Sun, 07 Mar 2004
OK so we left the Philippines and we're in a whole different country (Singapore). But I did promise you a report (I also promised some of you postcards but who's counting?)
Right brief history lesson. The Philippines were invaded and ruled by Spain - bizarrely from Mexico rather than Spain like you might expect - for about 500 years. This means that a quite a lot of the language has a Spanish feel (but because they were ruled by America for a while too they spell everything phonetically/idiot fashion). Despite this and having a variety of their own languages they, for some reason, insist on using English numbers. This can be clearly seen when they conspire with each other as to how to over-charge you thinking that because all the other words are in Tagalog that you won't recognise your own numeral system....funny people.
Their national pastimes are also curiously odd ones:
- Cock-fighting - the real thing with razor blades on the legs n everything. Thankfully we were never privy to a fight, but we wandered through China town in Manila just prior to an impromptu cock fight.
It seems that the cock fighting tradition stems back to tribal times when they would have a cock fight before they did battle with another tribe to see if they would be victorious. They kept up the tradition, however, because they're nasty, vicious and bloody thirsty little bastards. - Karaoke - I need not tell you of the true horror of karaoke (the Japanese word for singing without talent). But let me say that unless you've been in a place where they have coin-op karaoke machines in every fast food/eating establishment, outside people's houses, on street corners and at the top of mountains, then you've been let off very lightly my friend.
Karaoke faves are Kenny Rogers tunes, selected Bon Jovi hits (and misses), Winds of Change by The Skorpions, My Way by Frank Sinatra and Hello by Lionel Richie. All sung in the wrong key, sometimes at the wrong tempo and always. always, always too bloody loud! - basketball - odd thing for a race of people collectively shorter than 5ft to aspire to play a game where everyone is about 7ft tall.
They believe that their ancestors are very wise people. So much so that they keep doing things simply because that's how it's always been done even though it could be achieved much simpler another way. Some of it's fairly cool stuff like the way they treat the dead in Mountain Province, North Luzon; leaving the corpse outside their house for a few days to make sure that the spirit has left. A guy sits with it in vigil watching it and trying to ease the passage to the other side as best as possible. That way it can't get grumpy being trapped in a coffin and hang around getting prissy with people for all time.
If a person is murdered however they leave it sat in a “death chair” but no one looks after it and it is often ridiculed and shunned. All in an effort to get the spirit all riled up so it can take revenge on its killer. Quite clever I thought.
But stuff like walking 2 miles out of your way up a mountain because that's the way your dad did it seems a bit bloody daft to me.
There was actually only ever one Pilipino who had an original thought. His name was Joseph Rizal. He wrote some books explaining how Pilipinos should strive to think for themselves, not follow leaders and seek to be educated.
The Spanish shot him.
It's a primarily carnivorous country. They eat meat. Tons of it. Not much vegetation. Just meat. Usually killed in a cruel and unusual way. For instance they will beat a chicken to death very slowly, with a hammer, so that the meat is more tender.
Another culinary treat to be avoided is partially-formed duck foetuses, or, if you’re very lucky, partially formed crocodile foetus. Apparently they're very good for your knees. I didn't find out how....
I didn't get sick once in the entire time I was in the Philippines - thus proving that it was the all vegetable diet in India that was bad for me.
If you're a vegetarian planning to visit the islands then you might starve (or at least get very sick of plain rice) as even the vegetable dishes are cooked using animal fats. So watch out.
Anyhoo, we arrived in Manila at the end of January to discover that no-one wanted to buy our travellers cheques from us and that our bank cards didn't work in any ATM's at the airport. A nice man from the tourist board place arranged a taxi for us at the extremely unreasonable rate of 400 piso (1 pound = 100 piso approx) from the airport to find us someplace to get some cash.
Cue a mad dash round Metro Manila failing to find working ATMs and being turned away by the seediest Black Marketeers. Until, at last, we found an even seedier Black Market place where they would give us a really shite exchange rate. So that was good.
Oh and I forgot to mention that it was hot.
Damn hot.
And it looked like down town America. The streets were thick with fast food outlets, 7-elevens and elderly American men with their teenage Philipino wives.
we found a guesthouse that was a small impersonal place run by an alcoholic guy and his 5 stroppy daughters.
We hated Manila.
We left as soon as possible.
Next we went to 100 Islands. Of which there are 123. And they’re more like rocky lumps with a weedy strip of beach, than the lush desert island paradise you might be picturing.
But nevertheless, we were able to charter a boat which took us out to what was to be our own private island for the day.
So we spent the day snorkelling, swimming, spinning sticks, getting stung by invisible jellyfish (Ros) and getting sunburnt (me).
Brief weirdness when a rich American and his Pilipino bride misunderstood the private island thing and landed on our beach for a few hours of splashing in the shallows, ignoring the 2 fraggles and eating their picnic (which consisted entirely of bananas and beer). They left again but not before completely failing to offer us any of their food/drink or even acknowledge our presence.
From 100 Islands we went north into Mountain Province and had a week or so having fun in the mountains stamping about on rice terraces, caving, looking for (and failing to find) headhunting tribes - they're out there. Although Christianity is doing its best to destroy them - and swimming in icy-cold waterfalls.
We had lots of fun. It reminded me a lot of Wales. As it was very hilly and it kept pissing down for no discernable reason.
then we went south to Manila. Remember Manila? We hated it....
Not this time. Firstly I figured out how to get money from the ATMs using a process of stalking them throughout an afternoon. So we had no more money issues then....
we found a magical place.
A respite from the outside world and all the horrors and karaoke that that entails. A place called the Robinson's Mall. We ate @ BK (my first time ever) and window shopped to our heart's content.
From Manila we went to the port and caught a ferry to Cebu. The ferry journey took 24 hours and allowed us to make friends with some Cebuites who advised us that the guesthouse we were going to stay at was in a really nasty area and we would hate it and/or get killed there.
We ignored them and had a really cool time.
we wandered about in the downtown area - which has the rather unfortunate name of Colon - well into the night, visited the cinema, watched a chess tournament, avoided the transsexuals (who wanted to play with Ros' dreads and erm I don't know what they had planned for me....) and generally didn't get killed or robbed.
From Cebu we got another ferry (this one was a superfast catamaran) to the island of Bohol. On the way we watched The Last Castle on DVD but as the ferry was super fast we only got to see half it.....
In Bohol we stayed in a place called Nuts Huts near a town called Loboc. We stayed in a cabin on stilts above (and slightly to the left of) the river. We spent our days swimming up the river, swimming back down the river again, visiting Chocolate Hills (which aren't made of chocolate) and visiting the tarsier sanctuary - teeny little monkeys, big eyes, tiny brains. A sort of primate version of Natalie Imbruglia.
And our nights were spent our nights lying awake wondering what the hell that noise was and trying to decide if it was big enough to eat us. Jungles eh? Noisy bloody places.....
After that we went to the divers' paradise of Panglau. A tiny island just off Bohol. Now the problem with a diver's paradise is that it's chock full of divers. And they're horrible people. Worse than Israelis – see previous travelogues - loud, arrogant, obnoxious and often drunk....
So we found a quieter beach and had some snorkelling fun before travelling back to Cebu city for a few more mugging free days and death free nights.
then we spent a few nights on the island of Malapasqua (which roughly translates as Shitty Christmas). Where we were annoyed by more divers and a Welsh bloke promised us free beer all night if Ros spunned fire. so she spunned and we got drunk. Then there were some cocktails and a few arguments with a different Welsh bloke, a fall, some nasty cuts that got infected, a flight to Manila and then a flight to Singapore.
Quite a lot really.
So here I am in Singapore. and my net time is at an end.
Bye for now. not sure when I get to talk to you again.
Hugs n stuff
Cantus
If a person is murdered however they leave it sat in a “death chair” but no one looks after it and it is often ridiculed and shunned. All in an effort to get the spirit all riled up so it can take revenge on its killer. Quite clever I thought.
But stuff like walking 2 miles out of your way up a mountain because that's the way your dad did it seems a bit bloody daft to me.
There was actually only ever one Pilipino who had an original thought. His name was Joseph Rizal. He wrote some books explaining how Pilipinos should strive to think for themselves, not follow leaders and seek to be educated.
The Spanish shot him.
It's a primarily carnivorous country. They eat meat. Tons of it. Not much vegetation. Just meat. Usually killed in a cruel and unusual way. For instance they will beat a chicken to death very slowly, with a hammer, so that the meat is more tender.
Another culinary treat to be avoided is partially-formed duck foetuses, or, if you’re very lucky, partially formed crocodile foetus. Apparently they're very good for your knees. I didn't find out how....
I didn't get sick once in the entire time I was in the Philippines - thus proving that it was the all vegetable diet in India that was bad for me.
If you're a vegetarian planning to visit the islands then you might starve (or at least get very sick of plain rice) as even the vegetable dishes are cooked using animal fats. So watch out.
Anyhoo, we arrived in Manila at the end of January to discover that no-one wanted to buy our travellers cheques from us and that our bank cards didn't work in any ATM's at the airport. A nice man from the tourist board place arranged a taxi for us at the extremely unreasonable rate of 400 piso (1 pound = 100 piso approx) from the airport to find us someplace to get some cash.
Cue a mad dash round Metro Manila failing to find working ATMs and being turned away by the seediest Black Marketeers. Until, at last, we found an even seedier Black Market place where they would give us a really shite exchange rate. So that was good.
Oh and I forgot to mention that it was hot.
Damn hot.
And it looked like down town America. The streets were thick with fast food outlets, 7-elevens and elderly American men with their teenage Philipino wives.
we found a guesthouse that was a small impersonal place run by an alcoholic guy and his 5 stroppy daughters.
We hated Manila.
We left as soon as possible.
Next we went to 100 Islands. Of which there are 123. And they’re more like rocky lumps with a weedy strip of beach, than the lush desert island paradise you might be picturing.
But nevertheless, we were able to charter a boat which took us out to what was to be our own private island for the day.
So we spent the day snorkelling, swimming, spinning sticks, getting stung by invisible jellyfish (Ros) and getting sunburnt (me).
Brief weirdness when a rich American and his Pilipino bride misunderstood the private island thing and landed on our beach for a few hours of splashing in the shallows, ignoring the 2 fraggles and eating their picnic (which consisted entirely of bananas and beer). They left again but not before completely failing to offer us any of their food/drink or even acknowledge our presence.
From 100 Islands we went north into Mountain Province and had a week or so having fun in the mountains stamping about on rice terraces, caving, looking for (and failing to find) headhunting tribes - they're out there. Although Christianity is doing its best to destroy them - and swimming in icy-cold waterfalls.
We had lots of fun. It reminded me a lot of Wales. As it was very hilly and it kept pissing down for no discernable reason.
then we went south to Manila. Remember Manila? We hated it....
Not this time. Firstly I figured out how to get money from the ATMs using a process of stalking them throughout an afternoon. So we had no more money issues then....
we found a magical place.
A respite from the outside world and all the horrors and karaoke that that entails. A place called the Robinson's Mall. We ate @ BK (my first time ever) and window shopped to our heart's content.
From Manila we went to the port and caught a ferry to Cebu. The ferry journey took 24 hours and allowed us to make friends with some Cebuites who advised us that the guesthouse we were going to stay at was in a really nasty area and we would hate it and/or get killed there.
We ignored them and had a really cool time.
we wandered about in the downtown area - which has the rather unfortunate name of Colon - well into the night, visited the cinema, watched a chess tournament, avoided the transsexuals (who wanted to play with Ros' dreads and erm I don't know what they had planned for me....) and generally didn't get killed or robbed.
From Cebu we got another ferry (this one was a superfast catamaran) to the island of Bohol. On the way we watched The Last Castle on DVD but as the ferry was super fast we only got to see half it.....
In Bohol we stayed in a place called Nuts Huts near a town called Loboc. We stayed in a cabin on stilts above (and slightly to the left of) the river. We spent our days swimming up the river, swimming back down the river again, visiting Chocolate Hills (which aren't made of chocolate) and visiting the tarsier sanctuary - teeny little monkeys, big eyes, tiny brains. A sort of primate version of Natalie Imbruglia.
And our nights were spent our nights lying awake wondering what the hell that noise was and trying to decide if it was big enough to eat us. Jungles eh? Noisy bloody places.....
After that we went to the divers' paradise of Panglau. A tiny island just off Bohol. Now the problem with a diver's paradise is that it's chock full of divers. And they're horrible people. Worse than Israelis – see previous travelogues - loud, arrogant, obnoxious and often drunk....
So we found a quieter beach and had some snorkelling fun before travelling back to Cebu city for a few more mugging free days and death free nights.
then we spent a few nights on the island of Malapasqua (which roughly translates as Shitty Christmas). Where we were annoyed by more divers and a Welsh bloke promised us free beer all night if Ros spunned fire. so she spunned and we got drunk. Then there were some cocktails and a few arguments with a different Welsh bloke, a fall, some nasty cuts that got infected, a flight to Manila and then a flight to Singapore.
Quite a lot really.
So here I am in Singapore. and my net time is at an end.
Bye for now. not sure when I get to talk to you again.
Hugs n stuff
Cantus
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