Camiguin to Manila 02/22 – 02/23

Balut looks so normal from the outside.

 I've been searching for the elusive “balut” for about a week now. I was told that it's sold on the street in the evening and that it is absolutely delicious. However, a fellow traveler also told me that I should be prepared to throw up. Well, I finally found it last night at a night market in Manila (that's right, we are back in Manila). It looks like a regular boiled egg, but what you find inside is well past the yolk stage. I couldn't figure out how to eat it at first and some friendly vendor lady had to show me the way while a small audience gathered to see what my reaction would be. Judging from their laughter I think they got the show that they wanted. Balut may be a delicacy to the Filipinos but I just could not get past the mental block that I was eating a partially formed fetus. It even had some hair on it. I took a bite, but was unable to put the whole thing in my mouth. We also tried some hard boiled eggs covered in an orange coating and deep fried then seasoned with vinegar. This dish was delicious. But then we made the mistake of getting what we thought was fried chicken on a stick which really turned out to be intestines (I think).

Manila night market along Roxas Blvd.  At one point all
the vendors started running away at once.  I guess the
police showed up and they aren't officially allowed to sell their goods.

So after leaving Camiguin in clouds and drizzle we made our way to Surigao. It all went so smoothly. From Mambajao we took a minivan to the pier and just made it onto the ferry, from the ferry we just made it onto a bus to Butuan and then right onto another bus to Surigao. We were headed here because our final destination was to be Siargao island, the surfer island of the Philippines where I was to show off my moves amongst the countries best surfers. The buses we took were devoid of any tourists. We were indeed traveling just like the locals. The highlight was when one man got on with a chicken in a bag. He had a live chicken in a plastic grocery bag. The head was sticking out and there were two holes for the legs to stick out as well. It was a very useful contraption because you can easily transport your chicken and then when you let it loose the bag can function as a raincoat.

Worries began to invade our minds because throughout the entire ride it was pouring rain. We even had to drive through flooded streets. So, when we got to Surigao in the evening we contemplated if we should go on to the island at all. We first searched for hotel accommodation and found that the two most decent looking hotels were full. How could that be in this little rinky dink town? Well, apparently that evening was prom and the town square as well as all the restaurants were packed with teenagers dressed in formal wear. It was a strange sight and I am sad that I didn't have my camera at hand. We almost took a room at a pension house resembling a crack house with huge roaches and no seat on the toilet (recommended by Lonely Planet by the way), but after some persistence we were able to locate a dumpy but clean and decent place. Whew! After checking the weather forecast and finding out in a hidden section at the back of our travel guide that it is rain season on this side of the archipelago, we decided to board a plane instead of the ferry. That's how we made it back to Manila and are now headed North to explore a bit of Luzon. Somehow we made it onto a really nice bus with enormous reclining seats like those in first class on an airplane.  

Camiguin 02/20 – 02/21

Arrival to Camiguin Island.

We departed from our hotel in Taglibaran much earlier than we needed, boarded a tricycle for the bus station, and got right onto a bus headed to Jagna, the port town where a ferry was to take us to Camiguin. Everything was going so smoothly until I remembered that I left our passports in the safe deposit box of our hotel. Luckily we were barely out of the bus station when the horrifying thought dawned on me. The driver was just pulling out, so I got up, made a ruckus and headed out the door. We hailed another tricycle, this one didn't know where our hotel was. So we tried to direct him the best we could and actually made it back to the bus station in about fifteen minutes. There we were presented by two options. We could take a bus that was to depart at 11 am or we could take a minivan that was only slightly more expensive but was waiting around to fill up with people. We opted for the bus because 1) it was more roomy and had open windows and 2) it had a scheduled departure time. After sitting on the bus until about 10 minutes past 11:00, my panic mode set it. Why wasn't the bus moving? The minivan had already left and was probably faster than the enormous bus. I asked the driver and now he was telling me that he would leave at 11:30. Apparently, he was trying to fill the bus up and the 11:00 departure time was only an estimate. After three months of travel I am still not able to let go of a rigid schedule. How can I be sure that the driver would actually leave at 11:30? He had lied to me once already. So, off we went. I yanked our backpacks off the bus and proceeded towards the minivan where the minivan-wallah was making fun of us but seemed happy to take us on anyway. Here we again sat for a while watching as the bus departed and I had a little mental breakdown wondering if we would indeed make our ferry. We did make it just in time. The driver drove like a maniac and we almost smashed into another car along the way while Peter and I argued about how crazy I get when schedules don't work out as planned. I've had a few breakdowns already. 

In the Jeepney.

The ferry ride was very bumpy and quite fun as we hit many large waves. We arrived to Camiguin in the late afternoon and took a Jeepney to Mambajao on which we met several nice people who told us that our noses were long and pointy. The ride was fun until the driver ran over a dog and just kept on going as it wriggled and wailed on the street behind us. The horror and noise reminded me of India. We stayed at a hotel in downtown Mambajao, the place to be on the island as it has several streets, a market, and a karaoke machine at the restaurant in our hotel where locals wailed day and night. We were also surprised to learn that we would be staying in the Mickey Mouse room which was, of course, completely decorated in a Mickey Mouse theme. The plan was to stay on this island for several days. Camiguin is tiny, and made up entirely of volcanoes, one of which is live. There are constant rain clouds at the volcano peaks and the beaches are made up of black volcanic debris. It is certainly off the tourist trail as there were only a few stray hippies and older men with young Filipino wives that we encountered. It was quite nice because we felt like we were staying in a real Filipino town rather than a tourist area where people are constantly hassling you to buy something. People were very friendly, several individuals told me with pride about how safe their little island was, and even tried to help us out and gave us advice without wanting anything in return. The following day we rented a motorbike, this one was more of a dirt bike/motorcycle and was a bit more challenging than the scooters we were used to because it was not automatic. We explored the beaches, visited the waterfalls, and swam in the hot springs. We visited pretty much everything there was to visit on the island in one day.

Volcanic beach.

Volcano in the distance is covered in clouds.

This is the airport.  No wonder there are no flights.

Downtown Mambajao - view of volcano from  our hotel.

Bad-ass motorbike - not ours!

The stations of the cross are a huge crowd draw during
religious holidays.  People gather from miles around to
make the journey to the stations carved into the volcano.

This sunken cemetery apparently went
under after the volcano erupted killing
thousands of people.

Hot Springs.  The water is heated by
the volcano.

Village along the slopes of the volcano.

We seem to have become quite the vagabonds because the following day we figured it was time to move on. We came, we saw, and other than climbing the live volcano itself (we contemplated this but decided against it because of the constant rain at the peak and the steep, long hike to the top) there was nothing left to do except....relax?

This little doggy has his sea legs.

Bohol 02/18 – 02/19

 

After much contemplation and discussion, we reassured ourselves that we could not physically see everything in the Philippines and finally made a decision as to where to go next. Man, it was a tough one. No matter where we go, it seems we can't go wrong. The fretting comes from missing out on all the other areas we don't have time to explore. We could have easily stayed on the island of Luzon, which is where Manila is located, and gone to see rice terraces, caves, mountain, volcanoes and still had time to hit up some islands and gone surfing. I really wish we had two more months to do the Philippines justice. But, because we were still a bit wary from our Sapa experience and the forecast looked rainy and foggy up in the Cordilleras (northern Luzon mountains) we decided to head south, a bit off the tourist circuit, and hit up a few islands with some less famous mountains and volcanoes packed into a small area. First stop was Bohol island.

After a short plane ride to Cebu City, we hopped on a ferry to Tagbilaran on Bohol. The ferry was very strange. We had to put our luggage through security like at the airport. They played a move (Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants) after a short prayer on the television and snacks were dispensed just like on a plane.

We finally made it onto the island after dark and headed to our hotel of choice only to find out that they only had an “executive suite” available which was a bit out of our price range. Ugh. After much squabbling, we decided to take it because the nearby accommodations were too scary looking. The following morning we searched for another hotel, but apparently Tagbilaran is home to some of the crummiest hotels. We had actually made it to the most decent one and were excited to learn that we would be able to downgrade to a regular room for our second night. Also, the food at this place must have been prepared by some secret master chef because we had the best soup and most delicious chicken and pork adobo, a typical dish of marinated meat in vinegar and garlic

Having sorted out all the annoyances of travel, we headed out to Bohol's Chocolate Hills. It was a good two hour drive out to the hills, but through some of the most beautiful rural settings. We passed through villages, rice fields, forests, and hills. The Chocolate Hills are a sea of almost identical hills formed from the uplift of ancient coral deposits. They're called Chocolate because they turn brown in the dry season. The drive was definitely worthwhile as the hills were amazing. They kind of looked like a grassy, green moonscape.

Forested road to the Chocolate Hills.

On the way back I practiced riding the motorbike since the country side was almost completely deserted. Peter is usually the one who drives because I am too scared of traffic. We also stopped at the Tarsier Research and Development Center to see Tarsiers in their native habitat. An endangered species, the Tarsier is a cute and cuddly primate with huge eyes. It's much smaller than I had expected, about the size of my fist. I wanted to give it hugs and kisses, but apparently they don't like that, their bones can be easily broken if you pick them up, and they have very sharp little teeth which they like to bite with.

The Tarsier.

Rice fields and lush tropical foliage.

Water Buffalo.

Friends from the road.  As usual in SE Asia,
safety is of utmost importance.

Tagbilaran traffic as seen from our motorbike.

The Bohol rickshaw is a motorbike with an added seat that is
extremely small, barely enough space for two,
plus a cover.  They look like a funny little cars
and each has a special message like "In God We Trust"
or "Glory to the Son of God" and "I Love God Above All".

Manila 02/16 – 02/17

Manila, Manila...I am not sure what the heck is going on in this city. Are we even still in Asia? We pay in pesos and all the street names are in Spanish. There are churches and cathedrals rather than temples and pagodas. Sometimes it feels like we are in South America rather than SE Asia and I keep expecting people to speak to me in Spanish. Yet, the language is unrecognizable except for a few English words that seem to be scattered in every once in a while. Also, everyone speaks English and the people here are the friendliest we have encountered so far.

Jeepney traffic.

It's all very strange and this city is huge. Manila is basically a city made up of a bunch of smaller cities. Each seems to have its own look and vibe. You can go from a posh city with Gucci and Channel shops to one resembling Mumbai with open sewers, grime, and swarms of people within a short cab ride. Cabs are a must because of the distances and thankfully they are super cheap. Our other transport option is the Jeepney which is a tricked out extended open jeep-like vehicle. Its fun to ride, but hard for us to figure out the routes. There is also, of course, the Philippine version of the tuk-tuk or rickshaw which is the smallest form of transportation yet. It's a tiny, roofed sidecar bolted onto a motorcycle or bike.

Peter contemplates the transportation choices,

Food in the Philippines is definitely the weirdest we have come across yet which is something I definitely did not expect. Yes, there are regular things to eat. There is fried chicken everywhere and we tried some from Max's - probably the best fried chicken ever. But we are always willing and excited to experience the local dishes. We tried the Philippine version of spring rolls. These are called “lumpia” and had unrecognizable vegetables wrapped in a tortilla/crepe roll. Peter described their odor as “toilet bowl cleaner.” We also had “Krispy Sisig”, which is basically chopped up pig ears with onions and egg, and “Pinakbet”, vegetables and pork skin in liver sauce. Both very tasty and a bit gross at the same time.

Krispy Sisig on the left and Pinakbet on the right.

Street food is delicious and hygienic.
My bowl was covered in a
clean plastic bag prior to being
filled with soup

We spent one day exploring Rizal Park, Ermita, and Intramuros, an old walled Spanish city dating from 1571 which was mostly destroyed in WWII. Another day we spent walking down Roxas Boulevard and hanging out in Makati, downtown Manila. The rest of our time we explored the streets as best we could.. We also fretted over what to do in the Philippines. Since we did no prior research we were unaware of all the Philippines had to offer (mountains, rice terraces, volcanoes, islands, beaches, and caves) and now we had to decide how to best use our short time left.

Intramuros.

Illegal phot0graph inside San Agustin Church, Intramuros.

Dramatic ceilings inside San Agustin Church.

Safety first!  Children play on the streets of Ermita.

These armored vehicles are everywhere.  Also, there
are guards at all restaurants, shops, and banks with huge guns.

Trying to decide on the best route.

A fancy grave at a really cool cemetery.  We made it here one
evening and were given a "tour" by a group of young boys.
There were all sorts of people that seemed to be living
at the cemetery next to these elaborate graves.

Domed chapel at the fancy mall in Makati.

Adventures in Asia

Sadly we decided to say goodbye to Vietnam today. Always looking for the best deal, we found that the least expensive flight to our next destination meant that we would need to book two separate flights instead of one combined flight with a layover. This was fine with us, saved us a bunch of money, but meant that we had exactly 2 hours between the arrival of our plane until the departure of the next one....which really meant that we had precisely 1 hour between landing and check-in closure. We were cutting it really, really close. The first Tiger Airways flight was perfect. No delays. We blew through immigration and customs which meant that I ran like a mad woman and knocked people out of my way. Peter says it's the Russian in me – no offense to any Russians that may happen to read this. And then we waited, and waited, and waited, and waited for about 30 minutes to pick up our luggage. Apparently, they were taking their time. We sprinted from the arrivals area to departures for the next check in with only 20 minutes left to check-in closing time only to be told that we would not be allowed to board the plane. Philippines immigration law says that you must have proof of onward travel to be allowed past immigration. We would not be allowed on the plane because we would be deported right back to Singapore and the airline would be fined...unless of course we booked an onward ticket right then and there. We both stood there silent for a few minutes. I knew about this requirement. Every country we had been to has it, but none of them actually enforce it. Even India, with all their paperwork and bureaucracy, didn't enforce that rule. I did my research before we left for our trip, but I did not anticipate that we would go to the Philippines, hence did not know about this little glitch. With about ten minutes left we again found ourselves at the Tiger Airways counter in Singapore buying yet another ticket. This time, though, we were able to buy the least expensive ticket out of Manila within the next 30 days so it only cost us a bit more....but it sure was a harrowing experience.

On the plane I noticed that someone left their boarding pass in the magazine compartment of my seat. It was for the Tiger Airways flight we were on this morning. We were on the same exact plane that we were on earlier today. We, along with our bags, had gotten off the plane and then after 2 hours of hassle and stress got right back onto the same aircraft. Finally, upon arrival in Manila, the immigration official did not check our onward ticket even though there was indeed a sign proclaiming that it was required.

Sapa 02/11 – 02/14

Sapa woman and fresh meat on a stick.

After Hanoi the plan was to either move on to the mountain town of Sapa or the coastal paradise of Halong Bay where “incredible islands rise from the emerald waters” as Lonely Planet put it. But, from the photos in the hundreds of travel agencies around Hanoi Halong Bay looked a lot like Krabi and Ko Phi Phi. So, since the weather was so great in Hanoi we opted to first go to Sapa and see if we still wanted to get to Halong Bay upon our return. Weather is usually cold, rainy and there is low visibility due to fog during the months of February to April in Vietnam. But the weather forecast looked good so we took a chance. Also, we have been lugging around hiking boots for the entire trip which we were supposed to use in Nepal, so I was determined to get some serious hiking in and put those boots to good use.

We booked an overnight tourist train to Lao Cai, arriving exhausted at 5am and were taken on to Sapa in a tightly packed minibus. We drove peacefully through beautiful misty hills carved with rice paddies in the early morning light only to be overrun by minority hilltribe women awaiting the tourist minivans in Sapa town. Apparently, women from the local tribes come to Sapa to sell souvenirs that they make. Because it is low season, there are actually very few tourists but many, many hilltribe women. They tried to sell us pillowcases, bags, earrings, and other trinkets before we even got off the bus. They would knock on the window saying “You buy from me?” It must be quite a harsh living they have to scrape out during the winter months.

We got to our hotel and were very happy to learn that we could already check in even though it was only 7am and took a much needed nap. The rest of the day we spent exploring Sapa and planning the next two days which were to include motorbiking through the mountains, visiting all sorts of hilltribes, hiking up Mt. Fansipan and just overall having a wonderfully exhausting time exploring the beautiful landscape. Yes, it was a bit foggy. You couldn't see for miles around. But, it was sunny and overall clear, the temperature was warm in the sunshine and refreshingly crisp and cool in the shade. We even had a very nice view from our hotel.

The following morning we awoke to an impenetrable fog. You could barely see two feet ahead and it was cold and wet. There was no way we could hike or ride a motorbike in this weather. Saddened by this turn of events we consoled ourselves by eating bbq meat on a stick and conversing with locals and hilltribe women in town. We also met a group of young engineers from Hanoi. Seems that Sapa is a popular place for Hanoi tourists. They come to hang out and drink rice wine which they shared with us. It was pretty harsh. Kind of tasted like moonshine. Thankfully, our hotel was nice enough to provide us with a room heater and an electric blanket (there is no heating in most Vietnamese hotels) and even gave us a bottle of wine as an apology for the ruckus that the Hanoians were making from their party in the room next to ours (we hadn't even complained). The following day there was more fog. It wasn't quite as dense so we attempted a hike to the closest village - Cat Cat Village, home to the Black Hmong Tribe. The fog did clear for parts of the hike so we did see some rice terraces, glimpses of the beautiful landscape, got some exercise and finally muddied our boots properly.

View from hotel on arrival.

View changed quite a bit the next day.

Sapa town engulfed in fog.

The "food court" at Sapa market.

Views from our trek to Cat Cat Village.

Rice paddies up close.

Village architecture.

Hmong tribe children.

A cock fighter we met in town.

We decided to cut our stay a day short and return to Hanoi the following day on the day train in lieu of the night train. The trip took 11 hours as the day train is much slower and stops at every station along the way. Fortunately we booked ourselves the soft seats. They were tiny, seemed to be designed for children and even the smallest Vietnamese looked a bit uncomfortable, but at least they weren't the hard seats. We got a glimpse of those on our way to our coach and by “hard seat” they really mean a wooden bench. So we sat squished into our luxury seats and I stared out the window for about 7 hours while Peter played games on his phone and computer. I even managed to fall asleep for a while in a contorted position. I was exhausted from constantly being on the road, from the cold, and the frustration involved that goes along with booking travel arrangements, not being able to communicate properly, being constantly harassed to buy something that I don't want while at the same time feeling terrible about it, and the mistakes we have made in the last few days. We ate boiled bamboo, boiled peanuts, and strange tiny fruit resembling a cross between an apple and a plum. Just like the local travelers. And although the ride was long, the scenery outside was a treat. Rural Vietnam really looks just like it does in the movies – tiny thatch roof huts, rice paddies, water buffalo, and yellowish-red dirt roads enveloped in lush tropical greenery. The rice paddies are amazing. They seem to go on forever and the cultivating methods have not changed for hundreds of years. People still use water buffalo to plow, wear conical hats and sow by hand. Every once in a while there were small cemeteries or just single graves interspersed within paddies.

We arrived back in Hanoi late in the evening and still had time to get in a delicious meal – a hot pot soup with clams, fish, and vegetables. Since the weather is so cold and dreary, we decided to skip Halong Bay and the coastal towns that we were to go to next. No point in traveling to more places that you can't fully enjoy or sitting around waiting for good weather. We are leaving behind Vietnam in search of a tiny bit more sun and paradise before its time to return to the cold and gloom of Chicago. Hopefully we will find it.

Last meal in Hanoi.