Week 80 - Guimaras, Boracay, Carabao (Philippines)

Another early start and we left our pension in Silay at 8am. After waiting a couple of minutes, a local bus pulled up heading to Bacolod north terminal. Although we were over taken by two Ceres buses, it was worthwhile as our driver and conductor looked so happy to have white people aboard I thought they were going to burst. From the terminal we took a cab to the port and found a ferry going to Iloilo in Panay. The hour long ferry ride was painless and once at the other side we grabbed a tricycle to the Ortiz pier where we caught another smaller boat to Guimaras Island, 15 minutes away, followed by another tricycle to our accommodation on the other side of the island. Finally, a travel day where everything went to plan and on time.

One of the women who ran our resort was a bit fruit loop but we eventually got ourselves into our rooms (sadly Rhodri’s treehouse was a little too basic and we had to upgrade him) and settled down to a home cooked lunch with views out across Lawi Bay. After lunch me and Rhys went for a swim and Rhodri took a nap. The pool was a winner, set in the jungle and right by our cottages. Rhys joined Rhod and napped while I read and we woke Rhodri in time to watch the sunset from the restaurant. A game of cards, home cooked Adobo pork and a bottle of rum and we were ready for a final swim and bed.

We booked motorbikes for the next day and Rhys took Rhodri up to the tarmac road to make sure he was comfortable riding with gears. Once he got the hang of it they came back to pick me up and we headed out to explore the island. First stop was at the Trappist Monastery. Although we’d stopped there briefly with our tricycle driver the previous day, we’d only seen the gift shop and wanted to pop in to see the actual monastery. It wasn’t really very spectacular but as the only male monastery in the Philippines we felt we had to to stop by. Next, just across the road, we pulled in to the Mango Research Centre. Guimaras is famous for it’s mangoes which are hailed as the sweetest in the world. After reading some info boards about their research, we were able to wander around the orchard and the nursery, amazed at just how many fruit can grow on one tree and how they manage to staple each fruit in to it’s own little newspaper pouch to protect it.  

Rhys and Rhodri strolling through the orchard at the Mango Research Centre, Guimaras.

Mangoes for sale, the sweetest in the world! Guimaras.

Next, we tried to find a waterfall but failed and ended up down a very bumpy dirt track and gave up and continued to Alubihod Beach. We’d considered staying at Alubihod and were very glad we didn’t. The main resort there, Raymans, is a bit like Butlins and the beach, although beautiful white sand, was packed. We arranged for a private boat to take us out for a couple of hours and ducked into Rayman’s restaurant for lunch. The boat trip was well worth it. After passing Fairy Castle Island, our first stop was as Ave Maria, a very pretty little beach with a sand bar jutting out into the water and semi decent coral and marine life. Next we stopped at Turtle Beach where one poor turtle was kept in captivity for tourists to pick up and take photos of, we left pretty quickly. Next, we went to a shrine with some great views over the nearby islets before pulling in to Baras cave, a cave big enough for a boat to fit it (or three boats even, since there were more people doing the same route). We jumped out of the boat and swam in the cave in the bright turquiose waters with bats flying around. Back on the boat Rhys asked if we could go to ‘the place with the big fish’, thinking it was somewhere we could snorkel. We didn’t realise how far away it was and by the time we got there we figured we’d have to extend our trip from 2 hours to 3. It was well worth it though. It was another research station where they breed fish to release into the wild and give vaccinations and the like. The star attractions were Mike and Pedro, two 25 year old grouper, weighing in at 120kg. One of the research assistants took us around, he was incredibly knowledgeable and we had a great time.

Rhys swimming in Baras Cave, Guimaras.

Mike the Grouper, Guimaras.

Our boatmen took us back to the beach and we climbed back on our bikes for one last stop of the day, at the Guisi Lighthouse. Again, a worthwhile stop, it’s an old metal lighthouse that’s in ruins but that you can still climb. Rhodri waited at the bottom while me and Rhys braved the spiral staircase for views across Guisi Bay from the top, a lovely little cove that we wished we had time to sit and relax on. We ended the day back at our resort with a swim in the pool and home cooked dinner on the terrace.

Guisi Lighthouse, Guimaras.

We had arranged to be collected by the tricycle driver at 7:30am the following morning to take us back in to Jordon to catch a boat back to Iloilo. The road leading to the resort was so steep and rocky that we had to walk for the first 10 minutes while our tricycle driver battled to get our luggage up to the main road. Once in Iloilo we found a cab to take us to the Ceres bus terminal where we’d timed it just right to get seats on a spacious aircon bus, a real treat after the hideous bus trip to and from Sipalay. The 6 hour journey flew by and me and Rhys enjoyed a roadside lunch partway through. The bus dropped us at the terminal in Caticlan for boats across to Boracay. The crowds were overwhelming, so different to anywhere else in the Philippines. We joined the masses and were fed through to a waiting area and straight on to a boat. 30 minutes later and we were on Boracay and in a tricycle to our guesthouse, near boat station 1. 

Although we’d got ourselves confused and booked the room for the wrong dates, they managed to squeeze us in. We dumped our bags and headed out to White Beach to explore. White Beach is a beautiful 3km stretch of white sand, lined with resorts, restaurants and bars. It’s unlike anywhere else we’ve been here and is the only place where we felt like it caters more for package tourists than backpackers. We walked the length of the beach weaving between the hundreds of people, stopping for a happy hour cocktail when we got near boat station 3, the quieter and cheaper end of the beach. Deciding to freshen up before dinner we caught a tricycle back to ours. A short while later and we were back on the beach, it was already much quieter and more appealing. We shopped at the souvenir stalls and ate kebabs on the sand before wandering back to the cocktail bar on the beach. 

Sail boats lining White Beach, Boracay.

We checked out the next day and lugged our backpacks down to White Beach to search for a boatman going to Carabao Island. There aren’t any public boats from Boracay and you can either charter your own boat or try to get a lift home with the locals when they head back there in the afternoons. We found a couple of guys leaving at 3-4pm but after Rhys negotiated a great deal to charter a sailboat we left immediately. It cost us £20 for all three of us and we loved it. It took about 45 minutes and we were drenched by the time we got to Lanas, we hadn’t realised it was a racing boat until we climbed aboard. The crew were having a wail of a time while the boat sped through the waves leaning into the wind with us perched out on the wings. We arrived and straight away managed to find three people with motorbikes who could take us to Poblacion, a beach we’d heard was the best on the island. The journey was great fun, we clung on, trying not to tip backwards with our bags on while climbing up and over the hill, following a concrete path. 

Me and Rhodri on the sailboat to Carabao Island.

When we got there we met the mayor, Fil and looked at a room he had to rent in his house. Leaving Rhodri there for lunch, me and Rhys wandered along the beach to check out other options. Seeing the beach, we were a little disappointed, it was littered with seaweed and rubbish, brought in by the choppy sea. It turns out it was just the wrong time of year for that side of the island, a shame since the photos we’d seen showed a glorious white sand beach. After a quick discussion we all agreed that we’d prefer to head back to Lanas, the beach where our boat had landed, and try to find accommodation there, although we had heard that it was the priceier side of the island with the more established resorts.

Rhys asked the mayor to organise some more bikes for us and we clung on for the uncomfortable but exciting journey back to Lanas. We asked the bikes to drop us at Nipa Hauz, a resort right on the beach that i’d read about and after looking at another two rooms at places nearby we settled at Nipas. We dropped our bags in the room and cooled off in the sea before grabbing a late lunch in the restaurant. We were the only people staying there and only saw a couple of other white people on the whole island- considering we were only 30 minutes from Boracay we felt like we’d found a spot a little off the beaten track. While Rhodri slept in the room and in the hammock, me and Rhys whiled away the afternoon walking along the beach, watching the locals play basketball in the village, swimming, snorkeling and relaxing. Despite it being a coral beach it was still beautiful and the sea was crystal clear.

Sunset outside Nipa Hauz, Carabao Island.

The next day we left Rhodri in bed to enjoy a well earned lay in. As the electricity doesn’t run all night and the generator wasn’t powerful enough to keep the aircon on it got stifling hot in the room and me and Rhys struggled to sleep for long. Instead, we sat on the beach with a morning coffee before a not overly impressive snorkel. Rhys left me to walk in to the village to try to buy fruit and when he returned we walked in the other direction along the beach. Rhodri appeared at lunchtime and we ate at our resort before he disappeared off to the room again for a bit more recovery time. That night we walked along the beach to another empty resort run by a lovely German couple where we had all you can eat BBQ. Although it wasn’t what we expected, we had a very pleasant evening sitting around a big table with the managers and a couple of the kids of the Filippino owners.

As most of the motorboats that work on Boracay belong to people living on Carabao, each evening around 3-4pm, they head home. We’d waited on the beach and agreed with a boatman to take us back across the following morning when he headed to work. He told us to be ready at 5am when he would pick us up from Nipas. At 5am we were in the restaurant waiting. He didn’t appear. At 5:30am we decided to walk along the beach to the village to try to find another boat. Lots of boats were heading to Boracay but none would take us. Eventually, Rhys found a ferry boat headed to Caticlan that was making a stop at Boracay and we jumped on. Sitting on the roof of a boat watching the dawn break over a paradise island isn’t a bad start to the day. We motored past White Beach and pulled into a tiny cove near the port. I’m not sure how legit it was as we ended up walking along a dirt track and arriving at the main road after passing through a big gate with a no entry sign on. 

We hailed a tricycle and arrived at our hostel, Boracay Boarding House, by 7:30am. Rhodri’s room was ready so we dumped our bags, left Rhodri to sleep for a couple of hours and headed out to find a coffee shop. We strolled around the markets, got Rhys a haircut, then found a spot on the beach to sleep before lunch. Back at the room we woke Rhodri and checked in to our own room. The first room they gave us was a massive family room and we ended up having to move to another room which was a bit of a shame but it was still great value. Rhodri popped out to the markets and me and Rhys headed back to White Beach to walk up to Boat Station 3 and Angol, the backpacker area. It was much quieter the further you walked but the sand was coarser and less white in colour.

We headed back to the room and woke Rhodri to head out for dinner. We were all abit shattered after the early start and i’d picked up a cold so we just had kebabs on the beach again before a very early night.

After a mammoth 12 hour sleep and a lay in with coffees in bed, we left Rhodri to his bed (jeez can that boy sleep!) and wandered to the back side of the island, Bulabog Beach, renowned for it’s kitesurfing. The beach was quiet. Although it was lined with kitesurf schools, no one was out on the water and the sand was compacted and strewn with seaweed, not an ideal sunbathing or swimming beach but nice for a walk to get away from the crowds. Back at the room, we packed a picnic (cornbeef and pickle sandwiches and salt and vinegar crisps - yum!), collected Rhodri and caught a tricycle to Puka Beach. It was by far my favourite beach on the island. Although the sand wasn’t as fine or as white as White Beach, there were only a handful of people there and rather than being lined by resorts and restaurants, it backs onto hills covered in trees and scrub and the odd palm tree, a far more remote and tranquil setting. We swam, walked along the beach, sunbathed, drank fresh coconuts, bought some more souvenirs and after 3 hours, caught a tricycle back into town. That evening we wandered through the markets, ate at a posh burger restaurant and had a cocktail on the beach, turning in early again as we had an early start the next day and I was still a bit under the weather.

Puka Beach, Boracay.

Me on Puka Beach, Boracay.

The boys enjoying their coconuts, Puka Beach, Boracay.

Week 79 - Legaspi ,Manila, Bacolod, Sipalay, Silay (Philippines)

The week started with a tricycle to the bus terminal and a short bus ride back to Legaspi. Leaving Rhys and Tim with the backpacks in the 7-11 in Legaspi City (as opposed to Albay, Legaspi is made up of two conjoined cities), me and Rhodri headed out, map in hand, to find somewhere to stay. After walking around for 45 minutes in very muggy heat, a little old man pulled over in his car to ask if we needed help. Rhys had chatted to someone in the 7-11 and heard of a decent hotel and we asked for directions. The man told us to jump in and after dropping off his wife at work, he drove us down to the port, to the hotel that was in a new waterside complex. It turned out to be too expensive and after a total hour and a half of walking around and reporting back to Rhys and Tim we decided to stay at Rey Hotel, the second place we’d looked at, typical. 

After a quick stop in the shopping mall food court for lunch we hired a tricycle to take us to a few of the city highlights. First stop was at the disused railway station before we arrived at the Albay Wildlife Park. From what we’d read we thought it was going to be a municipal park with a nice pond and picnic spots. We were very wrong, once we paid to go in we realised it was full of caged animals, in tiny little dirty cages, it was very sad and we left pretty quickly. Our next stop was at Lignon Hill. Since the path was so steep our tricycle driver dropped us at the ticket office and we walked for 20 minutes up to the view point. We timed it perfectly and reached the top just as the cloud was clearing and Mount Mayon came into view. It truly is a spectacular sight, the volcano rises from the plateau to form an almost perfectly symmetrical cone. Its the kind of volcano you’d draw if you were playing pictionary. We sat at the mirador admiring the view for quite some time before descending back to the ticket office and taking a side path to some Japanese tunnels. For 15p each, the tunnels were unlocked and the light switched on. Information was a bit lacking but I gather the tunnels were cut into the rock face to initially be used as an ammunition store before the Japanese moved in.

Mount Mayon, Legaspi.

 We caught another tricycle that evening to a Lonely Planet recommended restaurant, Small Talk, in Albay. A lovely setting in an old house with a decent menu. After dinner we explored the area and stumbled across the Magayon festival. It was incredibly busy, a cross roads cordoned off and lined with bars with plastic chairs spilling out on to the street and a band playing 80’s power ballads. We stopped for a couple of drinks, were bought some more drinks and some snacks by a local guy at the table next to us (who was too shy to actually talk to us and was content just sitting near us), and headed back to oqur guesthouse. A few more drinks in the room and a handmade care bear T-shirt Tim made for Rhys and it was bed time.

Care Bear Taffy - Rhys and Tim enjoying some bromance.

We were feeling a little worse for wears when we woke but had to pack up and head out for our flight back to Manila. As always the flight was delayed. Before leaving Manila airport we stopped by Burger King then jumped in a taxi to our prebooked hotel on the edge of Malate. Although the staff were completely incompetent, the rooms were fantastic and we spent a couple of hours recuperating. Despite this being our sixth night in Manila we hadn’t yet seen anything of the city outside of Bonifacio High Street so we grabbed the cameras and took a taxi to Fort Santiago. We were surprised how nice the fort was, everyone says there is nothing to do in Manila but i’d definitely recommend the fort. It’s only small as most of the walls were destroyed during the wars and have been reconstructed but there are some worthwhile areas, the storage/prison cells and the memorial to all the people who died there at the hands of the Japanese and the Rizal Memorial and Museum, a newly opened museum dedicated to the life and execution of the national hero Joseph Rizal (a revolutionary who was not part of the major revolution which lead to Philippine independence but who was executed by the Spanish nethertheless for previous revolutionary writings).

Rhys and Tim admiring the view from the fort, Manila.

Back at the hotel we had some more downtime to enjoy our room before it was time to head out for our final night with Tim. We took a taxi to Adriatico Street, a strip of bars and hostels, where we settled in for a quick dinner at a little shack before finding a beer pong table in the centre of a semi-circle of bars to entertain the boys. Another taxi ride and we headed to P. Burgos Street in Makati, a bit of a red light district but no where near as sleazy as Phuket’s Patpong. Our aim was to visit the Ringside Bar where we’d heard about midget boxing. We arrived just after 10pm, just as a bout was due to start. It only lasted about 10 minutes and after trying to arrange for Tim to go in the ring and being told it was about £30, we left and headed to a Coyote Bar next door. Me and Tim ended up having massages in our chairs at the bar and Rhys treated Tim to a special shot before we decided to head back to the karaoke bars of Malate. We dropped Rhodri off at the hotel and found a place with cheap drinks but before any songs were sung we decided it was home time and followed in Rhodri’s footsteps. All up our experience of Manila this time round was a positive one, we saw a little bit of culture, visited some of the more popular bar areas and stayed in a nice hotel.

Rhys and Rhodri playing beer pong, Manila.

Midget boxing, Ringside Bar, Manila.

We didn’t leave our rooms until check out time when we wandered along our road to find something cheap for lunch. Before we knew it, it was time to head back to the airport. We had a nightmare hailing a cab (another Friday afternoon rush hour in Manila) and finally found a tiny one with very poor air conditioning. Squished in with half the luggage on our laps we had a very long, hot and painful journey to the airport, cutting it fine yet again for check in. We had a speedy goodbye with Tim outside who was flying a couple of hours later from another terminal and rushed in to make last call. As soon as we got in the lounge we saw our flight was delayed and we ended up arriving in Bacolod 2 hours late. 

It was sad to say goodbye to Tim, up to this point we’ve spent 10% of our whole trip with him and we were getting used to having him around, being thoroughly entertaining, giving Rhys lots of man loving and helping out with the logistics. Who knows where and when we’ll see him next but i’m sure there will be for another grand adventure at some point.

Once in Bacolod it was already dark so we jumped in a taxi to our hotel. The driver couldn’t quite understand how he hadn’t heard of the guesthouse we were headed to and rang all his mates to ask them if they knew where it was. We had the full address and suprise suprise, there it was, where it was supposed to be. We checked in to Mainstreet, a great place for a very reasonable price. We decided it was too late to venture far for dinner and popped into the Korean restaurant downstairs. The food was immense, on top of our main meals they brought us out starters and dessert and free coke, we weren’t sure if it was the normal service or that they were just very excited to have some western customers. 

We treated ourselves to a bit of a lay in the following day and didn’t checkout until 9:30am. We hailed a cab to the south bus terminal and found a bus bound for Sipalay. Unfortunately the buses only go once an hour and it was already full so we started the journey standing, expecting the bus to clear out in no time. It didn’t and four hours and a tire change later and we were still standing. Thankfully the bus was aircon so aleast we didn’t have to deal with the heat and humidity. Finally we got seats and spent the last two hours in relative comfort (the 4.5 hour Lonely Planet trip took 6 hours). Once we reached Montilla, we disembarked and jumped in a tricycle to Nauhang. The tricycle left us at the side of a river where some kids ran over to offer to paddle us across to Sugar Beach. We took off our shoes, piled in the bags and headed off, 4 kids and the 3 of us all crammed in. It was less than 5 minutes to the other side and then, having made the mistake of not agreeing a price before we got on the boat, the kids demanded 200 pesos in payment (£2.75). A little annoyed at having been ripped off and having had an awful travel day as it was we trudged our way along Sugar Beach without really taking in the beauty of it.

When we arrived at Driftwood, the staff were so friendly and the nipa hut we’d booked was so perfect our morale got a bit of a boost. We changed into our swimming gear, bought a beer and waded in to the sea to watch the sunset. The journey was worth it. Sugar Beach is about 5km north of Sipalay town and feels pretty remote. There are no roads and access is either the way we came or by boat directly to Sipalay. The beach is a brown chocolaty colour and is lined with palm trees and rustic resorts, no 5* luxury, more high end backpacking. The sea was perfectly clear with no seaweed or rocks in sight making it perfect for swimming and the cove it was in was sheltered by little green, rolling hills in every direction. It really was a little piece of heaven. We ate in our resort, played with the dogs and fell into bed exhausted, only woken by Rhodri shouting in his sleep to ask if we needed help.

The next day, leaving Rhodri in bed, me and Rhys had a coffee overlooking the water before heading out for a walk to the southern end of the beach. As the weather forecast predicted a cloudy afternoon, we woke Rhodri at 9:30am and hired kayaks to explore the coast. We only took them out for a couple of hours but the views were tremendous, Rhys and Rhodri snorkeled in a little cove and when Rhodri headed back me and Rhys discovered a cave full of bats where we had to pull our kayak through by our hands on the rocks. Back on Sugar Beach we ate lunch and sat in the hammocks. The boys headed back to chill in the room and I sat on the beach as a storm rolled in. It was bizarre, thunder and lightening (I could even see the lightening hitting the sea just offshore) but no rain and still hot and sunny. Before dinner we wandered south along the beach to a little hut selling beer and rum to watch the sunset before eating at our resort again and playing pool and foosball in the bar. We were woken again by Rhodri shouting in his sleep, this time telling us he couldn’t find the yellow thing that had been put in his bed, we’re yet to find out what it was.

Me walking along Sugar Beach, Sipalay.

Rhys and Rhodri with a rainbow over Sugar Beach, Sipalay.

Sugar Beach, Sipalay.

Me and Rhys left Rhodri in bed again and walked along the beach in the other direction. We had a couple of games of boules and relaxed in the hammocks until Rhodri got up in time for lunch. We tried a different lunch spot that wasn’t very successful before Rhodri headed back to bed and me and Rhys went out for a snorkel. As there aren’t any rocks in the bay where Sugar Beach is, snorkeling was limited to the cliff side on the northern edge, there wasn’t a huge amount to see, some huge puffer fish and some shoals. Back at the room we had a planning session before heading out for another sunset along the beach and to another resort restaurant for dinner.

We booked the Driftwood boat to run us into Sipalay at 8am the following morning so we could get a good start on the journey back north, the journey south having been quite trying. We got the last 3 seats on the bus and were feeling optimistic. Then we got to the halfway point, the woman next to Rhys left her seat so I moved then 20 minutes later she decided she wanted to get back on the bus and have her original seat back. Being the ultimate gentleman Rhys let me keep his seat and he ended up standing for an hour and a half before sitting on the floor by the door. With one hour of the journey to go a seat freed up. The bus dropped us back at Bacolod south terminal and we jumped straight in a cab for the 20 minute north to Silay.

Silay has fancifully been called ‘the Paris of the Orient’ because of the mansion houses scattered around town, built at the turn of the 20th century when Silay was at the forefront of sugar production. We arrived and checked into our pension house and I left the boys to relax and eat ice creams from the 7-11 while I ran around town to see the main ancestral homes in the hour and a half I head before closing time (there are 29 recognised homes within the town). I was overwhelmed with how European the whole town felt and the houses themselves were beautiful - grand wooden mansions with well kept gardens and a real antique, colonial feel. Two of the houses I visited had been opened as museums, the Balay Negrense and the Don Bernardino Jalandoni Museum, (where I had a private tour) and gave you a real insight to how the people of Silay lived with their big, open, airy houses.

The Balay Negrenese, Silay,

Back at the pension I had a quick shower and headed back out with the boys to ‘The Ruins’ in Talisay. We spent 15 minutes trying to find a tricycle to take us there before we finally found a taxi. Once there we were surprised how busy it was. We wandered around in the twilight before taking a seat at the Italian restaurant where we ate dinner and watched the lights coming on while listening to classical music. It was a very pleasant way to spend an evening. The building itself is a mansion house built in the early 1900’s by thew sugar baron Don Lacson, it was the largest residential building built at the time but was burnt down to prevent the Japanese taking it as a base.

Me and Rhodri at the Ruins, Bacolod.

Enjoying a beer at the Ruins, Bacolod.

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.