Philippines, Pt. 8
I am on the plane as I write this, having finished my vegetarian meal. I am happy that I have this option to pre-order a vegetarian meal. They are actually better than the normal meals, and you get fed before everyone, so take my word for it, on international flights, order a vegetarian meal and you will be sure to be more satisfied. Anyway, I thought I would be industrious and write my final bog entry for this leg of my Philippines journey while I have so much time. I am sure to be much too pressed once I get back home and I do not want to delay these posts. In my opinion, stories are much better when told fresh. That is why I am annoyed with my blog post seven. I tried on two different accounts to post it but to no avail. Oh, well. I cannot control my technological situation. I do feel fortunate to have decent access, in general, to the internet, unlike my step-brother, Erik, who lives in the middle of nowhere and has one cell tower, appropriately called the “Tower,” for the whole area. It is more adventurous that way, and I have no doubt that at some point in my near future, say within the next two years, I will find myself in a remote area where I am secluded from even the Internet. For now, I can relish in my connection with the outside world. You all know how much I enjoy remaining in the loop with all things current in my little sphere of family and friends. This trip to Romblon was truly extraordinary in many ways.
It was adventure defined and was a good time to build a relationship with Erik, who is the youngest of all the siblings. He really is a good kid, although he and I do not have the same senses of traveling. He is probably more adventurous than I am in terms of what he can do (e.g. we swung out on a rope swing, having jumped off a cliff, over the water about 10 feet below, and he just did it immediately, but I hesitated because I had never done anything like that before) but I have much more determination than he does (e.g. we went hiking in a deserted national park—story to follow—and he kept wanting to stop because his foot hurt and he was tired, but I was resolute in my desire to hike until it got dark, despite the fact that we had no trail to follow). So, he failed the test of being an ideal travel partner, but he was good for getting us to go in the right direction (I am still suffering from an ineffective inner compass) and it was nice to travel with a male. It’s sad to say, but people treated me different. Sure, I was still the one to communicate with everyone because that is how I am—again a part of that determination and vision for how a trip should progress—but I felt safer knowing there was someone else with me and not just another person, but a guy who tends to not be as vulnerable to other people as women. I was the one who got all the stares while he was largely left alone. So all in all, I must say, I liked traveling with Erik. He was certainly better than my sisters!! (Girls, if you are reading this, I know you won’t be offended because you know this is true. I do not think that you would even think of going to a wild island where every experience was a gamble.)
I like to travel with people who do not complain about uncertain situations, who smile at every turn even when they are tired or sunburned or their feet hurt, who are always up to a new experience, who will walk to save money, who will sleep in less than ideal places to save some cash, who will eat bread and peanuts for three days and rejoice and be thankful each time they eat them (this is what we consumed, and I could tell that Erik was less than thrilled about this fare and he actually stopped eating much, which concerned me a little since we were doing so much hiking and moving), who do not mind the heat or the cold, but deal with either in an appropriate manner, who do not mind getting lost if I am leading or who have a better sense of direction than me, who love people and will treat the locals like their family even when being a little mistrustful, which is necessary when you are traveling, and who have great ideas for activities or enjoy following when I am the one to come up with the ideas.
So, I am grateful that Erik had some of these, but most of all, it was a period to treasure having the companionship of a brother. I loved saying that he and I are brother and sister. There was some sort of bond there that was strengthened just by saying those words. It is true that by saying something, the reality changes. Just by saying that he and I are brother and sister, I felt immediately closer. Our parents’ relationship might be a little complicated, and I might not understand everything, but Erik and I have decided to make the best of what we have been given and to enjoy one another as we are both having great adventures here in the Philippines. I am blessed to have a “brother” like Erik. (Erik, if you are reading this, I hope you don’t get angry. No, I suppose you won’t get angry. You do not do that very often, but I hope this does not surprise you. That is why I said on the beach that I have enjoyed the trip despite the fact that you and I are different travelers—to which you chuckled. I think you know it too, but I think you also share my concluding sentiments. If not, we can talk when you get to Baguio. Love you!)
Now to the actual story: I might jump around a little bit, but those of you who have been following my blog, have no doubt come to expect that. I am hoping that you will read this entry if you have the after Christmas blues at work or you are doing laundry and waiting for the load to be done, or maybe you have some down time because you need a break from your Christmas “vacation;” wherever you are as you read this, I pray that you are blessed by the observations and witticisms. I am blessed to share them, so I know you will share in my blessings and smile and have fun with all the descriptions and crazy things I get myself into ☺
Romblon—Three Islands in the Visayas
The province of Romblon is technically composed of three islands called Tablas, the island on which Erik is volunteering, Romblon, and Sibuyan, where we spent the majority of our time. There are also small, insignificant islands that can be spotted off each of the big islands, but these are really not counted because few people inhabit them and there is not much more than coastline for any of these islands. The Romlon islands are located in a part of the Philippines called the Visayas. This would be considered a region like Northern Luzon, the big island on which Manila and Baguio are located, and has a lot of great islands and beaches. This is probably the primary area to go if you want to see beautiful beaches and experience the tropics of the Philippines. The Romblon Islands fortunately are not as touristy as many of the other areas in the Visayas. There are many distinct reasons for this. Here are a couple: there are very few if any notable resorts in the area; the tourist office is not very helpful; the coastline is quite rugged, and although you can get to some really nice beaches, you must hire a bangka—a small fishing boat— to bring you to the desired place; there are few knowledgeable guides that are accessible to people who do not know anyone on the islands. I am glad it is this way. Only the strong willed and determined tourists will appreciate these islands, leaving them relatively peaceful and unadulterated by the majority of tourists.
Travel Details
For me, this was the opportunity of a “lifetime.” (I put lifetime in quotes because there is a caveat: I know that I will have many of these opportunities and have had many such rival experiences in the past, so I wanted to use a familiar phrase but also to distinguish the fact that my time in Romblon was not quite as monumental as the phrase suggests.) I was the only foreigner on the ferry on the way down to meet Erik, and I prefer it this way. I wrote in my journal that when you are a foreigner and there are other tourists in the vicinity, you are immediately associated with those people, regardless of who they are and what they are doing. All the locals see is a population of similar-looking people who must also be similar in their thoughts and regards. I do not enjoy being judged based on a prevailing group when my intent and actions may not necessarily match up with those of the other people. So, to prevent preconceived notions and from being linked with people I do not know, I prefer to be the only foreigner. The ferry carried both trucks and large vehicles along with people. There were some benches that lined the sides of the boat and a few tables near the canteen, but the majority of the seating was in the form of a bunk bed. Each passenger got a green plastic leather-covered bunk that was about six feet in length and spaced about two feet apart—enough for walking and moving about, except for the fact that Filipinos do not travel light, and the space between the beds was filled with sacks and boxes of the travelers.
I used by backpack and a sarong as a pillow, which worked out well enough. I slept about 1/3 of the time that I was on the ferry—about 11 hours in total. I sailed on the Diana on the way there from Batangas to Odiongan and the Rosario from Romblon Town to Batangas. All in all, the travel was a bit tedious. I started at 11:40 pm on Tuesday night from Baguio City, taking a bus to Manila. From Manila, I took a bus at 5:30 am on Wednesday morning, arriving at the Batangas Pier around 7:30 am. I staked out a tree in the shade and slept and read while lounging against my backpack and avoiding the stares of the passersby. I boarded the ferry at 3 pm after approximately 8 hours of waiting. The ferry left at 5:15 pm and arrived in Odiongan, Tablas Island, at 4:15 am on Thursday. From the ferry, I took a jeepney that was packed to the brim with people. Not only was every seat taken on the bench, on which I sat, but also there was a 2 x 6 placed in the center on which another seven passengers sat. I was on that for about 2 and half hours, arriving in Carmen close to 7 am. Erik met me there with a tricycle driver, and we made the 20-minute trike ride to Sugod (pronounced So—good), which was the jumping off point for Thursday’s adventure.
On the way back to Manila, travel was a little more straightforward. In Magdiwang on Sibuyan Island, we walked three kilometers from our boarding house to the pier, where I stood in a makeshift line of people cramming to get their tickets. Filipinos are known to be incapable of lining up properly, and the line is not generally encouraged in the provinces. We boarded one ferry at 10:30 am, practically jumping onto the moving ferry by following the throng of Filipinos who were so anxious to board the ferry that they literally jumped onto the ramp that was only half attached to the pier. We pushed our way up the stairs with the best of them, which was not difficult since we are a head taller than the average Filipino. I don’t think we knocked over any lolas or lolos¬—the name used for grandparents or as a sign of respect to elderly people. We landed in Romblon Town, which is the main city of the middle island and the provincial capital, and Erik remained on his ship while I transferred to another ferry. We left at 1:45 pm on Saturday, and we arrived in Odiongan at 5:30 pm, leaving that port at 6:30 pm. Technically, I was not supposed to have a bed, but there was one extra bed that was available. What a blessing from God! Finally, at 5:30 am after having stood in the bowls of the ship for more than 45 minutes with the other eager Filipinos, we landed in Batangas where I ran for the bus to take me to Manila. Sound complicated? It was less complicated than it seems, but it was much more aggressive than I ever thought possible. Filipinos may be infamous for their inability to gauge time correctly, but they sure are good at traveling, not brooking any sort of barrier that may prevent them from arriving at their destination.
Tablas Island
Erik and I spent all of Thursday on this island. I arrived in Odiongan, which is one of three ports on the island. Tablas is the biggest of the three islands and it also supports a small airport. (Yes, I could have flown but that would have been much more expensive and not as convenient since their exists a much stricter schedule for the planes that fly from Manila to Tugdan, the small airport on the eastern side of the island. I traveled like the locals!) The coastline is gorgeous and rugged with large rocks that create an impregnable barrier in many places. There are less than 75,000 people who live on the whole island, so you can see that it is very rural and simple. Most of the people are simple farmers, growing rice and coconuts, and/or are fishermen. Did you know that the smallest fish in the world is found in the Philippines? I didn’t but apparently it is, and it tastes good. (I like the fish here. It is so fresh and fishy. I will miss the fish when I leave.)
Everyone told me to take a rest once I got to Sugod, but I refused because I had not been doing anything except resting, so I was rearing to go. The family that feeds Erik was really kind to me. They gave me one of their rooms in which to place all my belongings and to sleep. They even fed me breakfast and dinner and a light breakfast early the next morning before we grabbed the ferry to go to Sibuyan. That was so lovely and unexpected to be treated like family, like the rest of the volunteers. I should not have been surprised; it was simply a normal courtesy, I’m sure. I told Erik that I wanted to go see this place called the Enchanted Hidden Lagoon, which I had seen in my travel guide. We asked “Mom Tess,” Erik’s host, and she knew exactly what we were talking about, even giving us advice on how to get there. She found someone who was going back home, which was incidentally in the same direction we needed to go. He led us through the mountain, back to his home, which was located in a community down by a small bay where there were many bangkas sitting on the beach.
The man who led us on a great hike up and down the mountain also invited us into his home for lunch that his mother prepared. It was a really generous offer, so we used the food that we planned for lunch as an afternoon snack or merienda, as they call it, for everyone who tagged along with us. Erik and I shared one bag, which he carried at first and on the downward climb, but which I took for the majority of the climb upward. (I do not have the greatest balance when it comes to hiking down slippery slopes. Even without the bag, I still managed to fall a couple of times, and I completely ripped my pants open. Thankfully, I was wearing underwear because it literally ripped one whole side of my pants open. Darn rock! I got them fixed later that night for 50 cents by the local seamstress. I really had to brace myself the next day when I carried my 40-pound bag for about five hours hiking. (I need to get better at this. One, I need to learn to carry more weight because I would like to do more serious hiking in the future with all the camping equipment and food, etc. Two, I need to learn how to walk more quickly when going down. I am quite fast going up because I enjoy the challenge and running has prepared me to do well, but my body almost freezes when I go down. I think I am subconsciously afraid of falling.)
Once we got to the little bay, we walked around the edge of the water and to a man’s house, which had been built on top of these great big rocks. It was so cool in a Swiss Family Robinson kind of way. In fact all the houses we saw that day reminded me of the Swiss Family Robinson, so secluded and exuding adventure and survival. After lunch, we got someone to take us out on his bangka to lead us to the lagoon. It took us a while to get to the lagoon, and Erik and I were laughing about the fact that every time we moved closer to the shore, we thought we had reached the lagoon. Finally we did reach the destination. I must say that the lagoon was cool, but it was itself not enchanted; however, the rocks around the lagoon and its general setting were pretty cool. The rocks were razor sharp; I almost cut myself on them because they were so sharp.
Stupidly, Erik and I wanted to swim from the lagoon to the next small island, but our guides told us it was not safe. Duh! I could have made it had it been fresh water, but the salt water was really difficult to manage or so I discovered when I went swimming near that island after our boat driver took us there. There were lots of little jellyfish swimming in the shallow parts, so Erik refused to get in, but I just found a spot where I couldn’t see any jellyfish, and I jumped in, swimming out pretty far. I just prayed that I wouldn’t get hurt and believed I would be fine. It is amazing how fearless you can be when you just tell yourself everything is going to be all right. Besides ingesting quite a bit of salt water, I had a great swim. It was a perfect way to stretch out my sore muscles from the climb. Our boat driver and our guide went away for a little while to go buy fish directly from a boat that was in the process of fishing. I had never seen anything like that before! Talk about getting your food right from the source ☺
It took us about two hours to get from the little island back to Sugod, which was an amazing ride amidst the waves and under the blazing sun. I am not much for sun, preferring to hide underneath the shade of a tree or an umbrella, but it felt good to be fried by such pure sunlight. I was being fried like a frittata in a cast iron pan, and I couldn’t do anything about it or hide from the sun’s rays, so I happily resigned myself to my fate, only to hurt later that night. I have decided that when you face an unavoidable situation—I tried putting on sunscreen, but even that did not completely protect me—there is no sense destroying the moment with complaints. I guess that is where the expression “Grin and bear it” comes from. I like that. Sometimes you just have to grin and be happy despite the load and the challenges. You can always deal with your problems at the right time, but until that time comes, it is better to leave them alone and concentrate instead on the blessings on whatever you might be undertaking.
Sibuyan Island
After getting back from our long bangka ride, I took a long shower in the outside shower at the volunteer’s “dorm.” (It is really just a house on the outside of the town and really nice actually with a spacious common room and a kitchen and a line for drying clothes.) I repacked my bag and went to sleep early, so I would have strength for another full day. I woke up at 4:15 am and got myself ready. Mom Tess was already up and she gave us some breakfast to start us off right. Our hired tricycle driver was eager and ready before Erik was even up. We took the ferry from San Augustin, a 30-minute trike ride from Sugod and the main port on that side of the island. A few people hitched rides on our trike, which we were happy to give. (It is customary there to give people who are going in the same direction as you a ride since transportation can often be tricky in the provinces.) The ferry ride was long, lasting about four hours. As soon as we disembarked from the ferry, another tricycle driver approached Erik and offered his services to us. He charged quite a high fee to take us where we wanted to go—Mt. Guiting Guiting National Park—but he decreased the price a little and was helpful, so we went along with him and reached the park after a pretty bumpy ride on the “national road,” which is nothing more than dirt and rocks in most places and some concrete in places few and far between. I got a kick out of the fact that this was the best road on the island.
Our trike driver dropped us off about one kilometer from the Visitor’s Center. I started the walk off right with a big fall on my butt. Bam! It was one of three big falls I had that day. Thankfully, it was only soft clay and not rocks or concrete onto which I was falling. When we reached the park, we saw that everything was seemingly deserted. It was the most bizarre thing I have seen in a long time. This is a national park, with a lot of protected areas; yet, there was no one there. The buildings were locked and everything was overgrown with weeds. Erik noticed some signs of life, such as dishes and chairs that both looked well used. While we were exploring and deciding what we should do, another couple showed up. (Our original plan was to climb to the peak of Mt. Mayo, which can be done in a 24-hour period. We wanted to sleep on the mountain for the night, and then continue the next day. But since we were unable to find a guide or anyone to lead us, this dream was moot. There was no way you could find the path up the mountain without a guide. Sibuyan is known for its dense forests, the densest in the Philippines.)
I said that we should just go since we could only go there and back within a five-hour period. I had a compass and a watch and figured that’s all you really need to prevent getting lost. The couple that showed up delayed us a little because they suggested that we all hike together. I did not like this idea, but I did not want to be mean and refuse them, so I agreed, but in my heart I was telling them to reconsider. They took too long deliberating the no-guide reality, and I just took the initiative and said that we planned to continue without a guide and did not want to lose any more time. So we effectively got rid of the whiney couple and started off on our own adventure. I think Erik would have been content to remain at the camp, but I dragged him along. I told him that we started this together and we would end it together.
We had our lunch of bread and peanuts in a clearing that had a perfect view of the mountains.
This was the only time we actually saw the mountains; the remainder of the time, we could only see the dense forest enclosed about us. We hiked for about 2 and half hours both ways. The going was steep and tricky at some parts. There was a visible trail for most of it, and Erik was smart to mark two places that needed some “breadcrumbs,” so we could find them again on our way back. I would not have thought of this, and had Erik not been there, I probably would have wandered around much longer! I was the one with the compass, so I confirmed we were going in the “right” direction. (At lunch, I determined that the mountains were off to the south and southeast, so I was constantly confirming that we were going in those directions.) On the way back, I was reminded of the Alfred Hitchcock movie North by Northwest because those were the directions to which we needed to adhere in order to arrive safely back. We did lose our way a little and tried to cut through the wild of the forest. I finally felt like I was an Amazon pioneer—minus the machete unfortunately—in search of lost civilization or something. I liked it. I liked the feeling of getting so soaking wet with my own sweat and feeling every fiber of my being stretched by the exertion of another hill and another challenge. I loved the rapid inhale and exhale, seeking enough air to fill the increasing need my body had for precious oxygen. It was all so very gratifying.
Then, on the descent, all I was looking forward to was the clear brook we had passed at the onset of our hike. That is where I planned to take a bath to refresh my salty and taut body. Erik and I made a bet of how long it would take us to get back to the camp, and I suggested that the one who guessed closest gets to take a bath first. I won even though I started going the wrong way, to which Erik gently corrected me. I am so predictable. I got so excited about the conquest that I stopped paying attention to my surroundings ☺ Good thing Erik was not far behind and said, “Uh, Kelsey, you took the wrong path!” I laughed and still won!
After we had both cleaned up and had hung our clothes on a laundry line that was literally crawling with big ants, we heard a noise, and sure enough, there was the couple we had met earlier that afternoon and a guide! We were all so surprised, and it was funny to hear what actually happened. Since it was not the high season for hiking, there was only one guide and a helper. The guide had been on our same ferry, and the helper had been at the park, but I guess he was sleeping when we all arrived and did not hear anything! The couple had remained at the camp until the guide came back around 3 pm. They went on a short hike and returned about 6 pm. I was so glad that we had gone on without them. Our day was not ruined by any means. Sure, it was very different than what I had expected, but it was still quite memorable and adventurous, which are the only two things I seek on my travels. The guide opened up the Visitor’s Center for us, so we could sleep indoors. I had purchased a mosquito net expressly for sleeping outside, so I was determined to use it! Instead of sleeping inside on one of the couches, I chose to set up my sleeping bag on the bamboo porch outside with my net covering me. This was so silly because there were not even any bugs, but I really just wanted to use the net! After about four hours, I deemed my desire fatuous and returned inside to sleep on one of the couches for the remaining five hours.
We left the park by 6 am and started walking back to town, which was about a 6-kilometer venture. We hoped to catch a tricycle on its way into town, which happened about 1/3 of the way through the walk. We hopped into a trike that only had another two passengers. It is pretty impressive how many people they can fit onto those things. Erik said that he experienced 15 people on one little three-wheeled vehicle. Amazing! On our way to Vicky’s Place, where we stayed on Saturday night, we met our driver from the day before. He swung his trike around and followed us to the house, and he convinced us to hire him for the day. We paid about $11 for his services then paid for the gas, which cost about $5. All in all, this whole trip cost me about $100, which is pretty amazing considering all the traveling I did. The Philippines is a really inexpensive place in which to travel: the food costs minimally, the transportation is much lower compared to more developed areas, and you can get good lodging for less than $10 depending on where you are. This is a great reality for adventurers like Erik and me.
On our last day, we really made the most of the daylight by visiting two waterfalls, about 35 kilometers apart from one another, which is huge on a small island like Sibuyan. Both Eric, the driver, and Vicky, the owner of the boarding house, told us that it was so far and would take us more than an hour to get there. I didn’t think that was too bad until I had to ride on the motorcycle portion of the trike. Erik took the back of the motorcycle on the way there and I took it on the return trip. It was so bumpy; I almost fell off once and hit my head a few times. I have decided that the more you get hurt, the more adventurous is the experience. Is that counterintuitive? I think that you learn more about the world and your ability to cope when you hurt yourself, you know in a memorable way, not in a sadistic fashion or anything.
The first falls we went to was called Cawa-Cawa in the small village of Lumban Weste near one of the larger towns on the island, Cadiogan. Cawa means frying kettle, so these falls were named after this kitchen vessel because of the shape of the pools of water that collected from the actual falls. It was a great place to swim. Our driver didn’t really know where he was going. He kept asking directions to the falls, and I was a little nervous that we were not going to get there. Good thing there are not many “tourist” attractions to see. I didn’t want to get a guide to the falls, but Erik did and our driver basically insisted we get a guide. We met the barangay captain (kind of like the mayor but since it is such a small community, he was a part of the local peace-keeping force, I believe). He shook our hands, and he even put a shirt on as he was talking to us. I could tell that we had interrupted their peaceful morning. There was not much going on in that sleepy town, and I think that is pretty typical for the island villages. There is a lot of loitering because there is not much to do unless you are a farmer. I am not sure what the other people do for a living—small commercial activity, I think.
One man was our official guide, but another man from the barangay police also followed. He ended up being very helpful in assisting me over the rock wall that separated the cawas. We had to cross six rivers, which are only significant because I was wearing tennis shoes, so each time we crossed the river, I had to completely remove and replace my shoes and socks. By the time we reached the falls, my socks were so dirty and soggy. I was cursing the fact that I had not brought my hiking sandals instead. For some reason the fact that I was going to an island did not register in my choice of foot wear. Very few people if any wear regular shoes. In fact, the majority of people wear nothing by flip-flops. They even hike with ease in the flip-flops. It is quite incredible really when I consider the fact that I am incapable of hiking comfortably without good shoes. They are just so accustomed to it that their bodies are not harmed.
The water was so pure, clean, and cool. I jumped in with my “swimsuit” (my t-shirt and undershorts) and gleefully swam around the soothing water. There were boulders making the dividing wall between the cawas, but they were so slippery that I had trouble making it up them. Thankfully another tagalong jumped in and brought with him a reed, which doubled as a very strong rope. He was able to hold it while I pulled myself up. I was so pleased with myself for getting up the rocks. I honestly was unsure of whether I could make it, but with a little effort and powerful aspiration, I did it, and man! It was so worth it. The falls were very powerful but now as cascading as some I have seen in my lifetime. I think the unique part of these falls was the shape of the walls surrounding the pools: they literally resembled the frying kettles for which the falls is named.
Swimming around for a while, we had enough time to appreciate the pulchritude (I love this word because it means beauty but sounds like something describing a cadaver or something!) of such a remote place. Too bad I had to do the whole on-off-on-again dance with my socks and shoes on the way back. We gave each of our guides—three by the time we had finished at the falls—100 pesos, which is a little more than $2. The tagalong that really helped us get over the rocks was so appreciative of the money that he climbed a coconut tree and extracted this strong and sweet juice from the coconut flower called tuba. They ferment it and it becomes a strong alcohol. Apparently, even in its raw state, it has some alcohol in it, but I didn’t taste any. His family was so poor and many of them were drunk. They were all just sitting around with a hoard of children playing about. It was very difficult to see them in such a state. I am glad we were able to do a little something for them. It was humbling to be so richly compensated. (The coconuts and all their by-products comprise one of the main industries of this area, so giving us some of their coconut products was really a big deal.)
After resting a little in the village, we went on our way to Lumbingan Falls nearer to Magdiwang where we were staying that evening. These falls were must more accessible and a little more developed. There was a rope swing tied to some of the branches hanging over the deep pool of water. The falls cascaded more into the reservoir and what was really cool is that you could climb on the cliffs surrounding the falls and get pretty close to the actual falls. Our driver came with us and helped us with the rope swing. I had never swung from a cliff into a pool of water, so I was a little nervous. The first time I made a go of it, my foot got stuck into a loop of rope that was hanging from the knot onto which I was holding. I almost crashed into the rocks, but I was able to repel easily enough! I have no upper body strength, so the other two times I jumped out, I plopped into the water after only a few seconds whereas Erik was really able to control when he went into the water. Oh, well, it was still a lot of fun, and I was able to overcome my nervousness and enjoy the opportunity ☺
By the time we finished at the falls, both Erik and I were pretty tired, having started the day so early, so we said goodbye to our driver (even though we surprisingly saw him another three times before we left!) and cleaned up a bit before going to walk on the beach. The beach is not the greatest along the part of Sibuyan where we were staying, but it was still nice for walking. We spent almost a couple hours strolling along and watching the tide roll in, each walking at his/her own pace. It was a great way to end a lovely day. Actually, the day ended with a delicious dinner Erik bought for us. I think he was sick of the bread and peanuts, so when Vicky said she enjoys cooking for her guests, he jumped at the chance. I had fish with Filipino-style coleslaw with hard-boiled eggs then fried rice with carrots and cabbage and pieces of scrambled eggs. Even though I am not a huge fan of rice—I mean, I eat it and am thankful for it, but I do not think that I will ever personally stock rice in my cupboard—I love Filipino fried rice because there is a lot of garlic and vegetables. Yum! After dinner, I was happy to find that Vicky had a good collection of books, so I settled into the room and read almost an entire book before I fell asleep at midnight. I wanted to make sure I used every ounce of my vacation for something fun ☺ It was a superb experience with many memories that I will take from my relationship with Erik and from each encounter with the locals. The best type of vacations is the kind from which you learn something and where you are able to try something new and exciting. That is exactly what I endeavored to do and accomplished doing!
It was adventure defined and was a good time to build a relationship with Erik, who is the youngest of all the siblings. He really is a good kid, although he and I do not have the same senses of traveling. He is probably more adventurous than I am in terms of what he can do (e.g. we swung out on a rope swing, having jumped off a cliff, over the water about 10 feet below, and he just did it immediately, but I hesitated because I had never done anything like that before) but I have much more determination than he does (e.g. we went hiking in a deserted national park—story to follow—and he kept wanting to stop because his foot hurt and he was tired, but I was resolute in my desire to hike until it got dark, despite the fact that we had no trail to follow). So, he failed the test of being an ideal travel partner, but he was good for getting us to go in the right direction (I am still suffering from an ineffective inner compass) and it was nice to travel with a male. It’s sad to say, but people treated me different. Sure, I was still the one to communicate with everyone because that is how I am—again a part of that determination and vision for how a trip should progress—but I felt safer knowing there was someone else with me and not just another person, but a guy who tends to not be as vulnerable to other people as women. I was the one who got all the stares while he was largely left alone. So all in all, I must say, I liked traveling with Erik. He was certainly better than my sisters!! (Girls, if you are reading this, I know you won’t be offended because you know this is true. I do not think that you would even think of going to a wild island where every experience was a gamble.)
I like to travel with people who do not complain about uncertain situations, who smile at every turn even when they are tired or sunburned or their feet hurt, who are always up to a new experience, who will walk to save money, who will sleep in less than ideal places to save some cash, who will eat bread and peanuts for three days and rejoice and be thankful each time they eat them (this is what we consumed, and I could tell that Erik was less than thrilled about this fare and he actually stopped eating much, which concerned me a little since we were doing so much hiking and moving), who do not mind the heat or the cold, but deal with either in an appropriate manner, who do not mind getting lost if I am leading or who have a better sense of direction than me, who love people and will treat the locals like their family even when being a little mistrustful, which is necessary when you are traveling, and who have great ideas for activities or enjoy following when I am the one to come up with the ideas.
So, I am grateful that Erik had some of these, but most of all, it was a period to treasure having the companionship of a brother. I loved saying that he and I are brother and sister. There was some sort of bond there that was strengthened just by saying those words. It is true that by saying something, the reality changes. Just by saying that he and I are brother and sister, I felt immediately closer. Our parents’ relationship might be a little complicated, and I might not understand everything, but Erik and I have decided to make the best of what we have been given and to enjoy one another as we are both having great adventures here in the Philippines. I am blessed to have a “brother” like Erik. (Erik, if you are reading this, I hope you don’t get angry. No, I suppose you won’t get angry. You do not do that very often, but I hope this does not surprise you. That is why I said on the beach that I have enjoyed the trip despite the fact that you and I are different travelers—to which you chuckled. I think you know it too, but I think you also share my concluding sentiments. If not, we can talk when you get to Baguio. Love you!)
Now to the actual story: I might jump around a little bit, but those of you who have been following my blog, have no doubt come to expect that. I am hoping that you will read this entry if you have the after Christmas blues at work or you are doing laundry and waiting for the load to be done, or maybe you have some down time because you need a break from your Christmas “vacation;” wherever you are as you read this, I pray that you are blessed by the observations and witticisms. I am blessed to share them, so I know you will share in my blessings and smile and have fun with all the descriptions and crazy things I get myself into ☺
Romblon—Three Islands in the Visayas
The province of Romblon is technically composed of three islands called Tablas, the island on which Erik is volunteering, Romblon, and Sibuyan, where we spent the majority of our time. There are also small, insignificant islands that can be spotted off each of the big islands, but these are really not counted because few people inhabit them and there is not much more than coastline for any of these islands. The Romlon islands are located in a part of the Philippines called the Visayas. This would be considered a region like Northern Luzon, the big island on which Manila and Baguio are located, and has a lot of great islands and beaches. This is probably the primary area to go if you want to see beautiful beaches and experience the tropics of the Philippines. The Romblon Islands fortunately are not as touristy as many of the other areas in the Visayas. There are many distinct reasons for this. Here are a couple: there are very few if any notable resorts in the area; the tourist office is not very helpful; the coastline is quite rugged, and although you can get to some really nice beaches, you must hire a bangka—a small fishing boat— to bring you to the desired place; there are few knowledgeable guides that are accessible to people who do not know anyone on the islands. I am glad it is this way. Only the strong willed and determined tourists will appreciate these islands, leaving them relatively peaceful and unadulterated by the majority of tourists.
Travel Details
For me, this was the opportunity of a “lifetime.” (I put lifetime in quotes because there is a caveat: I know that I will have many of these opportunities and have had many such rival experiences in the past, so I wanted to use a familiar phrase but also to distinguish the fact that my time in Romblon was not quite as monumental as the phrase suggests.) I was the only foreigner on the ferry on the way down to meet Erik, and I prefer it this way. I wrote in my journal that when you are a foreigner and there are other tourists in the vicinity, you are immediately associated with those people, regardless of who they are and what they are doing. All the locals see is a population of similar-looking people who must also be similar in their thoughts and regards. I do not enjoy being judged based on a prevailing group when my intent and actions may not necessarily match up with those of the other people. So, to prevent preconceived notions and from being linked with people I do not know, I prefer to be the only foreigner. The ferry carried both trucks and large vehicles along with people. There were some benches that lined the sides of the boat and a few tables near the canteen, but the majority of the seating was in the form of a bunk bed. Each passenger got a green plastic leather-covered bunk that was about six feet in length and spaced about two feet apart—enough for walking and moving about, except for the fact that Filipinos do not travel light, and the space between the beds was filled with sacks and boxes of the travelers.
I used by backpack and a sarong as a pillow, which worked out well enough. I slept about 1/3 of the time that I was on the ferry—about 11 hours in total. I sailed on the Diana on the way there from Batangas to Odiongan and the Rosario from Romblon Town to Batangas. All in all, the travel was a bit tedious. I started at 11:40 pm on Tuesday night from Baguio City, taking a bus to Manila. From Manila, I took a bus at 5:30 am on Wednesday morning, arriving at the Batangas Pier around 7:30 am. I staked out a tree in the shade and slept and read while lounging against my backpack and avoiding the stares of the passersby. I boarded the ferry at 3 pm after approximately 8 hours of waiting. The ferry left at 5:15 pm and arrived in Odiongan, Tablas Island, at 4:15 am on Thursday. From the ferry, I took a jeepney that was packed to the brim with people. Not only was every seat taken on the bench, on which I sat, but also there was a 2 x 6 placed in the center on which another seven passengers sat. I was on that for about 2 and half hours, arriving in Carmen close to 7 am. Erik met me there with a tricycle driver, and we made the 20-minute trike ride to Sugod (pronounced So—good), which was the jumping off point for Thursday’s adventure.
On the way back to Manila, travel was a little more straightforward. In Magdiwang on Sibuyan Island, we walked three kilometers from our boarding house to the pier, where I stood in a makeshift line of people cramming to get their tickets. Filipinos are known to be incapable of lining up properly, and the line is not generally encouraged in the provinces. We boarded one ferry at 10:30 am, practically jumping onto the moving ferry by following the throng of Filipinos who were so anxious to board the ferry that they literally jumped onto the ramp that was only half attached to the pier. We pushed our way up the stairs with the best of them, which was not difficult since we are a head taller than the average Filipino. I don’t think we knocked over any lolas or lolos¬—the name used for grandparents or as a sign of respect to elderly people. We landed in Romblon Town, which is the main city of the middle island and the provincial capital, and Erik remained on his ship while I transferred to another ferry. We left at 1:45 pm on Saturday, and we arrived in Odiongan at 5:30 pm, leaving that port at 6:30 pm. Technically, I was not supposed to have a bed, but there was one extra bed that was available. What a blessing from God! Finally, at 5:30 am after having stood in the bowls of the ship for more than 45 minutes with the other eager Filipinos, we landed in Batangas where I ran for the bus to take me to Manila. Sound complicated? It was less complicated than it seems, but it was much more aggressive than I ever thought possible. Filipinos may be infamous for their inability to gauge time correctly, but they sure are good at traveling, not brooking any sort of barrier that may prevent them from arriving at their destination.
Tablas Island
Erik and I spent all of Thursday on this island. I arrived in Odiongan, which is one of three ports on the island. Tablas is the biggest of the three islands and it also supports a small airport. (Yes, I could have flown but that would have been much more expensive and not as convenient since their exists a much stricter schedule for the planes that fly from Manila to Tugdan, the small airport on the eastern side of the island. I traveled like the locals!) The coastline is gorgeous and rugged with large rocks that create an impregnable barrier in many places. There are less than 75,000 people who live on the whole island, so you can see that it is very rural and simple. Most of the people are simple farmers, growing rice and coconuts, and/or are fishermen. Did you know that the smallest fish in the world is found in the Philippines? I didn’t but apparently it is, and it tastes good. (I like the fish here. It is so fresh and fishy. I will miss the fish when I leave.)
Everyone told me to take a rest once I got to Sugod, but I refused because I had not been doing anything except resting, so I was rearing to go. The family that feeds Erik was really kind to me. They gave me one of their rooms in which to place all my belongings and to sleep. They even fed me breakfast and dinner and a light breakfast early the next morning before we grabbed the ferry to go to Sibuyan. That was so lovely and unexpected to be treated like family, like the rest of the volunteers. I should not have been surprised; it was simply a normal courtesy, I’m sure. I told Erik that I wanted to go see this place called the Enchanted Hidden Lagoon, which I had seen in my travel guide. We asked “Mom Tess,” Erik’s host, and she knew exactly what we were talking about, even giving us advice on how to get there. She found someone who was going back home, which was incidentally in the same direction we needed to go. He led us through the mountain, back to his home, which was located in a community down by a small bay where there were many bangkas sitting on the beach.
The man who led us on a great hike up and down the mountain also invited us into his home for lunch that his mother prepared. It was a really generous offer, so we used the food that we planned for lunch as an afternoon snack or merienda, as they call it, for everyone who tagged along with us. Erik and I shared one bag, which he carried at first and on the downward climb, but which I took for the majority of the climb upward. (I do not have the greatest balance when it comes to hiking down slippery slopes. Even without the bag, I still managed to fall a couple of times, and I completely ripped my pants open. Thankfully, I was wearing underwear because it literally ripped one whole side of my pants open. Darn rock! I got them fixed later that night for 50 cents by the local seamstress. I really had to brace myself the next day when I carried my 40-pound bag for about five hours hiking. (I need to get better at this. One, I need to learn to carry more weight because I would like to do more serious hiking in the future with all the camping equipment and food, etc. Two, I need to learn how to walk more quickly when going down. I am quite fast going up because I enjoy the challenge and running has prepared me to do well, but my body almost freezes when I go down. I think I am subconsciously afraid of falling.)
Once we got to the little bay, we walked around the edge of the water and to a man’s house, which had been built on top of these great big rocks. It was so cool in a Swiss Family Robinson kind of way. In fact all the houses we saw that day reminded me of the Swiss Family Robinson, so secluded and exuding adventure and survival. After lunch, we got someone to take us out on his bangka to lead us to the lagoon. It took us a while to get to the lagoon, and Erik and I were laughing about the fact that every time we moved closer to the shore, we thought we had reached the lagoon. Finally we did reach the destination. I must say that the lagoon was cool, but it was itself not enchanted; however, the rocks around the lagoon and its general setting were pretty cool. The rocks were razor sharp; I almost cut myself on them because they were so sharp.
Stupidly, Erik and I wanted to swim from the lagoon to the next small island, but our guides told us it was not safe. Duh! I could have made it had it been fresh water, but the salt water was really difficult to manage or so I discovered when I went swimming near that island after our boat driver took us there. There were lots of little jellyfish swimming in the shallow parts, so Erik refused to get in, but I just found a spot where I couldn’t see any jellyfish, and I jumped in, swimming out pretty far. I just prayed that I wouldn’t get hurt and believed I would be fine. It is amazing how fearless you can be when you just tell yourself everything is going to be all right. Besides ingesting quite a bit of salt water, I had a great swim. It was a perfect way to stretch out my sore muscles from the climb. Our boat driver and our guide went away for a little while to go buy fish directly from a boat that was in the process of fishing. I had never seen anything like that before! Talk about getting your food right from the source ☺
It took us about two hours to get from the little island back to Sugod, which was an amazing ride amidst the waves and under the blazing sun. I am not much for sun, preferring to hide underneath the shade of a tree or an umbrella, but it felt good to be fried by such pure sunlight. I was being fried like a frittata in a cast iron pan, and I couldn’t do anything about it or hide from the sun’s rays, so I happily resigned myself to my fate, only to hurt later that night. I have decided that when you face an unavoidable situation—I tried putting on sunscreen, but even that did not completely protect me—there is no sense destroying the moment with complaints. I guess that is where the expression “Grin and bear it” comes from. I like that. Sometimes you just have to grin and be happy despite the load and the challenges. You can always deal with your problems at the right time, but until that time comes, it is better to leave them alone and concentrate instead on the blessings on whatever you might be undertaking.
Sibuyan Island
After getting back from our long bangka ride, I took a long shower in the outside shower at the volunteer’s “dorm.” (It is really just a house on the outside of the town and really nice actually with a spacious common room and a kitchen and a line for drying clothes.) I repacked my bag and went to sleep early, so I would have strength for another full day. I woke up at 4:15 am and got myself ready. Mom Tess was already up and she gave us some breakfast to start us off right. Our hired tricycle driver was eager and ready before Erik was even up. We took the ferry from San Augustin, a 30-minute trike ride from Sugod and the main port on that side of the island. A few people hitched rides on our trike, which we were happy to give. (It is customary there to give people who are going in the same direction as you a ride since transportation can often be tricky in the provinces.) The ferry ride was long, lasting about four hours. As soon as we disembarked from the ferry, another tricycle driver approached Erik and offered his services to us. He charged quite a high fee to take us where we wanted to go—Mt. Guiting Guiting National Park—but he decreased the price a little and was helpful, so we went along with him and reached the park after a pretty bumpy ride on the “national road,” which is nothing more than dirt and rocks in most places and some concrete in places few and far between. I got a kick out of the fact that this was the best road on the island.
Our trike driver dropped us off about one kilometer from the Visitor’s Center. I started the walk off right with a big fall on my butt. Bam! It was one of three big falls I had that day. Thankfully, it was only soft clay and not rocks or concrete onto which I was falling. When we reached the park, we saw that everything was seemingly deserted. It was the most bizarre thing I have seen in a long time. This is a national park, with a lot of protected areas; yet, there was no one there. The buildings were locked and everything was overgrown with weeds. Erik noticed some signs of life, such as dishes and chairs that both looked well used. While we were exploring and deciding what we should do, another couple showed up. (Our original plan was to climb to the peak of Mt. Mayo, which can be done in a 24-hour period. We wanted to sleep on the mountain for the night, and then continue the next day. But since we were unable to find a guide or anyone to lead us, this dream was moot. There was no way you could find the path up the mountain without a guide. Sibuyan is known for its dense forests, the densest in the Philippines.)
I said that we should just go since we could only go there and back within a five-hour period. I had a compass and a watch and figured that’s all you really need to prevent getting lost. The couple that showed up delayed us a little because they suggested that we all hike together. I did not like this idea, but I did not want to be mean and refuse them, so I agreed, but in my heart I was telling them to reconsider. They took too long deliberating the no-guide reality, and I just took the initiative and said that we planned to continue without a guide and did not want to lose any more time. So we effectively got rid of the whiney couple and started off on our own adventure. I think Erik would have been content to remain at the camp, but I dragged him along. I told him that we started this together and we would end it together.
We had our lunch of bread and peanuts in a clearing that had a perfect view of the mountains.
This was the only time we actually saw the mountains; the remainder of the time, we could only see the dense forest enclosed about us. We hiked for about 2 and half hours both ways. The going was steep and tricky at some parts. There was a visible trail for most of it, and Erik was smart to mark two places that needed some “breadcrumbs,” so we could find them again on our way back. I would not have thought of this, and had Erik not been there, I probably would have wandered around much longer! I was the one with the compass, so I confirmed we were going in the “right” direction. (At lunch, I determined that the mountains were off to the south and southeast, so I was constantly confirming that we were going in those directions.) On the way back, I was reminded of the Alfred Hitchcock movie North by Northwest because those were the directions to which we needed to adhere in order to arrive safely back. We did lose our way a little and tried to cut through the wild of the forest. I finally felt like I was an Amazon pioneer—minus the machete unfortunately—in search of lost civilization or something. I liked it. I liked the feeling of getting so soaking wet with my own sweat and feeling every fiber of my being stretched by the exertion of another hill and another challenge. I loved the rapid inhale and exhale, seeking enough air to fill the increasing need my body had for precious oxygen. It was all so very gratifying.
Then, on the descent, all I was looking forward to was the clear brook we had passed at the onset of our hike. That is where I planned to take a bath to refresh my salty and taut body. Erik and I made a bet of how long it would take us to get back to the camp, and I suggested that the one who guessed closest gets to take a bath first. I won even though I started going the wrong way, to which Erik gently corrected me. I am so predictable. I got so excited about the conquest that I stopped paying attention to my surroundings ☺ Good thing Erik was not far behind and said, “Uh, Kelsey, you took the wrong path!” I laughed and still won!
After we had both cleaned up and had hung our clothes on a laundry line that was literally crawling with big ants, we heard a noise, and sure enough, there was the couple we had met earlier that afternoon and a guide! We were all so surprised, and it was funny to hear what actually happened. Since it was not the high season for hiking, there was only one guide and a helper. The guide had been on our same ferry, and the helper had been at the park, but I guess he was sleeping when we all arrived and did not hear anything! The couple had remained at the camp until the guide came back around 3 pm. They went on a short hike and returned about 6 pm. I was so glad that we had gone on without them. Our day was not ruined by any means. Sure, it was very different than what I had expected, but it was still quite memorable and adventurous, which are the only two things I seek on my travels. The guide opened up the Visitor’s Center for us, so we could sleep indoors. I had purchased a mosquito net expressly for sleeping outside, so I was determined to use it! Instead of sleeping inside on one of the couches, I chose to set up my sleeping bag on the bamboo porch outside with my net covering me. This was so silly because there were not even any bugs, but I really just wanted to use the net! After about four hours, I deemed my desire fatuous and returned inside to sleep on one of the couches for the remaining five hours.
We left the park by 6 am and started walking back to town, which was about a 6-kilometer venture. We hoped to catch a tricycle on its way into town, which happened about 1/3 of the way through the walk. We hopped into a trike that only had another two passengers. It is pretty impressive how many people they can fit onto those things. Erik said that he experienced 15 people on one little three-wheeled vehicle. Amazing! On our way to Vicky’s Place, where we stayed on Saturday night, we met our driver from the day before. He swung his trike around and followed us to the house, and he convinced us to hire him for the day. We paid about $11 for his services then paid for the gas, which cost about $5. All in all, this whole trip cost me about $100, which is pretty amazing considering all the traveling I did. The Philippines is a really inexpensive place in which to travel: the food costs minimally, the transportation is much lower compared to more developed areas, and you can get good lodging for less than $10 depending on where you are. This is a great reality for adventurers like Erik and me.
On our last day, we really made the most of the daylight by visiting two waterfalls, about 35 kilometers apart from one another, which is huge on a small island like Sibuyan. Both Eric, the driver, and Vicky, the owner of the boarding house, told us that it was so far and would take us more than an hour to get there. I didn’t think that was too bad until I had to ride on the motorcycle portion of the trike. Erik took the back of the motorcycle on the way there and I took it on the return trip. It was so bumpy; I almost fell off once and hit my head a few times. I have decided that the more you get hurt, the more adventurous is the experience. Is that counterintuitive? I think that you learn more about the world and your ability to cope when you hurt yourself, you know in a memorable way, not in a sadistic fashion or anything.
The first falls we went to was called Cawa-Cawa in the small village of Lumban Weste near one of the larger towns on the island, Cadiogan. Cawa means frying kettle, so these falls were named after this kitchen vessel because of the shape of the pools of water that collected from the actual falls. It was a great place to swim. Our driver didn’t really know where he was going. He kept asking directions to the falls, and I was a little nervous that we were not going to get there. Good thing there are not many “tourist” attractions to see. I didn’t want to get a guide to the falls, but Erik did and our driver basically insisted we get a guide. We met the barangay captain (kind of like the mayor but since it is such a small community, he was a part of the local peace-keeping force, I believe). He shook our hands, and he even put a shirt on as he was talking to us. I could tell that we had interrupted their peaceful morning. There was not much going on in that sleepy town, and I think that is pretty typical for the island villages. There is a lot of loitering because there is not much to do unless you are a farmer. I am not sure what the other people do for a living—small commercial activity, I think.
One man was our official guide, but another man from the barangay police also followed. He ended up being very helpful in assisting me over the rock wall that separated the cawas. We had to cross six rivers, which are only significant because I was wearing tennis shoes, so each time we crossed the river, I had to completely remove and replace my shoes and socks. By the time we reached the falls, my socks were so dirty and soggy. I was cursing the fact that I had not brought my hiking sandals instead. For some reason the fact that I was going to an island did not register in my choice of foot wear. Very few people if any wear regular shoes. In fact, the majority of people wear nothing by flip-flops. They even hike with ease in the flip-flops. It is quite incredible really when I consider the fact that I am incapable of hiking comfortably without good shoes. They are just so accustomed to it that their bodies are not harmed.
The water was so pure, clean, and cool. I jumped in with my “swimsuit” (my t-shirt and undershorts) and gleefully swam around the soothing water. There were boulders making the dividing wall between the cawas, but they were so slippery that I had trouble making it up them. Thankfully another tagalong jumped in and brought with him a reed, which doubled as a very strong rope. He was able to hold it while I pulled myself up. I was so pleased with myself for getting up the rocks. I honestly was unsure of whether I could make it, but with a little effort and powerful aspiration, I did it, and man! It was so worth it. The falls were very powerful but now as cascading as some I have seen in my lifetime. I think the unique part of these falls was the shape of the walls surrounding the pools: they literally resembled the frying kettles for which the falls is named.
Swimming around for a while, we had enough time to appreciate the pulchritude (I love this word because it means beauty but sounds like something describing a cadaver or something!) of such a remote place. Too bad I had to do the whole on-off-on-again dance with my socks and shoes on the way back. We gave each of our guides—three by the time we had finished at the falls—100 pesos, which is a little more than $2. The tagalong that really helped us get over the rocks was so appreciative of the money that he climbed a coconut tree and extracted this strong and sweet juice from the coconut flower called tuba. They ferment it and it becomes a strong alcohol. Apparently, even in its raw state, it has some alcohol in it, but I didn’t taste any. His family was so poor and many of them were drunk. They were all just sitting around with a hoard of children playing about. It was very difficult to see them in such a state. I am glad we were able to do a little something for them. It was humbling to be so richly compensated. (The coconuts and all their by-products comprise one of the main industries of this area, so giving us some of their coconut products was really a big deal.)
After resting a little in the village, we went on our way to Lumbingan Falls nearer to Magdiwang where we were staying that evening. These falls were must more accessible and a little more developed. There was a rope swing tied to some of the branches hanging over the deep pool of water. The falls cascaded more into the reservoir and what was really cool is that you could climb on the cliffs surrounding the falls and get pretty close to the actual falls. Our driver came with us and helped us with the rope swing. I had never swung from a cliff into a pool of water, so I was a little nervous. The first time I made a go of it, my foot got stuck into a loop of rope that was hanging from the knot onto which I was holding. I almost crashed into the rocks, but I was able to repel easily enough! I have no upper body strength, so the other two times I jumped out, I plopped into the water after only a few seconds whereas Erik was really able to control when he went into the water. Oh, well, it was still a lot of fun, and I was able to overcome my nervousness and enjoy the opportunity ☺
By the time we finished at the falls, both Erik and I were pretty tired, having started the day so early, so we said goodbye to our driver (even though we surprisingly saw him another three times before we left!) and cleaned up a bit before going to walk on the beach. The beach is not the greatest along the part of Sibuyan where we were staying, but it was still nice for walking. We spent almost a couple hours strolling along and watching the tide roll in, each walking at his/her own pace. It was a great way to end a lovely day. Actually, the day ended with a delicious dinner Erik bought for us. I think he was sick of the bread and peanuts, so when Vicky said she enjoys cooking for her guests, he jumped at the chance. I had fish with Filipino-style coleslaw with hard-boiled eggs then fried rice with carrots and cabbage and pieces of scrambled eggs. Even though I am not a huge fan of rice—I mean, I eat it and am thankful for it, but I do not think that I will ever personally stock rice in my cupboard—I love Filipino fried rice because there is a lot of garlic and vegetables. Yum! After dinner, I was happy to find that Vicky had a good collection of books, so I settled into the room and read almost an entire book before I fell asleep at midnight. I wanted to make sure I used every ounce of my vacation for something fun ☺ It was a superb experience with many memories that I will take from my relationship with Erik and from each encounter with the locals. The best type of vacations is the kind from which you learn something and where you are able to try something new and exciting. That is exactly what I endeavored to do and accomplished doing!
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