Notes on Kalibo–Caticlan Transfer

I'm starting to think that Boracay will be a yearly pilgrimage for me. I was captivated by its charm ever since my first visit last year. So when the I found out that PAL had a seat sale to Boracay last December I didn't think twice and booked a ticket for January.

The flight from Manila to Kalibo was thankfully uneventful. The weather was nice and cooperating albeit the strong winds and news of typhoons at the eastern parts of the Philippines. The newly built terminal was a surprise. I found out that Zest Air and China Southern flies direct to Kalibo now from Shanghai.

We boarded a van for the 2 hours transfer from Kalibo Airport to Caticlan Jetty. Earplug in my ear set to my "lullaby" playlist on my i-touch and I was prepared to doze off the whole duration of the trip. But the cramped seat and the breakneck speed driving keeps me awake. I had 3 American girls behind me giggling and suddenly exclaiming "I want that puppy" and "three" and "awww cute" and "that's five, no six!"

They were counting the Askals, or Stray dogs. Apparently, there are no stray dogs in their countries. Oh well, I was not sleepy and I joined their fun, counting the dogs by myself. I got easily bored and made my own list of anything too.

So here are the notes on List of Kalibo to Caticlan Thingeys;

4 cell phone calls answered by the driver while driving.

34 stray dogs

8 cows grazing at the grassy roadside

1 cemetery

14 schools

3 twenty-songs-playlist

5 albums (Finished 500 Days of Summer OST without skipping)

9 Y-fork roads

3 CUBAO - PASAY BUSSES!

4 miles of seaside road

a group of Kite surfers

3 foreigners seating behind me, giggling, laughing and enjoying the local sceneries

4 disgruntled local couples who can't take the 3 noisy foreigners

lost count on vehicles overtaken, I stopped at 33.

1 hour and 56 minutes Travel

Also I managed to acquire two new foursquare badges. "I'm on a boat" and "Explorer" Badges. Yey.

Backpacking Bicol - Details on Distance Travel Travels II

Balading Beach

Let me tell you something about Sta.Magdalena. If you look at google map and zoomed at the southernmost tip of Bicol, you will see the port city of Matnog, the jump-off point for bus going to Visayas through Samar. Trace the shoreline to the right and you will see another town almost facing the Pacific Ocean. That's Santa Magdalena. It looks like an island town, There's the sea in front, Mountains at the back and rice fields in between. My dad was a fisherman and my mom was an amazon hehe. Perfect! The place is so isolated that not even the Japanese were able to access it during WW2! (I asked my granpa what was he doing during that time and he said he was just plowing his fields) Unbelievable! To think that Gen.Douglas McArthur landed on the shores of Samar which is visible on a clear day if you look east. Apparently, the trip to my place was considered a quest those days. Jap and American soldiers alike have more possibility of being swallowed by a constrictor, poisoned by snakes and tarantulas, or drowning in quicksand... than being killed by a bullet.

So from Sorsogon, we travelled south inland, passing rolling hills and mountains, separated by rice fields with Mt.Bulusan looking closer. The aroma of the ocean is so omnipresent here, that I gleefully updated BPNM and CM that we are really near every 15 mins, that lasted for almost 2 hours hehehe. (Blame it to my oversensitive olfactory system due to my more than average-size smelling organ) I just hope they enjoyed the trip, there's no rolling hills and greens at Tarlac (BPNM's province) or fog covered mountain/volcano at Pangasinan ( CM's) At last (for real) we all smelled the salty air and saw a glimmer of blue somewhere behind a hill. BPNM was a little confused, she associates palm trees with beaches not with rice fields. We arrived at our not so finished house at nightfall and proceeded to clean up. Well, at least the bathroom has strong waters and immaculately white tiles, very out of place in a rundown house of ours. We raided my Lola for dinner, she didn't know we were in town.

The next day we went beach combing! I woke up with the crow of roosters and the smell of macopa burning. The essence of rural living! Then our first problem occurred to us, we have a stove but no gasul. No Gasul, No food! Question: How do you solve a problem like that? Answer: Realize that the whole barrio is your relative up to certain degrees once, twice, thrice removed.Hehehe.

We went to Balading beach, and once again the trip on the previous day was well worth it. We were rewarded with semi-white sand beach, not as powdery but soft and comfortable enough. The beach was gently sloping up to breast-deep waters. And the best thing? We were alone! After the girls finished applying copious amounts of sun protection and stripped off in their 2 piece (abeng and elek, maglaway kayo!) they proceeded examining the waters if it is cold enough to check if anyone will notice if they were to pee, and I proceeded to the formidable SAWANG (BPNM is a living testament to this) , to snorkel.

Balading is not a beach for sissies. Although on high tide the beach can only go as high as neck deep, and there's an ample meter of sand under your feet to safely wade to, beyond that is a rich seabed of fauna. There are seaweeds, anemones and occasional corals on the seafloor. A dream for snorkels, and nightmare for seaweeds-are-icky-they're-touching-my-legs wimps. There're no waves at Balading, the waves crashes a good distance away (20 meters or so) where the Sawang starts. Sawang is the local dialect for sea wall. You can walk the whole 20 meters in knee deep waters, and when you see the water turns dark blue, you know you're at the edge of Sawang already. Here I spent my time snorkeling, diving, and chasing school of nemos. I reckoned it is a good 10-15 feet deep, but the waters are so clear it could be 20-30 feet deep. There were corals hanging at the seawall, lots of fishes taking refuge and some occasional coral snake. There was a resident little octupus there as well but I didn't get to shake tentacles with him. Once I saw a big fish with a horn in front of its head, looking like a shallow water version for an anglerfish (later food for us).

I was so amazed that I successfully coaxed BPNM to go snorkeling with me. She said she'd done snorkeling at Galera, but she failed to mention that she was wearing an effing life vest! There're no life vests here, only my snorkel set and an extra pair of goggles. So we dived at the edge of Sawang, we were making these thumbs up signal like a pro diver, and I was pointing here and there so she could see the fishes. I'm no aqua-man, so eventually I have to surface and breath (she had the mouthpiece and I only have goggles) , I accidentally released her hand... and she panicked! Even with the constant reminder not to panic if I accidentally released her hand she still panicked. She even forgot she can breath because she still had mouthpiece! So there she was trashing and drowning the only person who's trying to make her float. I dived and pushed her upwards, She almost lost my aqua shoes (which she borrowed), My whole body and extended arms where all under water (but i still can't feel the bottom) It all happened so fast and I'm still baffled how I was able to react with calmness under the situation (for example I saw my aqua shoes sinking "sayang aqua shoes ko!" and I dived to retrieve it, THEN I went back to BPNM to push her up,WHILE consciously biting my shoe to avoid it from floating again! )Fortunately she had a survival instinct to turn and face the seawall and paddled frantically towards it. The waves carried her towards to semi-safety --- semi-safety because she was scratched, wounded, and shaken by the wall. But, still she was safe, battered but safe AND apologizing for the lost shoe!

All this happened when Churchmate was busy picture taking at the safety of the shallow waters and catching starfishes. The true amount of bodily harm came to view when we surfaced. BPNM legs was scratched by the sharp rocks of the Sawang, and a skin was opened in one of her toe, and was bleeding profusely. If there were sharks around, I'm sure they'd show up before Glock 9 or Francis M finished a word. And so, feeling guilty (me), stupid (BPNM) and oblivious (CM) we went back up to shore to heal the wounded (I had several scratch in my palms and fingers). You have to give it to BPNM, in a near death experience, all she taught was apologizing to me because she panicked "OK lang pare, nag panic ako" Maddapakingshe.... Tamang guilt trip! (later that night, in our inuman session, she said she confessed thinking "is this it? This is a pathetic way to die!")

We were there almost for a half day, from 9am - 2pm. We had our lunch at the Resort's resto. Newayz, I was asked by my Lola to get some buko for her. My uncle's house is just walking distance from the beach and so we walked. I thought, I'll experience being a monkey for a while, I really wanna climb a coconut tree. But instead, my uncle asked me to carry a very very long panungkit! Everyone is a sissy these days! What happened to hard labor! My mom even climbed a coconut tree once when I was younger (being the amazona she is) We ate the first 3 felled bukos on the spot. We had no spoons so we used the coconut's hard skin. Newayz, we got around 7 or eight bukos, oozing with juice. Which ChurchMate geekily pointed out - is a form of Isophrophyl Alcohol! - which was confirmed by wounded and limping Butiki when it trickled down her legs and hands "POTA HAPDI! "

That night, we ate dinner at my Lola, with 7 Bukos as pambayad. Only to find out that what she needed was NIYOG for GATA not fress BUKO! I'm really messing up my bicol dialect.

Saturday Chasing Pigeons

And this is what I've been doing this weekend.... Chasing flying Pigeons. Unlike in the Philippines, birds here in Singapore and fearless. They gather around you to peck the food you throw.

Most of the times even if you shoo them they just hop and RUN away instead of FLY. So on a hot Saturday afternoon, I have decided that I am in much need of a pam-porma shades. But being the cheapskate that I am, I went to Little India for the everything $1.90 Store. 5 minutes later I was off weaving in and out the backstreets of Hindoo, Baboo, and whathaveyou lanes with may aviator shades, backpack, my Holga, Digicam and a tourist map. Bwahahaha. Yeah I know, I'm a poser.

For a Saturday, Little India was a little quiet and the usual mass of our dark skinned foreign workers, were not to be found. My initial plan was to take portraits of them and print it out from the nearby photo store. I contented myself on sitting on a side street North-Indian canteen while watching a song and dance number by Amithab Bachman in his 30's and a captivating leading lady with flat belly and brown eyes. 

Them Pigeons were everywhere.

I kept half of the prata I'm eating (sadness) and walked to the little park I passed before. I threw a piece a size of my fingernails. The clouds went dark with the mass of wings and feathers (I'm exaggerating) and they descended on me, specifically beside my feet.

I weaved my camera in the midst of them to no avail. They were enjoying the prata bread. 10 seconds later, they began scattering again, some are looking at my direction waiting for another bit. I did not fail them. This process repeated five times until I realized that I am actually giving away my 3 dollar snack. So, I poured a generous amount of curry on it and gobbled it before the gazing pigeons.

 

Needless to say, their interest in me were gone as I swallow the last morsel of bread. At this point, when they wont come near me, I began chasing them. I started shooing the remaining birds near me, but when they just hopped instead of fly, I made noises and threw my (holga) lens cap at them. This generated the desired reaction.

I kept chasing them for the next fifteen minutes and I wonder what I looked like to the Indians at the park and the foreigners at the hostel across the street.

Pretty neat eh?

Can Somebody Tell Me What Happened?

It’s been two years. Since I set foot here in Singapore.

Two years?! Instead of losing weight because of homesickness, I’m gaining more for some reason. Stress it seems, went well with me.

What the heck, is that a double chin I’m seeing?

I blame it to Murkabak, Cheesy Fries and Hawker Centers selling Kanin Baboy.

Jalan Jalan at Jonker

Pictures of the week

Did you know that Jonker got its name from the word Bonker? A slang that means "to go crazy" in most European countries. Melaka have been a Dutch colony in the past and along with the architecture and other way of living they brought was their street slangs at the time. The particular street in Melaka was named as Bonker Walk because of the hive of activities going on. Somehow, somewhere as history flew by, the name just evolved into Jonker.

I bet you didn't know that. Because I made that up.

I want to go back!

   

Melaka in My Mind

Notes on Melaka that Blows the Mind

I don't want to  divulge on the history of the Melaka, or the tourist spots or what to see,nor the tourist traps to avoid, because we have Google and Lonely Planet for that, but instead I want attempt to describe the Melaka impressions on my mind. If there is one place I'd rather be lost, It would have to be in Melaka. It is the kind of place that I wouldn't mind wandering around and couldn't care less wherever my feet brings me. The city exudes of history, both melancholy and vibrant alternating in every turn of the corner. From the quaint streets Jalan Tun Ali to the chaotic energy of Jonker Walk, back to the silent avenue of Hong Tua Mall, to the seedy corners of Ocean Plaza, and straight up to eerie Bukit Cina, every building, every sight have different personas you'd just like to know.  

It was Friday, past 6PM but the sun was just about to begin its descent. The weather was neither here nor there, cloudy and greyish but the rain was undecided if rain should fall. The air was thick and humid. I took my chances. The hotel is located at Jalan Tun Ali, a discreet street with a derelict factory building on my side facing a grand looking hotel, a road junction is at the far end. I was trying to locate Hong Tuah Mall to get my bearings. At least according to the tourist map, I've decided to make it my landmark. When we talk about a "Mall" a humongous building full of shops comes to mind. Throngs of people should be inevitable. But instead I was greeted by a metal plate on a polished slab of rock, raised in a dais welcoming me to Hong Tuah Mall. It turned out that Hong Tuah Mall is a 1.5KM stretch of shops and cafe along Hong Tuah Boulevard. Supposedly, as per the welcoming plaque the place should be teeming with tourist and revellers. Looked deader than a ghost town. Perhaps it was weather, or the holiday, but all shops and cafes are closed.  Whoever printed the map must have thought that a creek is the same as a river, because I got past it without noticing it (but i did see and smell a creek/canal) I ended up at OCEAN mall, and old mall with refusing to give up. This is where Melaka becomes interesting. The city was awarded as a Heritage Site. The whole area of shop houses are taken with utmost care. Whole streets and districts becomes pieces of history unchanged for many years (except maybe their interiors) Imagine modern day Vigan, that's what it is.In a bid to preserve history, even the newly constructed residential houses are fashioned after the old ones.  On the other hand, recent structures seemed to be abandoned and neglected. Ocean plaza looms like a giant dilapidated factory, and the buildings around it are greying with age. Melaka wants to be both Old and New at the same time, but it really is New but Old in a sense. The highlight of my stay was Jonker street. In Philippines, I like Quiapo by day and Malate at night, just for the sake of people watching. Jonker is like Raon Street on a weekend multiply by ten. Multitude of people walks, bargains, eat, performs, sells, gawk, cook, laugh, take pictures all at the same time in a stretch of a 10-foot wide street. I'm a people person, hence Jonker jives with my personality. The name itself sounds funny. Going Bonkers at Jonkers.

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I find Melaka one of the the most interesting places I've been to. I'm a big fan or architectural wonders, historical sites, and happy people. If I have time, I will definitely go back.

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Boracay II – Notes on Distance Travelled

Boracay by Dusk

It is dusk and we are riding a trike.
Earlier on, we recieved a text asking us if we can go to a certain Puka Beach to gather Puka shells. I asked the cafe barista how far it is. He looked at his watch, frown creased his forehead and said "alis kayo? dapat ngayon na" (you should leave now) with the emphasis on NGAYON na.

So off we go on a 100 pesos (one way!), 20 Minute trike ride going inland of boracay. We passed the end of station 1 at Friday's and went uphill. Gone were the foreigners, gone were the beaches, gone were the resorts. Instead we were greeted by the natural provincial scene. Shanties and nipa huts aligned along roads to the right and a view of the vast ocean to the left. The farther we go in the more local life we see. At the beach, tourists are common sights, but inland we can feel the stares following our speeding trike. Nothing hostile though, It is more of a curiosity towards us, obliously tourist pale Pinoys, and what we are doing this far from the beach. 

The trike driver never runs out of praises of how isolated the cove is, how clear it's water, and the absence of seeweeds.   We arrived at Puka beach uneventfully, and the sight was quite interesting.

Puka beach is what you'll consider a "local's beach". There are no high end resorts, and no loud bars. Instead we were greeted by a community-made welcome ark and the sound of children laughing and people cheering. At the left part of the entrance there was a beach volleyball competition, but instead of bikini babes playing, and throngs of tourist as audience, we have a mix of old and young, both male and female players with their families and neigbors cheering as loud as they can. Dark skinned Aklanons with flashy white smiles followed by peals of laughter.
At the beach there are a group of teenagers swimming with their shirts and jeans. Further down the shore, half dozen Bancas where lazily floating and swaying to and fro with the waves. They are used to carry pails of fishes and supplies, and not to ferry tourists.  

As opposed to powdery sands associated with Boracay, the beach at Puka is pebbly and littered with well, Puka Shells. We walked a for some time and instead of soft thuds from the sand, we can hear the crunch of our every step. Puka has its own merits though. While this is not the part of beach for proper relaxation, it has the greatest view of the sun setting. With the horizon uncluttered by the sails, and no passers by shading the view, you can observe the blue sky turn yellow, to orange to red and to violet tinge.

We reckoned that if we turn back time before Boracay became what it is now. We'd be somewhere like Puka beach too. Rustic and cheery in a natural way.    

Manila LRTs - Photos of Distance Travelled

Shots taken in different LRT stations in Philippines with my beat up Holga 120 and various slide films

Between travelling by sea and air. I’d prefer the sea, but when it comes to land transportation, I go hands down with trains. It can burrow underground moving through the claustrophobic walls of concrete. Sometimes it runs along the ground racing against the EDSA traffic. Most of the time it moves through the city above roofs with sweeping panoramic panoramic view of the Manila skyline.Its like neither here or there and I like being in between.

Doroteo Jose Interchange

Carriedo Station

Libertad

Cubao

Underneath Pedro Gil

 

Emergence to the light

** afterthought, I just realized some of them got a little of tilt shift effect. Weird.