The Movie - Part 1

Kirsten spent ages cutting together this video of the first six months of our travels. Enjoy! Note: If this doesn't work, use the lower quality version embedded below.

Final Thoughts

The Philippines seems to get missed off many people's South East Asia itinerary, possibly because it's considered sleazy and somewhat dangerous. On the sleazy front, the stereotype is largely true, and in Manila especially, you can't swing a cat without hitting a sweaty, overweight, middle-aged white bloke, with his young Filipino girlfriend on his arm. Mindanao in the south east of the archipelago has some political violence, and tourists are warned off the region. However, the rest of the country is perfectly safe.

The Makati area of Manila is where the higher end hotels are, along with the humongous Green Belt mall, with its two cinemas, and masses of shops, bars and restaurants - a sanitised, air-conditioned, city-within-a-city. It's where the expats and the monied locals hang out. Having been to other parts of Manila, you see why.

Pretty much everyone we came across spoke fairly good English, and the TV channels are either in English or a mix of English and Tagalog (Filipino), often in the same sentence. Because of this, travel is easy, if not always comfortable – the roads in the areas we visited (Cordillera and Palawan) seem to be in a permanent state of “under construction”. Airfares are cheap, but almost all flights are in and out of Manila (so you may need two flights to get from A to B), and check baggage has a pitiful allowance of 10kg, meaning we had to hand over an extra 15 quid for each flight. Getting a boat is notoriously unreliable, partly because of their insistence on using outriggers, which sink in a light breeze.

All this means you need to not try and fit too much in, and keep a loose schedule. The Ifugao Rice Terraces were well worth the torturous bus journey; and the wreck diving in Coron is amongst the best in the world. We missed out Boracay, which is a pity, but I'll certainly want to dive Coron again, so we can pop in then (plus, it's not far to Palau...)

Coron

After supposed engine failure on one boat, and the next day's being stuck in Coron due to a typhoon warning, we finally made it out of El Nido on an overnight ferry/cargo ship. This was a relativity small wooden cargo ship, with the upper deck given over to passengers, and the lower deck carrying mainly live fish. Basically you grabbed a marine bed from the pile in the centre, and made yourself comfortable – by the time we set sail at midnight, you could barely get some dental floss between the beds. I had to close the wooden shutters at 3am, because the rain was driving in, and you had to be careful when going to toilet not to fall into the cargo hold. That said, I had a pretty good night's sleep; better than a lot of the trains, and certainly better than the overnight bus to Banaue.















We arrived at Sea Divers (our lodgings and dive operator), minutes too late to wreck dive that day, so we relaxed and had some breakfast. The bangka (outrigger) we were meant to get, the Jessabelle, was parked at the end of Sea Divers pier in Coron, and going nowhere. Frankly, after looking at it (it's a big canoe with outriggers), I wouldn't want to spend 7 minutes on it in open sea, let alone 7 hours to cross from El Nido to Coron. A similar boat sunk on Friday killing 11 people (www.guardian.co.uk/world/feedarticle/8005382) .















After heavy losses in Manila Bay, the Japanese pulled the remaining imperial fleet back to Coron Bay, where it was duly sunk on 24th September 1944 by US task force 38. Their loss was the dive community's gain, with half a dozen wrecks easily accessible in less than 40m of water.

Keen to get right into the wrecks, but not die, we enrolled on specialist wreck diving and Nitrox (enriched air) courses. Dive one was the Kogyo Maru, a cargo ship lying on its starboard side at 36m. We played around in the large cargo bays, but didn't do a full penetration. The second dive was the Morazan Maru (AKA Olympia Maru), which also lies on its starboard. Here we swam into the cavernous boiler room, before moving through the ship to the bow, squeezing through sideways doors and up vertical corridors – it's easy to see how you could get fatally lost inside.

We had 3 more dives on the second day: the Irako, the Akitsushima and the Okikawa Maru (AKA Taiei Maru), all of which involved swimming head first through tight holes into dark rooms, and marking our way along inside. The Taiei has its bow broken and pointing up at 45 degrees, so there's a cathedral like quality as you enter this section with the shafted of light coming through.


We finished by swimming up the propeller shaft, from the rudder to the engine room and out. After we'd all surfaced, we were a diver down – his buddy swore he'd seen him on the mooring line. After 10 minutes of staring at the horizon, with his mate looking slightly worried, he was spotted some 200m from the boat, having lost the mooring lie and been taken by the current. His mate opened a beer, relived at not having to explain that one to his family.















Sorry, no wreck photos as I didn't bring the marine housing and they don't rent any cameras. It's a shame we only had 2 days rather than the 4 we'd planned, but I'm now addicted to wreck diving, so we may have to go somewhere else to cane more money.

Palawan

After a lazy morning in Manila, we headed back to the airport to catch our flight to Peurto Princesa, the largest town in Palawan, a long thin island, reaching south west almost as far as Borneo. We flew with Cebu, who seem to be the Philippines answer to Ryanair – extra charge for luggage, $5 for a pack of crisps on board and obligatory delayed departure with zero information. They did go the extra mile though by trying to get us to play party games in the middle of the flight - the first to hold up a bus ticket gets a prize etc, although this was really thinly disguised advertising for their tacky range of merchandise.


We landed in the pouring rain (rather a theme of Palawan), unfortunately not being able to see any of the tropical paradise island below. We were very pleased to be handed Cebu branded golf umbrella to protect us for the walk across the runway from the plane to shed which was acting as the arrival hall. Fortunately the hotel that we had booked (Puerto Pension) were waiting for us with a mini van, as I had no idea how we were going to pile our rucksacks on a tricycle without it toppling over and everything getting drenched. (Tricycles are the Philippines answer to the tuk-tuk or rickshaw – basically a motor bike with a side car).
















The next day we were up at the crack of dawn to visit one of Palawan's biggest attractions – the world's second longest navigable subterranean river. It is about a 2 hour drive from Peurto Princesa, about half of this on unsurfaced roads, providing what our guide tried to convince us was a free massage. Once at the park entrance you transfer to a traditional wooden outrigger which takes you to the entrance of the cave. As this is where many people have lunch it is also a great place to spot some local wildlife – monkeys and some pretty impressive monitor lizards. Unfortunately this is a popular tourist attraction so there then follows quite a long wait before you get into a large canoe to be paddled into the cave. This is a pretty impressive experience, the only thing spoiling the atmosphere slightly are the other tourist boats flashing their torch lights around. The river is over 5 miles long, and navigable for 3 mile, but as it gets a bit tight (for space as well as time) the tourist boats only go to miles or so, for a trip of 45 minutes. Along the way the guide points out some truly bizarre rock formations such as the giant mushroom, the coconut, the three kings and of course the face of Jesus. The highlight however was the the incredible Sharon Stone's derriere.














We spent the evening in Peurto Princesa, which didn't appear to have much appeal for tourists and a rather limited selection of resorts, although our hotel was very pleasant decorated in traditional style with lots of natural materials.

The next day was another early start to catch the bus to El Nido, in the north of Palawan. We successfully managed to pile all our bags and ourselves on a tricycle of the 15 minute ride to the bus stop. We were told that trip to El Nido takes between 7 to 10 hours, depending on whether the bus blows a tire or not, so when we saw the rusty wreck that was our bus we were quietly horrified. I'm not sure if it made me feel better or worse when we saw 4 spare tires been loaded on. After packing bags, people and chicken in (and on top of) the bus, the driver, fat belly hanging out over his trousers and fag in mouth, headed off at break-neck speed. As we careered down the dusty, unsurfaced, potholed and windy road we held onto the bar on the back of the seat in front and tried to pretend this was an amusement park ride.















On the plus side the air-conditioning (i.e. no windows) was pretty effective especially when accompanied by a dousing of muddy water as we ploughed through the puddles. In the Philippines (as with much of South East Asia) there is an excellent choice of seating options on a bus: inside on a seat, on the roof, or clinging onto the side. Our bus wasn't full enough for the later, but no problem if you can't decide between the roof or inside – whilst hurtling down the winding roads just climb out of the open door and up the side of the bus onto the roof.















Luckily, by some miracle our tires survived the potholes and we arrived seven-and-a-half hours later in El Nido. This is a small town set on a very pretty beach and backed by spectacular limestone cliffs. We easily found a basic but pleasant room on the beach front to stay in and headed out to find Sea Dogs, a dive operator that we had read good things about on the web. To my joy this very friendly outfit also has a lovely dog called Danzin.

We spent the next 5 days split between diving and doing nothing much at all. The diving was pleasant, with loverly corral and many varieties of small fish, although I think we have been spoilt a little by Palau so struggled to get that excited. Probably the best dives were Tunnel Helicopter and South Miniloc. The first starts with a 50m long tunnel which you swim through using torches. This has a chamber about half way along which has a small opening at the top letting through light which is very pretty. The second has a large area of cabbage corral and is teaming with small fish. We also saw a large shoal of grouper – when you swim into them they circle around you which is spectacular. Other good sea life spots included a lobster, a couple of blue spotted sting ray and a black and white stripped sea snake about a meter long which I swear tried to attack me!















The dive trips also provided the opportunity to see some of the spectacular islands around El Nido, which soar out of the water with dramatic limestone cliffs and some postcard perfect white sand beaches.

El Nido itself is a pretty small and basic town. It is actually the first place we have been on our trip that doesn't have 24 hour power, although according to the locals this is largely due to officials pocketing money from flogging some of the diesel than for purely practical reasons. Power runs from 1pm to 4pm then again from around 6:30pm to 6am. You can guarantee the switch off times but the switch on is often delayed. Unfortunately when the power is off and there are no fans it is unbearably hot and much of life has to just grind to a halt.














The plan was for us to get the boat to Coron, a little further north and famed for its wreak diving, on Thursday, but apparently the engine is broken so we have to wait until Friday. Oh well, I guess there are worse places to get stuck...

Cordillera Region

The overnight bus from Manila to Banaue takes 9 hours and is billed as air-conditioned. As soon as the bus started, an Arctic wind was pumped from vents above every seat – it soon became apparent who had done the journey before, as thick blankets and warm coats were produced. The rest of us shivered in our seats, barely sleeping a wink due to the impending frost bite. Apparently the driver refused to turn the system off. I assume that since they billed it as air-con they were going to bloody well have it.














We ate breakfast at the hotel, looking out over the rain socked rice terraces and contemplated what to do. The best rice terraces are at Batad, a mere 10 miles by 'road' followed by a short hike. We, together with another guy who'd come off our bus, hired a Jeepney (long wheel-base jeep) and a guide, and headed off. A spine crippling hour later on the worst road on Earth, we arrived at the 'saddle' above Batad. A further half hour walk down hill got us to a pizza restaurant overlooking Batad village and the rice terraces that it sites in. We sat and ate pizza as the heavens opened up.



A further hour or so, following paths along the terraces, got us down though the village and up to the ridge the other side, which gave the best view of the semi-circular terraces. We then walked along the top of the terraces, and to prove their amphitheatre like quality, someone in the village kicked off the Eagles greatest hits, which was audible right the way across.

















We had arranged transport to Sagada with a guy who was acting as a guide for a trio of Filipino girls (basically he was making some extra money by throwing us in the back of the minibus). The pickup time was meant to be 9am, but since nothing quite runs to time in this part of the world, they turned up at 11:30. After stopping for photos and lunch, we arrived in Sagada at 4 – not bad for a two hour journey.
Sagada is a fairly relaxed traveller hangout (although western backpackers were thin on the ground when we were there), so we booking in for two nights – by 7:30 we were asleep.














The next day we hired a guide to explore the caves. First on the list were some hanging coffins – literally coffins hung on the side of a cliff - we saw hanging coffins in China too, and they weren't that interesting there either. The first cave is the Lumiang Burial Cave; there, 100 or so coffins are piled up near the entrance, with more inside (the village now has a cemetery, so they've largely stopped piling coffins in caves and dangling them off cliffs).















Next was Sumaging Cave. Armed with a gas lantern, we descended into the large, bat filled first cavern. This was somewhat treacherous going, as the rocks where wet and muddy, and the place was full of bat excrement. After 10 minutes the scene completely changed – here an underground river had carved out a meandering path through the sandstone seam. We took off our shoes and found you actually get very good grip with bare feet on sandstone, even with the water flowing over your feet. The rock formations look like river eroded mud – except they've taken eons to form. As we descended further, the formations become more elaborate and we were pointed out structures like “pregnant woman” and “the king”. Occasionally the route required some climbing, and at one point a rope decent. All the water leads to a deep pool – I jumped in first, and not surprisingly was hit with pretty blood cold water. It's impossible to get out where I jumped in as the sandstone walls are too steep, but it's easy to climb out next to the waterfall. Kirsten went in next, fully clothed (I'd brought bathers), then I had another go just for luck.















To avoid a horrific overnighter back to Manila, we took a bus to Baguio along the Halsema highway. This is a winding mountainous road, offering some spectacular views, but despite the drivers insistence on permanently being on the wrong side of the road, and only overtaking on blind bends, it wasn't nearly as nerve racking as it is made out to be.















The principle reason for stopping in Baguio was to avoid 13 hours on a bus, so we got no further than the travel agent (to book the flight to Puerto Princesa) and Dunkin Donuts, although I believe there's some nice countryside around. We are now we're back in Manila, and in a much better area (Makati).

Manila

Manila is a pretty unlovable place – a sprawling, noisy, smelly Asian metropolis, marred by extreme poverty and vice. Our hotel, in the Malate district, was conveniently placed across the road from a slum, and had about 100 people sleeping rough on the pavement outside. Despite this, it didn't feel unsafe, and was only a short walk from some okay bars and restaurants.















The plan for day one was to sort out the bus to Banaue, then do some light sightseeing. We made it as far as the air-conditioned mall. My efforts to find new cultural experiences after four mouths of travel came to nought, as I bought a tee-shirt from Topman, and a pair of trousers from Gap.

Having failed to find any of the LP recommended clubs (mainly because LP can never be arsed to update their books), we stumbled into Bar Rocks, and were greeted with a Filipino 4-piece blasting out cover versions – probably the best entertainment in town, if you're not trying to find an 18 year old 'girlfriend'.















Manila does lack any real tourist sights. The nearest it has is the old Spanish walled city, Intramuros, although this was largely destroyed by US bombing during the retaking of the Philippines. What's there, other than the walls, is the slightly dull Fort Santiago, a post-war reconstruction of Manila Cathedral, San Agustin Church (the oldest in the Philippines and survivor of the bombing) and a museum depicting a Spanish colonial mansion (commissioned by Imelda Marcos). Being a tourist area, showing any sign of wanting a cab results in kids running headlong into the road to pull one over. They are then impossible to shake without actually leaping into a taxi.

By the time our overnight bus to Banaue left at 10pm, I was glad to be getting out. Although we do have to come through twice more.