)

I was up and in the hotel reception in Cebu at 9am to meet the agent returning our passports along with a new visa and a receipt for our ACR cards. A change in the rules after we’d already made all our plans meant we had to pay £230 to stay in the country past 59 days, good job we love the Philippines and think it’s worth it! Back in the room the boys were stirring, we showered and packed up ready to head out. We jumped in a taxi to the bus terminal and found a bus heading north to Maya, 4 hours away. As we got further north we started noticing the effects of Typhoon Yolanda, something we haven’t seen so far in the Philippines. Buildings missing their roofs, pylons bent in half and palm trees with all their leaves missing from one side of the tree.

Once in Maya we found a boat headed to Malapascua. After agreeing to the price increase the captain was angling for to leave immediately, we set out for the 30 min journey across to the island. As we drew close we knew we’d made a good decision, we were welcomed by a white expanse of coral beach and turquoise waters. Rhys made friends with a local guy on the boat who took us to some cheap beach bungalows and walked us through the village to buy water and arrange diving (for Tim) and snorkeling (for us). After a few drinks on the beach at ours we wandered out to find dinner. 

Bounty Beach, where our bungalow was, is the main beach on the island and the area that has seen the most rebuilding and the new roofs were in stark contrast to the main sand street of the village where the devastation was more evident. The beach is lined with dive shops and resorts, not leaving that much for backpackers but in the village we found a decent little restaurant, Ging Gings. We ate, wandered along the beach, found Rhys a dog with purring/teeth baring issues and turned in for the night.

Tim was up at an ungodly hour to head out on his own private little dive boat to a thresher shark cleaning station, from the happy Tim who came back into the room at around 7am I would assume the diving was well worth the early start and the videos he took only support my view. Thresher sharks are the most amazing and graceful creatures with humongous tails that seem to have no purpose but to look pretty. Me and Rhys had arranged to go snorkeling for half a day. We boarded the boat with a couple of french guys at 9:30am and were back in two hours. The snorkeling was rubbish, possibly the worst we’ve done since we’ve been away, we saw a couple of cool fish but nothing that blew us away and visibility was terrible. It was cheap though so we were still in good spirits when we got back and it was still really cool to take the boat along the island to see some of the little bays and coves and one of the stops was at a Japanese shipwreck and we’ve never snorkeled a shipwreck (although it was more like just a plank of wood or two). 

Me and the Japanese shipwreck, Malapascua.

Back at the bungalow Tim had also cut his diving short. As he was still recovering from his lengthy journey to get to the Philippines he spent the afternoon relaxing on the beach with a good book. Leaving him to it me and Rhys packed a picnic and headed out to explore the island. Lonely Planet had suggested a walk around the island would be a nice 3-4 hour explore but again it was wrong. There wasn’t really a path around the island and after walking through the villages along scorching hot sandy tracks and climbing a couple of hills we dropped down into a cove and ate our picnic at the side of a little hamlet. We walked to the top of the next hill before deciding to call it a day and heading back for a swim in the sea on Bounty Beach. We found Tim and sat out the front of ours while he enjoyed a massage on the beach. That night we ate at a cheap place on the beach before turning in for another early night.

Tim enjoying a sunset massage on the beach, Malapascua.

We left Malapascua the following day. After a lazy start we were on a boat by 9:30am heading back to Maya. Once in Maya we jumped on a bus to Bogo, where we caught yet another bus to Haganay. After a short wait at the port we boarded the ferry over to Bantayan Island. As soon as we stepped off the ferry we were surrounded, it was like a swarm of ants over a honey pot with everyone trying to take us somewhere. We walked to the end of the pier and the boys propped me up in a bakery to look after the bags and fend off the ants while they headed off to find a room. An hour later they returned and we grabbed a tricycle to Tickety Boo, the English run resort they’d found a couple of kilometres away. We settled in, cooled off in the swimming pool and grabbed a beer on the roof top bar overlooking the beach. 

That night we took a tricycle back into town to a Nordic run bar where we treated ourselves to a bit of a feast. We ate so much we couldn’t bear to stay out drinking. We stopped at one place for a quick drink (lovely bar, sandy floor, white floaty curtains and fairy lights), watched all the youngsters dancing and making us feel old before heading back to the room where we intended to have a game of pool before bed. The night watchman wouldn’t open the pool room so we ended up turning in for another early night, me and Tim read while Rhys went to sit on the beach where he failed in his attempt to start a bonfire. 

The next day we wanted to rent scooters to drive around the island. As all the bikes on the island were apparently rented it took until 11:30am for any to be arranged for us and we spent the morning playing pool and using the swimming pool. Tim had a big boy bike with gears while me and Rhys had a scooter. We left Santa Fe, the town we were staying in and headed north to Madridejos, on of the other two towns on the island. As soon as we left Santa Fe and the rest of the tourists behind (not that there were that many to start with outside of the remaining disaster recovery crews and old men with their Filipino brides) we were overwhelmed with the amount of people waving and saying hello, I felt like royalty sitting on the back of the scooter waving and shouting greetings back. It became obvious quickly with the amount of hand painted signs and little gardens with words spelled out in shells thanking Oxfam that the warm welcome had a lot to do with the association they have between white people and the aid they received after Yolanda. It really made us wish we’d done more. Considering Bantayan wasn’t the centre of the storm and it was 4 months ago, the affects still run deep. There are piles of rubble everywhere you look, collapsed fences, missing roofs, chunks of twisted corrugated iron and trees ripped out at the roots. But at the same time as seeing all that you see the happy smiling faces of the people, the Oxfam supported community vegetable gardens and really good quality family sized Oxfam and UNICEF tents that have replaced the fallen buildings and become the centre of new homes with new wooden rooms extending off them. The people here are so resilient and have not only dealt with it but are bouncing back with a smile, it’s very humbling to see.

Rhys and Tim on the bikes, Bantayan.

Gratitude to Oxfam, Bantayan.

We grabbed fried chicken in Madridejos, got laughed at by locals putting sun cream on, and continued south to Bantayan Town to use the ATM and to find out about ferries to Negros for the next day. By the time we made it back to Santa Fe it was about 4pm and we were getting tired, we stopped to check out the beach on the otherside of town to our resort (which turned out to be stunning) and the boys swam. Back at the bikes we realised Tim had a puncture so we limped back to ours. After a swim, a bit of chill time and some more pool we caught another tricycle back in to town and ended up eating back at the HR Bar. We’d decided a night out was in order and made our next stop a Polish Karaoke bar (they absolutely love Karaoke in the Philippines, it’s everywhere), where we spent the rest of the night. As the bar was dead we had the Karaoke to ourselves, sang a bit of Tom Jones in honor of it being St David’s Day, roped the bar owners parents into singing with us (who then bought us free vodkas) and rolled home after midnight with a bar bill for the three of us of £8.

Kids playing in the street near Madridejos, Bantayan.

Kids fishing on the pier, Madridejos, Bantanyan.

Sante Fe beach, Bantayan.

Rhys and Tim enjoying the beach, Santa Fe, Bantayan.

Back at the room a group of Filipino’s from Cebu (I think about 8 of them were sharing the same 3 bed room) were sitting outside their room drinking brandy and invited us to join. Tim sensibly headed to bed while me and Rhys stayed up making new friends. Tim made it out of bed about 10:30am the next day, me and Rhys didn’t rouse until gone 1pm. Deciding to stay an extra night as one, we’d missed the ferry and two, the horrific hangover wasn’t conducive to a travel day, we caught a tricycle into town for lunch before heading to the nice beach we’d discovered the day before. A long soak in the sea seemed to help a little and gave us enough energy to walk the 2km home along the beach. After a big lunch we weren’t hungry for dinner so the boys went to the shop at the end of the drive and came back with a selection bag of crisps, crackers, super dense cake and candy covered peanuts and snacked while watching a film in the bar.

Recovered, we were up early with plenty of time to flag a tricycle to take us to Bantayan Town to catch the ferry to Cadiz in Negros. After breakfast at a booth on the main square we headed to the pier and were ferried out to our boat. An hour after it was supposed to leaving we finally set off. The journey was hot and uneventful. The boat dropped us at a pier in the middle of nowhere and we had to grab another tricycle to take us the 4km into town to the bus terminal, with a couple of stops to retie the bags so Tim’s expensive dive gear didn’t end up sprawled across the road. Once at the bus terminal we had to wait for a bus to Bacolod an hour and a half away. Once in Bacalod we had to take a taxi across town from the north terminal to the south terminal where we then caught yet another bus headed to Dumaguete. After 4 hours and a short dinner stop we pulled in to Mabinay, a random town with a huge modern bus terminal but not much else. After trying to get a tricycle to a hotel in the guide book, we ended up somewhere completely different which was so cheap we couldn’t turn it down (we paid £3.50 for a double room!). 

After dropping off our bags and Tim discovering his room didn’t even have a fan, we walked to a nice looking restaurant we’d seen on the way from the bus terminal (there were only two choices on the main road, that or an empty fast food restaurant). Our instincts were right, it was a lovely place with a security guard and tables lit up in a little garden but strangely it only served three different dinners but an immense selection of desserts.

The reason we’d stopped in Mabinay, along with breaking up the long journey south, was to try spelunking in the second largest cave system in the Philippines. We jumped in a tricycle to the visitor centre, were gawped at by everybody we went passed and openly laughed at a couple of times, and discovered yet another Lonely Planet error, from the visitor centre it was only an option to view the beginner caves, no spelunking. As we were already there and it was very cheap we signed in and headed off with our guide to the walk to the first of the three caves. The whole trip took about an hour with the last cave, the Crystal Cave being the most impressive with lots of sparkly stalagmites and stalactites, the odd rhino bat and a few cave scorpions and spiders. Although we weren’t blown away the private tour and being off the beaten track still put a smile on our faces. 

On the way back to the room we stopped at a shooting range to see if we could arrange some guns to play with. After the girl stopped hiding behind the fridge giggling because three white people had walked in, Tim had a phone call with the owner who informed us they needed a weeks notice to organise licences. Back in Mabinay our adventure wasn’t over, opposite our room was the gate to the Mabinay Springs and for 15p entry we couldn’t resist. It was only a small place with a bright blue natural lagoon, a swimming pool and a boardwalk and zipline. Of course, being the big kids we are, we harnessed up and clambered up the zip line tower expecting the ride of our lives for the 300m line. We swam in the lagoon, were videoed a couple of times (I think they think white people are some fantastical mythical creatures like unicorns) and headed back to the room to dry, change and finish packing. We timed a tricycle to the bus station perfectly and jumped straight on a bus to Dumaguete. Once in town we grabbed another tricycle to a huge hostel from the guide book and checked in to an aircon room with hot water and cable TV. After pizza at the rooftop bar and dinner at an Italian on the harbour front we wandered back to the room to watch UFC before bed.