Out of all the countries on my Asian trip, this was, unfortunately, my least favourite which is why it has taken me a while to write about it. I will try to keep it brief though. I spent 27 days here. It was the second country I explored in Asia. To save for this trip I was working absolutely mad hours in the orange factory and didn’t have time to do any in-depth research. This meant, when I arrived, not only was it monsoon season but also typhoon season, both of which wreaked havoc with my travel plans.
I arrived in Cebu city and hated it to be honest. It was so industrial and it seemed like I had stayed in a bad part of town. The humidity that came with the monsoon season was another level of which I had never experienced before. I literally did not want to leave the airconditioning. No level of humidity I had experienced during my two years in Australia had prepared me for this. No one in my hotel was friendly except the security guy who opened the door for me, all the time. I spent two nights there, two nights too long. I shared a room with 80 beds and probably 50 people. The beds were in these tiny pods…it reminded me of a sci-fi movie.
I headed down to the south of the island. I caught the public bus from Cebu city to Boijoon which I could not seem to be able to pronounce. It took me forever to find the bus at the manic bus station. I put my bag in the luggage compartment and hopped on the three-hour bus which was costing me less than two dollars. It was pretty amazing.
An hour in I saw my first monsoon rains. The road turned into a river, the likes of which I had never seen before. I was scared shitless as it even seemed that the driver had sped up – aquaplaning in action. Eventually, I figured out I was near my stop I yelled out and then jumped up to make sure the driver would stop not wanting to walk in the rain. There was a pop-down TV screen in the middle of the bus playing a DVD. Filipinos, well, let’s be honest, they are small people. The bus itself had an unusually low roof. I felt like a giant. I ran forward as the bus hit the brakes and I went smack into the TV screen just as the bus stopped. The screen went blank, all the screens went blank. OH shit. I stumbled seeing stars. My stomach sank. There was a universal groan from the passengers. A few people nearby started to giggle and everyone started chattering in their language with possibly grumbling about the lost movie. The conductor just beckoned me off. I apologized profusely to the many people who had no English. The conductor looked completely confused when I asked him to open the luggage compartment, I had noticed I was probably the only one using it. The luggage compartment was finally opened up. Dirty rainwater gushed out, then my backpack plopped on to the ground. Still pouring rain I picked up my thoroughly soaked bag, now double the weight and walked with a throbbing head into what I hoped was my accommodation. There’s nothing quite like the monsoon season.
For the first few days in Boijoon my hostel was utterly deserted. Literally, I was the only guest. Who else who dare travel through the monsoon season? It was pretty lonely. It was still too soon after leaving Australia and all my close friends, I needed company around me. It was getting me down. I had to get all my clothes cleaned twice costing me twelve dollars and I was trying desperately to dry my smelly backpack. I spent too much time on Facebook and the rest of the time watching Nikita a TV show. I was glad of the internet connection in this remote part of the island. It was continuously raining and I had no desire to be running around in it. I was still recovering from the chest infection from Indonesia and was on my second course of antibiotics.
Then a Dutch couple arrived by the name of Marten and Talin. Finally, someone to talk to. I was exploding with the chat by that stage. We played many games of monopoly and shared travel stories while buying overpriced food. We enjoyed a couple Toblerones which went out of date in 2006. Chocolate is a luxury. I was in luck though – Marten was a chef. So we made a trip to the local market and bought mostly vegetables as the meat looked disgusting, sitting raw, covered with flies, on dirty tables in the heat, it would surely kill you. We then had maybe the best BBQ I have ever had, honestly and I don’t even know how because there was no meat!
As we were chatting one morning Talin asked me if I felt unsafe due to the hostage situation. I had no idea what she was talking about. Turns out there were militants at war trying to declare independence on the island just south of us. Pirates had captured four tourists as hostages – this week. I googled it. This is not happening right now. Suddenly, standing out as the only white tourists was a serious problem. I could not believe this was happening. I looked out at the unsettled ocean fully expecting to see a pirate ship.
Pre-travel research, of course, could not have foreseen this hostage situation, however, even an awareness of an entire civil war going on here could have lessened the absolute shock I was experiencing. Two hostages were beheaded when a ransom wasn’t paid. (I watched the Norweigan hostage get released on the news a year later). Apparently, this is the primary way they fund their terrorist groups. I noticed the red zone I was now in as I googled the travel advisory maps. Typhoon. Monsoon. Pirates. Terrorism. Just great Jess.
We did a trip, thirty minutes by local bus down to Oslob to swim with the whale sharks – which is why this island made my list in the first place. It was raining of course, just like it did every day during the monsoon. Swimming beside and appreciating the sheer size of the biggest fish in the world is something I will never forget and the highlight of my time here. Although they had strict rules to protect the whale sharks, I don’t think they are being enforced strongly enough. If it continues to grow as a tourist attraction then it will possibly cause damage. It was much too wet to walk up the mountain to the nearby waterfall and too slippy and dangerous by motorbike. Thanks to the monsoon there were bloody waterfalls all around us anyway. I had not packed for this weather.
Next up, Dave, an American moved into my room. He was a teacher working in South Korea with plenty of tales to tell. He joined us that night we went to the shack next door where the locals practice their national past time – Karaoke. They are obsessed with it in the Philippines. It doesn’t matter whether you can sing or not. It is loud and goes on every night in most towns I have visited. Mostly, they love ballads and believe it or not the Corrs are super popular! So strange to hear it blaring out all the time reminding me of my mother playing them as I grew up. We bought a five-dollar bottle of brandy and with some Dutch courage, of course, I had to butcher some Kelly Clarkson songs. All in good fun. There was something very liberating about singing your heart out surrounded by strangers in one of 7,641 islands.
I said goodbye to Talin and Marten and spent a couple days hanging out with Dave. We swam out to the new pontoon, played board games, stared at the rain and not much else really. He headed back to Korea to work and I headed on to Moalboal hoping for some diving. Part of me wondered if I would meet any more people travelling. This is not how I imagined it.
My week in Moalboal was a mixed experience. On one hand, I got to dive with an entire school of a billion tuna. All of them swimming around me, something magical and special beyond anything you can see on TV. Immersive. Spine-tingling. The whole world went dark as they passed over me, you couldn’t see the start or end. It just surrounds you. I enjoyed seeing my favourite sea creature too, a beautiful turtle. What a spot for diving. Probably the best I’ve done outside of Australia. Strange though not having other tourists or divers. It was just the guide and I. He had very limited English but my enthusiasm for diving was not lost on him.
On the other hand, I struggled without a working ATM. I managed to buy the diving package through the company but I found myself cash strapped for food and accommodation. In the end, I got my Irish card working as my three Aussie ones were declined. After over two years of inactivity though AIB froze my card. However, worst of all the only other ‘tourist’ in town was an old Russian guy who was staying at a hotel. It started when he sat beside me while I was eating dinner and was trying to convince me to come back to his to see his ‘awesome’ cable TV. Is he for real? It ended with two days of stalking and warning my hostel owner not to let him into the place. I got an extra person on security. Nice touch – I was their only guest though. The Russian was an absolute total creep that would not take no for an answer. It’s disgusting. I was glad to leave that town.
I went to meet Saya a Japanese/Korea girl in Cebu City and we caught the ferry to Bohol, the island beside Cebu. I lived with Saya for a couple months in Sydney the previous year, it was so strange seeing her here. Comforting though. We spent two nights on Bohol and enjoyed the world-famous (apparently) Alona beach. I was not overly impressed, probably something to do with the monsoon season and the pouring, constant rain. Saya rented a motorbike to see the chocolate hills (not real chocolate – World famous natural 1268 cone-shaped hills) while I went off diving again. How could I not, it was low season and so cheap. Both dives were really good although I felt very sick in between them. I think after diving the Great Barrier Reef it is hard to find dives that are super exciting (I loved the tuna fish in Moalboal though).
I said a slight emotional goodbye to Saya as we caught different taxis back on to Cebu. Another connection to my life in Australia. Why is it so hard to leave it behind me? I was supposed to fly from Cebu to Manila, a two-hour stopover and then on to Bangkok but the typhoon changed all that. I spent countless hours trying to get to Manila. Then I got stuck for over two days in Manila. I had been warned about Manila, but I barely had time to get nervous about it.
I found the closest place to the airport to stay. It was 3km away so I expected it to take about 15 minutes. I had to wait two hours for a taxi, it was ten at night and I don’t think I have ever felt so unsafe. I had no internet, in a big city, I wasn’t meant to be in. I had no research done whatsoever. There was a massive typhoon coming in. I witnessed a couple fights on the street. I was approached various times asked for money or sex, or both. One security man from the airport kept me company until his shift was finished. I was so grateful for it. As he was leaving he said, ‘be very very careful.’ I was on high alert. The taxi that should have been fifteen minutes took three hours. I actually thought he was driving me off somewhere to kill me just like a story I had heard recently about a backpacker in Manila. The driver just decided to shoot her in the head and take her bag.
I was never so relieved to get into a hostel in my life, I was greeted with free pizza and went to bed stressed and scared. I was shaking in my bunk bed with the aftershock of adrenaline. I probably hadn’t been in any danger but I felt unsafe and vulnerable. I worried about the typhoon, that it would mess up weeks of carefully planned travel (well the flights I had planned). I worried I could be stuck in this nightmare city for days. As the winds from the typhoon picked up and displaced thousands of people, causing severe damage, I managed to get RTE player on my phone. I found a video of Teresa Mannion had gone viral- worldwide of a storm hitting Ireland. I found it comical as I was on lockdown due to a real storm where tens of thousands were affected and homes lost.
The only food sold was on the street of the hostel were meat skewers which I too late realised where chicken hearts and chicken intestines. It was a dodgy enough ghetto-like area but there were some very friendly people on the street. I lived off the pizza instead of intestines. Luckily the typhoon finally changed direction and I flew out to Thailand the following night. All in all, the Philipines was quite an adventure and taught me many lessons.
theaccidentalbackpacker 
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