Last Days in Toledo

The weekend just past was my last in Toledo before I transfer to the new project in Iloilo.  I had ideas of doing all the things I'd been meaning to do and photographing everything I'd wanted to photograph during this last weekend but ended up not doing very much at all.

Old Japanese House Window

I went cycling along the coast road on Sunday and due to a misunderstanding with the driver ended up going 25 miles from the house instead of the planned 18.5 miles but I cycled it all the same.  It wasn't so pleasant as it was early afternoon when I set off and so it was very hot, and I was cycling towards the sun so for a fair part of the journey I couldn't see very much at all.  What with the heat and having already cycled 5 miles to the office in the morning I was rather dehydrated by the time I arrived back at the house and I'd developed a headache that bore all the hallmarks of the early onset of heat/sunstroke, so a I set about consuming vast quantities of fluids (principally sports drinks) and ate a large packet of crisps (to replace lost salts).  This seemed to do the trick.  

I've had heat/sunstroke twice (I'm not sure what the difference is?): once when working in Iraq and once when on holiday in Thailand.  It is extremely unpleasant, if not a little dangerous and so now I'm (usually) very mindful of taking precautions to avoid over-exposure to the sun. Symptoms include the worst headache ever and moving your eyeballs is excruciatingly painful so all you can do is try to look straight ahead, and it feels as though your eyes are going to pop out of your eye sockets.  In addition you have severe diarrhoea, vomiting and your body alternates between having shivers, despite being very hot, and then the next minute sweating despite feeling freezing cold.  The whole episode leaves you feeling extremely wretched.

The weekend before we had a shopping trip to Manila but I felt it was hardly worth it.  Manila may only be an hour's flight from Cebu but when you factor in the 2 hour drive from Toledo to the airport, then the 1 hour in the airport for check-in, followed by the taxi journey to the hotel (and not taking into account the the flight delay) it works out at nearly 6 hours from the house to the hotel room, and the same coming back.  Factor into this the cost of the flights and the hotel it seemed kind of pointless, apart from the fact we managed to have something decent to eat for a change.  

In addition, the Philippines seems to excel in shop assistants that stand over you.  Firstly they ask you if they can help and no isn't a word they understand.  It's so bad they actually crowd you and some shove items in your direction saying "this is nice" without having one iota of an idea of what you do or do not like.  But even worse that that, what I really find off-putting is the way that no sooner you've looked at an item on a hanger or display and returned it they're there, refolding it, straightening it or rearranging it in a manner that suggests you should never have disturbed their precious display in the first place.  

I have three different way of dealing with these shops and the assistants: 

1. Walk out; 

2. Walk as fast as I can around the shop to see if they can keep up and change direction suddenly to catch them unaware, and; 

3. As they approach, turn and start to leave the shop.  When they see you leaving and head back to their organising and folding I go back in.  But when they approach me, I start to leave again.  It's amazing how long it takes for some to get the message.

Jewellers in Singapore are even worse: you only have to look in the window from outside the shop and they come out and hassle you.  I can't speak for the rest of the population but I'm sure if people are left alone they are far more likely to buy something and we're not idiots, if we need assistance, WE'LL ASK!

What seems to make this worse is the sheer number of assistants/staff working in not only shops but all organisations.  I can only conclude that due to the criminally low wages that are paid, most establishments can afford to have one or two or three or four more than necessary.  Even the hotel the lobby seemed to be full of employees whose only job seemed to be smile at the hotel guests and look extraordinarily pretty.  If they're really lucky they get a proper job to do, like pressing the lift call button or opening a door.  This excess of numbers does serve to demonstrate that having more personnel definitely doesn't help to actually make things more efficient.  In fact it has the opposite effect in that most places provide pretty hopeless service where they seem to have too many bodies.

On leaving Manila and whilst we were queuing for check-in at the ultra-modern, brand new terminal there was suddenly a loud cock-a-doodle-do.  In the line next to us there was a local checking in two fighting cocks for his flight although we couldn't figure out if they were being checked in for the hold, hand baggage or whether they had their own seats. Actually, the latter isn't as silly as it sounds as Arab Sheiks will book a seat, sometimes in first or business class, for their falcons. We thought the check-in chickens was hilarious but for the Philippines it was the most normal thing in the world.  Can you imagine turning up at Heathrow with your two favourite chooks and trying to check them in?

On the return leg of the flight with Cebu Pacific the cabin crew were offering free Cebu Pacific canvas bags for those passengers who were prepared to come to the front of the plane and sing a Christmas Carol into the PA system.  Incredibly, but unsurprisingly there was no shortage of volunteers so for part of the flight we were subjected to Christmas carol karaoke.

A few observations: despite being one of the poorest places I've ever been to, why does everyone still have a mobile phone?  And what I find makes travelling economy class so unbearable is not the cramped seats or bad food or even being herded like cattle but the pure selfishness and bad manners of fellow travellers.

Just About Completed

By the end of this week I will have packed up my life and existence into a collection of suitcases, rucksacks and holdalls and will be on the move, transferring to Iloilo.  I have now found a house for rent, a rather expensive one I might add, and because I found it on Ebay and have paid rather a large sum in deposits and advanced rent without ever actually meeting the landlord, I'm now wondering and somewhat worried that it might be a scam.  I'm thinking that when I turn up at the house I'm going to find that it's not actually for rent, that the guy who says he owns it, doesn't (and who I've never met and who isn't even in the country) and I'll end up with nowhere to stay, which I find more disconcerting than actually losing the deposit.

I'd like to say I'm a little saddened at leaving the accommodation where I've been staying for the duration of my stay in Toledo  but I can't.  There's been no internet for over a week, which is bad enough, but what really irks me is the couldn't-give-a-toss attitude and that's-the-way-it-is mentality to it all.  And apart from the occasional fresh mango I won't miss the stone cold fired eggs and greasy bacon for breakfast in the mornings.  

Reflections in the Car Window

I also won't miss the inhabitants of the loft space, whatever they are.  I suspect they're rats.  For the most part they're silent but every once in while they have what sounds like a game of tag and there a loud, mad fit of scurrying and running about.  This is made all the more disconcerting by the fact that there is recessed lighting in the ceiling of the bedroom and in a Winston Smith type of way I go to bed at night and imagine waking up with a rat on my face after it has popped out the light bulb and fallen through the ceiling.  I've stopped referring to it as the bedroom and now call it Room 101.

Alternatively there's the very high possibility the rats will chew through the plastic insulation on some electrical wiring as they consider this to be a highly delicious and nutritious delicacy, thereby causing a huge fire that will  burn down the entire block made even more likely by fact that the fire station is some distance away and the fuel for the fire engines has probably been embezzled to fuel the fire chief's car.  Still, supposing we aren't all incinerated, the residents could use the water in the swimming pool to put the fire out.  The Canadian living next door to me would have a team of his own judging by the amount of hookers he has going back and forth.  Once again, complaining about the rats in the loft yields no response or action from the owner.