Island Overdose

The weekend following the trip to the Island of Sumilon we went to the Island of Bantayan and as it was a public holiday on the Friday, we had a little more time to spare. This island is located diagonally opposite to Sumilon so instead of being located in the south-east, Bantayan is located to the north-west tip of Cebu. It's around the same distance/travel time from Toledo - which makes sense as Toledo is located centrally along the west coast of Cebu. Bantayan is much larger than Sumilon though, and has it's own towns, residents and several resorts to chose from.

The drive north was pretty much the same as driving south, still scenic and pretty enough to hold ones interest. There were the ususal rice paddies and some sugar cane plantation, which I hadn't seen on Cebu before. The road condition varied from mostly very good to rather dire in places but there is evidence that there is process of improvements and upgrading taking place.

I read that Bantayan is similar to how Boracay was 15 years ago before it became developed and commercialised. Currently there are none of the reknowed resort operators there and the ones that are available in Bantayan are locally owned. We had booked in advance into the Santa Fe Resort for one night and the Kota Beach the following night.

The Ferry to Bantayan Island

On arrival at the Hagnaya ferry terminal of you are mobbed by locals offering to carry your bag or to guide you to the ferry or to offer tours or show you where to park your car. You name it, they have thought of everything in an effort to earn a tip. I suppose this kind of thing is to be expected in such a poor country but really, it becomes awfully tiresome after while, especially when a refusal is met with downright rudeness bordering on belligerence. But worse than this was seemingly lack of courtesy and goood manners which really adds to the feeling that as a foreigner you are there only to be ruthlessly exploited.

The ferry ride from to the terminal at Santa Fe on Bantayan was uneventful but marred by an overly persistant tout who just went on and on and on about renting his boat for a tour. This guy wouldn't take no for an answer and his rates were an outragous price and a complete rip-off.

On arrving at the Santa Fe terminal it was more of the same but thankfully the resort had sent a jeepney to pick us up, but still there were enough people offering to carry my small, perfectly managable overnight bag the 10 yards from the ferry to the jeepney. The other problem with this mobbing is it makes you feel distinctly uneasy and you can't relax trying to keep your eye on your camera and wallet.

The Santa Fe resort is only a short hop from the ferry terminal and to be honest you could walk it in 10 minutes but wouldn't want to otherwise you'd be followed by a huge chattering entourage offering to carry your bag and all manner of other services.

At the Santa Fe Resort the hassling continued. Whilst there seems to be a rule to stop touts from entering the grounds, some still do whilst others just stand and stare from the hotel boundary or continually call from the gate and you enter and leave the hotel to the beach. This is really off-putting.

Santa Fe Beach

The beach chalets were fully booked so we took a hotel room. The room was small and poorly maintained. The shower water reeked of sewage when it was first turned on - truly a foul and nauseating stench, similar to that experienced on Sumilon. The restaurant was ok but by now my expectations aren't very high. The restaurant staff are predominantly surly and disinterested. If you leave a tip you won't receive an acknowledgement or a thank you.

There is a TV in the restaurant but the portly owner of the place pulls up a sofa chair and foot stool to within a few feet of the set, puts his feet up and sits there with the remote control (which he really doesn't need as he's so close to the set) watching it like he's in his own lounge, all the time barking orders at the restaurant staff. Perhaps this is why they are so sullen?

The beach is great and a picture postcard of what you'd imagine a tropical beach to be like but the sea is somewhat sterile with nothing to see but the waters are nice and warm.

We eventually succumbed to the touts who were offering a reasonable rate to visit Virgin Island for what we were told would be great snorkelling. Having been hassled to take the trip throughout the ferry ride to Batayan at a rip-off price of Php2500 an offer of Php500 seemed a good deal. However, when we supposedly arrived at "Virgin Island" there were no fish and no coral to be seen. After the event I learnt that we were taken to Cabulauan Island instead (there is no Virgin Island on any of the maps I could see and there is no internet available on Bantayan Island to research it) and to add insult to injury we paid the entrance fee of Php200 to enter Virgin Island, so we were royally ripped off. You may argue that tourists are fair game at being ripped off and we should have been better informed before we went but I don't go along with this. I accept that as a foreigner I may have to spend a bit more in order to support the local economy but this was downright fraudulent. This may benefit a few locals in the short term but it isn't exactly going to enamour the foreign tourists into coming to the island. Ripping off the tourists is the economic equivalent to the environmental impact of dynamite fishing, which seems to have been so popular in the Philippines: it benefits a very small minority in the short term but impacts the honest majority more severely in the long run.

Not the Virgin Island

We only stayed one night at the Santa Fe and on the recommendation of our driver we tried to book a night in their sister resort, the Ogtong Cave Resort. However, they seemingly only had one room available (after initially telling us they had other rooms available) and that it was Php18,000 a night - £240! I can't see that any place is worthy of that charge in Batayan but I suppose people do pay it. The check out time at the Santa Fe was ridiculously early at 10:00am. We already had a room at booked at the Kota Beach Resort so we figured that a couple of hours wasn't going to be so difficult to deal with.

We'd actually booked this resort a couple of weeks in advance but due to the early check-out requirements of the Santa Fe we turned up a little bit early, When we arrived at the Kota Beach we had high hopes but these were soon dashed. The receptionist had all the charm and charisma of funeral director and the good manners of a hormonal teenager and we were told that our room wouldn't be available until 2:00pm instead of 12:00 as the occupants were having a late check-out! Talk about going from the sublime to the ridiculous.

Our Beach Hut (Almost in the Sea)

As a result we were going to go to the resort next door but it was full so we had to sit it out for 4 hours until the room was available rather than tramp around trying to find an alternative. In the event, the owner said he would discount the room from the usual Php2000 to Php1600 but reneged on this and actually charged us Php1700. The chalet we were given was right on the sea front, so close in fact that the waves crashed over the verandah at high tide but the room was awfully basic and in need of refurbishment. The bed was one of the most uncomfortable I'd ever slept in having one of those foam mattresses that you gradually sink into during the night so that you end up the same shape as banana and as I sleep on my side, this gives me horrendous backache.

Kota Beach

The restaurant was ok but again the staff were surly. The location was fantastic in terms of the beach but the sea was full of sea grass making swimming not entirely pleasant as it was slimy and would stick to your face.

Actually, on leaving Bantayan, what with the travelling and hassles, I was thinking that I'd be better off spending the weekend sitting around the pool at my accommodation in Toledo.

Island Life

Sumilon Island from 10,000ft

The tourist trail was the theme for the weekend just past and the island of Sumilon was chosen as the destination. Sumilon is a small island located at the southern tip of Cebu just off the east coast (9 25 56.2N 123 23 24.13E). I'd seen it several times before during the flight's approach into Cebu's airport and often wondered if I'd be fortunate enough to visit as it looked really good from 10,000ft up in the air.

Jetty to the Island

From Toledo it took around 3 hours to drive to the jetty for the 10 minute trip across to the island by pump boat. At the jetty things were looking good. The weather was sunny, the sky was blue and the sea was crystal clear and we were greeted at the jetty with a cool drink and a chilled towel with which to freshen up with.

Sumilon Beach

Being the only passengers we had the boat to ourselves. On the island we were met by Iris who welcomed us with a seashell necklace. Iris was also the bellhop and porter and led us to our resort cottage on the sea shore, which was large and spacious, if a little spartan (hotel review here).

The rest of the day was spent swimming and snorkelling around the coral reefs watching the myriad of brightly coloured fish swimming by, lounging in the resort pool, relaxing in the jacuzzi and taking in a couple of beers. We were told (by Iris) that there would be a traditional Philippine dinner in the evening, followed by traditional Philippines dancing and show.

Resort Pool

I'm not usually one for this type of entertainment but as there was really very little else to do there was little choice. The meal was passable and the wine was expensive. Iris turned out to be the MC for the evenings events too. Similarly, she was the singer of the traditional songs (and the not so traditional songs). The dancing was done by the rest of the staff, changing out of their cooks uniforms and bar garb into the dancing outfits. By 9:00pm it was all over and we were the last people in the bar/restaurant finishing off the expensive wine with the staff trying not to look like they'd rather be doing their own thing than waiting on two half drunk guests, so we also turned in for the night.

Sunset Over Neighbouring Island of Negros

And what a night! Just as we left the restaurant it started to rain lightly. By the early hours of the morning there was a thunder storm so violent like I've never experienced before. The lightning and thunder were simultaneous which led me to thinks that we were about to be struck by lightning and the thunder was so loud that it made the building shake and vibrate. And the rain was an absolute deluge.

Day After the Storm

In the morning it was all calm again but because of the run-off the sea was no longer as clear as is was the day before and it was quite choppy too, making the return trip to the mainland not something to look forward to.

Breakfast (served by Iris) was a leisurely affair, partly because there wasn't much else to do with our plans for more swimming and snorkelling scuppered by the weather. Our original plan was to spend the rest of the day on the island but as the weather wasn't so great we checked out at midday to head back to Cebu City. We were checked out by Iris, who happened to be the receptionist and our bill was prepared by Iris who was also the cashier.

I left Sumilon wondering if Iris would be interested in a job in construction?

Island Hopping

Our other project is in Iloilo (pronounced eelo-eelo) on the island of Panay. We had notice from our client that this project was to kick off much earlier than originally planned so a trip to the site to obtain an understanding of the locale and logistical problems was suddenly necessary.

Organising accommodation and offices is a difficult process. It's not like the UK where you'd go and pick up the local newspaper and trawl through the "For Let" pages and make a few phone calls. Most of what is available here, as in most countries in Asia, is usually discovered by word of mouth and by being on the ground. Even in ultra-modern Singapore, the amount of information you can glean from the internet with regard to suppliers, contractors or property is surprisingly small.

Island Hopping

Whilst Iloilo is only approximately 100 miles from Toledo (a couple of hours on a good road) what must be factored into this is in order to get there you need to cross the island of Negros. This necessitates two ferry trips and a cross-island drive of Negros. Of course, we could fly from Cebu to Iloilo but then there would be the hassle of cases, cameras and arranging transport and as an essential element of the trip would be the freedom to move around, taking our own vehicle was a necessity rather than a luxury. Furthermore, because we have a large amount of equipment to ship from the Toledo site to Iloilo it was important to check out the feasibility of the route using trucks and containers.

The first ferry from Toledo departs at 7:30am so we were up early and on the quay side by 6:30am in order to buy our ticket and join the first-come, first-served queue for the ferry. Paying for the trip wasn’t as straight forward as you might imagine with it being necessary to visit several offices to pay for various different charges and taxes. Even once you make it onto the ferry you still have pay the passenger charges and there's also a compulsory tip for which no receipt is given but I'm told you have no option other than to pay unless you want to find yourself abandoned on the quay side. I couldn't help wondering that it would be so much easier if all this was lumped into one ticket and one price but that would be too easy, wouldn't it?

Dodgy Ferry

The ferry itself, when it arrived, was rather beaten and battered down its sides as though it had been banging against a quay side during a storm. This didn't inspire confidence. As I've said before, ferries in the Philippines have a notoriety for sinking. In addition, the waters between Toledo and San Carlos, normally as smooth as a mill pond, were being whipped up by high winds. I had it in mind to stay on the top deck throughout the journey, thinking that if the ferry did capsize then I didn't want to be caught below deck in a repeat of The Poseidon Adventure.

Open Deck Sleeping Arrangements

Loading of the ferry with vehicles and passengers was surprising smooth and easy. Oddly enough, the top deck was full of bunks for sleeping on. Bearing in mind it was only a 90 minute journey I considered it strange that there was the need to provide such extensive sleeping facilities. The trip across was unremarkable and uneventful. Currently there is a haze which means the island of Negros and the Kanlaon volcano are no longer visible from Toledo, so as Toledo disappeared into the haze, San Carlos began to appear, although such is the density of the haze (gawd blimey gov, a right pea-souper, ain't no mistake) that the volcano was no longer visible.

Disembarking was similarly straightforward. San Carlos is a small and relatively unremarkable town but more pleasant and engaging than Toledo. Just off its coastline is the island of Sipaway, which is noted for its white sandy beaches, its good scuba diving and is relatively unspoilt and undeveloped. I made a made a mental note to visit some time soon.

We had breakfast in the Jollibee (the Philippines equivalent of McDonalds) and then headed off for the cross island drive to the town of Bacolod for our next ferry connection.

Rice Terrace

Waterfall

Almost immediately Negros had a different feel to it. On the plains at the foot of the mountains there were fields of sugar cane, which I haven't seen growing anywhere on Cebu. As expected, the drive into the mountains was quite scenic, and even spectacular in places. The sugar cane fields quickly gave way to corn fields and then rice terraces, with the volcano of Kanlaon serving as a back drop, although due to the haze and low clouds the peak was never visible. High mountains, winding roads and deep river valleysmade the 50 mile drive interesting enough and as we weren't pushed for time we were able to stop and take photographs at our leisure. In one location there was an area that looked to be set up as a rest or picnic spot but was in fact a viewing area for a quite impressive waterfall that looked like something from The Land Time Forgot.

As the mountains gave way to the plains surrounding Bacolod there were fields of sugar cane as far as the eye could see. We arrived in Bacalod in the middle of a tropical downpour. This was probably the fringes of the typhoon that was battering Taiwan at this point in time. We had just missed a ferry that was due to depart and, looking at the condition of the sea and the visibility, I was quietly relieved and hoped that in time the weather would settle down.

After a wait of 3 hours for the next ferry the weather did indeed calm down considerably. The crossing from Bacolod to Iloilo was also unremarkable and took around 90 minutes as well.

We arrived at the ferry terminal of Damangas at sunset and as the terminal is quite a distance out of town and the road into the city is severely potholed it takes longer than expected to reach the city centre. By the time we arrived there, it was already dark so we found a budget hotel, had the local speciality La Paz Batchoy for dinner, and then called it a night.

The next day we were up early and went to visit the site. This took a while to locate as the power station is being constructed on the site of some old fish farms and the access roads are not clearly marked. There is quite

some controversy over this power station. Greenpeace has organised several demonstrations in the city and participated in disruptive action to protest what it calls "dirty" coal and the supposed impact on global warming. Personally, I think that for a third world country there are very few other options. Certainly, the ridiculous windmills being constructed in the UK wouldn't work. Nuclear isn't an option. Expanding the present facility, which is diesel fired, is surely more harmful and certainly more costly than the coal option so I'm not sure what the other alternatives are? Candle light perhaps? Besides, apart from the CO2 issue, which may or may not contribute to global warming, coal fired power stations have FGD (flue gas desulphurisation) units which deals with the acid rain issues and the discharge from the chimneys is barely visible. I remember working in Gravesend in 1984 and seeing the huge black cloud belched out by the chimneys on Tilbury power station across the Thames at times of peak electrical demand. Nowadays, you wouldn't even know the plant was operational so there have been significant improvements since then.

There wasn't much to see at the site as the construction work had only just started on the boiler house and site of the chimney was just a open area of reclaimed land.

After visiting the site and meeting our client we went back to Iloilo City for some exploring. We drove around looking at potential properties for rent, checking out hotels, suppliers and generally just getting a feel for the place. Interestingly enough, and as pointed out by my driver, there are no traffic lights in Iloilo and despite it being a busy and bustling city, the traffic seems to work just fine without them. We also went to have a look at the local golf club and the newly constructed Iloilo airport. Iloilo seemed to be a pleasant enough city with more of a street side cafe and restaurant culture so I reckon I'll be happier in Iloilo than Toledo.

Ferry Cargo

The following day we were up early again and heading to the Damangas ferry terminal at 6:00am to catch the first ferry to Bacalod. This was scheduled to leave at 8:00am but were told on arrival that it had been cancelled and the next ferry would be at 11:00am.

RoRo Ferry

There was little point in going back to the city so we just waited it out on the quayside. When the ferry did arrive there was quite a crowd waiting to board but it appeared that everyone was squeezed on board. There was no seating on the regular decks so I went topside and found a seat under the window of the bridge. Although it wasn't particularly sunny, in fact it was mostly grey and overcast, this didn't stop me from getting a very sunburnt face and arms.

Sunburn

As we had arrived much later in Bacolod (1:00pm) than originally planned we had no time to hang around and so had to head off immediately in order to catch the last ferry to Toledo, and so a rapid cross island dash was necessary in order to make it back to San Carlos by 3:00pm and back to Toledo for 5:50pm.

Bits and Bobs

The weekend in Taiwan was followed by a weekend in Singapore/Johor Bahru. Two weekends in a row in very pleasant and relaxed places makes coming back to Toledo all the harder. It was good to be in the company of friends and colleagues from the MBS project (where I previously worked) and it was relaxing to be in JB.

The night before I left Singapore to return to Cebu ended up as a bit of Guinness binge. Nothing over the top but the conversation was flowing and the beer was going down nicely and we ended up having around 8 pints each. But it was all nice and steady so it's not really fair to call it a binge.

Being in the company of friends and others of my own ilk and nationality reminded me that the lack of meaningful conversation can be one of the most difficult aspects of working oversea, especially if you're the only expat in an environment full of locals. It can heighten the feeling of isolation and remoteness. The ability to share humour and in particular banter is difficult, if not impossible to find in those that speak a foreign tongue. Whilst the locals may speak relatively good English, the conversation is usually functional rather than living, possibly because we don't share the same interests or culture. Attempting humour with those that don't speak your language is risking embarrassment or at worst, offence, so it's best avoided in my experience.

During the early hours of the morning before my flight to Cebu I awoke several times with the sore throat from hell. Was I developing swine 'flu? Where had I caught it from? Was it that little uncontrolled brat in the Cebu departure lounge coughing loudly and openly without making any attempt to cover his mouth? Actually, I call him a brat but he was with his father who made no attempt to control his actions, which to my mind makes his father much worse. I was hoping that my hosts in Singapore that night didn't catch it as well as they were heading to the UK for a family holiday and I don't want to be the one responsible for ruining their trip.

At the airport the sore throat persisted and flu symptoms were developing. Hot sweats, cold sweats, runny nose, sneezes and body aches were present. I'd read over the weekend that Swine Flu usually started with a bad sore throat so I'd convinced myself that I'd picked it up in Singapore, having also read that there had been a number of local fatalities, although the 'flu was a contributing factor to those who were sickly and in ill health already. I'd also read that for healthy people it was usually over in 4 to 5 days so even if I did have it I wasn't particularly concerned.

But what did concern me was the controls in place at airports throughout Asia, checking for those potentially infected. If the heat imaging thermometers at Cebu Airport picked me out as a potential H1N1 grim reaper, what was to become of me? They couldn't send me back to Singapore where I came from as I don't belong there and Singapore was unlikely to accept any 'flu refugees from other countries. I had visions of becoming a persona non grata, destined to be placed in isolation in a sterile plastic bubble in the no-mans'-land between passport control and the flight gate until I was cured.

However, my fears were unfounded. As I walked past the thermal imagers I glanced back at my image and I'm sure I was glowing brighter than everyone else but there was no attempt to stop me. I was also given a health declaration to fill out and sign stating that I was feeling no ill effects. Sore throat was one of the conditions that had to be declared but I convinced myself that they weren't referring to the type of sore throat I had.

This week tropical storm Jolina has been present in the South China Sea. The result has been not one iota of sunshine for over a week, grey skies and copious amounts of rain. This kind of weather makes an already bleak place pretty wretched, especially the site which now resembles the Somme on a bad day.

I've now managed to buy some CDs that I've transferred some music onto so I no longer have to listed to my driver's Blah, Blah, Blah music. However, with this has come another downside. As my driver doesn't know the words to the music now playing he can't sing along so he whistles. His singing wasn't great but his whistling is dire. Firstly, he can only whistle one note, secondly it's at pitch similar to finger nails being dragged down a blackboard and thirdly it's all completely out of time with the music.

It would also appear that he has developed Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, similar to those that can't tread on the crack in the pavement, except my driver can't drive over cat's eyes on the road. This means he veers suddenly when crossing the centre of the road to avoid driving over the cat's eyes. So my journeys these days consist of being thrown violently about from side to side whilst listening to his torturous whistling.

Really, you can't win.

Perks of the Job

There are some benefits to the job I do, even if they are few and far between. As luck would have it, the steel flues for the chimney are being fabricated by a company based in Kaohsiung, Taiwan. This is easily my favourite location and city so the opportunity to be paid to go on a factory visit was perfect.

I first worked in Kaohsiung in 1991 and in the 18 years since then the transformation of the city has been nothing short of very impressive, although there was always plenty of scope for improvement. At the beginning of the nineties Taiwan was one of the leaders of the Asian Tigers with a booming economy and double digit growth but this economical miracle came at a price. Without doubt Taiwan back then was the most polluted, filthy, smelly place I've ever been - the swarms of cockroaches coming out of the street drains at dusk was worthy of a Stephen King novel. There was a million scooters on the road pumping out blue smoke from the 2-stroke engines (not many people were wealthy enough to own cars then); there were factories upon factories churning out cheap goods with the all too familiar "Made in Taiwan" little gold stickers that seemed to be on just about everything you bought 20 years ago; and there was the heavy industries, refineries and steelworks with chimneys pouring out black, acrid smoke. At the refinery where I worked, the minute you excavated a hole in the ground it filled up with a noxious black sludge that had leached into the ground over the years.

But what really exemplified how bad things were was the Love River. The Love River is in the heart of Kaohsiung but back then it hardly lived up to its romantic name for it was little more than an open sewer. It's waters were a forbidding, impenetrable black colour that didn't ripple and dance in the wind but moved in a languid fashion like hot tar. Just crossing the bridge between one side to the other necessitated either holding your breath to avoid breathing in the whiff of raw sewage or to continue breathing and gagging as you made your crossing. What is incredible was that once a year the Dragon Boat Festival was held on the river. However, in order to make this possible the sluice gates to the open sewers draining into the river were closed to give the river a chance to clear itself. The downside to this was that the sewers backed up into the city making the city somewhat less than fragrant.

It's difficult to describe the change as it's not a simple case of "now" and "then" because it 's been a process, rather than a event. However, without a doubt the change has been significant and to the city's credit the Lover River is now clean, full of fish, has river cruises operating on it and the river banks now have parks, walks and coffee shops.

A Clean Lover River

So, what are the other changes that have happened in Kaohsiung? Principally, it has gone from being a dirty,

polluted and chaotic city to one that's clean, organised and pleasant, and as much as I dislike the idea of change I have to admit this is a positive improvement. I think that the reason why this is so positive is because the people haven't changed and it's the people of the city that give it its soul. It's not become a Singapore in that it’s been sanitised and sterilised but it it is just far more pleasant than it used to be.

Kaohsiung's Wide City Roads

Kaohsiung always has had wide streets and boulevards but now they're green and planted. Before, the pavements were in a dire condition but now they're mostly renovated and smooth. Before, it was usually necessary to walk in the road because the footpaths were full of scooters but whilst scooters are still allowed to park on the pavement they are only allowed to do so in allocated areas. Of course, the fact that there are significantly less scooters on the roads now helps but then when you think that all those scooter drivers now drive cars, there isn't a car congestion problem either.

The city also has a brand spanking new underground railway system that runs north to south and east to west, and it's cheap to use too.

Underground Station Concourse

Apart from the underground trains, scooters and cars one incredible change has been the number of cyclists there are now. Eighteen years ago the only cyclist I ever saw was in the refinery where I was working, and that was ridden by a guy who looked a 100 years old and the bike had no tyres. But now there are cyclists everywhere and the side lanes to the main carriageways, that used to be the domain of the scooter, are now increasingly used by the cyclist.

And check this out for a brilliant idea; in strategic locations (i.e. at underground stations, principle junctions, parks, etc.) you will find racks of bicycles that are for use by the public. There is a machine that you swipe your credit card or your travel card, you punch in the number of the bike you want to rent (the only difference I could see was the saddle height) and it is released from its lock. Off you then go cycling where ever you want to and the best bit is you don't even have to return the bike to the same location, you just need to return it to one of the other racks around the city, and your credit card/travel card is charged according to the time you've used the bike for. And again, it's not expensive. What I find so amazing about this, and what it also tells you about the people of Kaohsiung City, is that there doesn't appear to be any vandalism or theft of the bikes. Picture this set up, if you can, in a provincial town in the UK or even in the cities. How long do you think this system would last at chucking out time? Isn't it a fact that the true measure of a civilised society is that a system such as this can exist for the majority and not be deprived of it due to the actions of a criminal

minority.

Bikes for Rent

For the factory visit I was picked up by the owner, Andy to give his English name, in his 20 year old Mercedes 300 SEL. What a wonderful car in pristine condition. The trip took only 30 minutes, with Andy complaining the at the roads were busy due to the World Games. Well if that's busy, give it to me any day. Obviously, Andy has never driven around the South Circular or any of the motorways in the UK.

In the morning we inspected the liners, looked at the fabrication process for the few cans (called cans because the liners are made in sections) that were still being made.

Liner Can Fabrication

Lunch was a leisurely affair at a local restaurant and consisted of noodles, fish, prawns, scallops, cuttlefish and beer. I don't think I've drunk beer at lunchtime whilst at work for probably 30 years, back when I was a hod carrier working in a women's prison. It was a nice touch and again rather than refuse and succumb to the mindset and constraints of the health and safety brigade it was liberating to be able to enjoy two bottles of the local brew - after all, it was only two bottles.

Trial Fitting of the Cans

Back at the factory we talked about previous project and I was keenly interested in his company's heavy lifting capabilities, and Andy was enthusiastically happy to show me around their stock of jacks and equipment and to tell me the stories of their research and development programme, showing me the early prototypes. Later that afternoon we did a trial fitting of the liner to demonstrate that there would be no problem joining the sections, which are bolted together.

Once back at the hotel I had arranged to meet a once colleague and now good friend of mine, Dave, who originally went to Taiwan in 1989 and had married a Taiwanese girl and stayed there ever since. We met in a bar on the Wu Fu 4th Road, which is famous for what was once its vast selection of bars but which now seems somewhat depleted. I'm not sure whether this was as a result of the downturn in the global economy. I was told by several people that Taiwan was suffering more than it had in the past - it certainly didn't seem to be impacted significantly during the Asian crisis of 1997.

After a few pints in Jasmines Bar (an old time favourite) we went to Stormy Weather , then The Oxford and finally into Bloody Mary's, which Dave told me he was the owner of. It was good to see some familiar faces and as usual, the welcome was warm and friendly.

Temple Roof

The following day I went out walking and taking photographs and as is usual at this time of the year it was swelteringly hot. To be honest, I think that Kaohsiung is a architectural disaster. Whilst it does have some outstanding buildings, it predominantly consists of concrete and tiled shop/town houses that are a hotch-potch of design and additions. However, along just about every street there is at least one, if not more incredible Chinese temple of the traditional design.

Kaohsiung City

I headed up to Long Life Mountain where you can grab an impressive view of the whole of the city. In the distance the surrounding mountains could be seen. During my first visit to Taiwan it must have been least 6 months before I realised that the city was surrounded by mountains and even in the year I was in Kaohsiung I only ever saw them twice due to the high levels of smog and pollution. I think that it was a really positive indicator that the clean up was well underway way - or perhaps I was just lucky to be there on the right day? I then walked down Long Life Mountain, through the university to Hsitzuwan Beach, where the beach volley ball tournament of the World Games was underway.

I then proceeded to walk along the harbour, watching the heavy seas break over the harbour wall, and up to the old British Consulate building overlooking the harbour. I was disappointed to see that my favourite restaurant had gone. It wasn't that it served particularly good food (bad food is hard to come by anyway) it was brilliant due to its location - right at the narrow straits that is the entrance to what is reputed to be the fourth busiest harbour in the world. From here, over plates of fried rice and fresh sea food you could watch phenomenally large container ships glide past that seemed to be so close you felt as though you could reach out and touch them. You would have to be brain-dead not to be in awe at the sight and size of these ships.

I was exhausted when I eventually made it back to the hotel, only to receive a call from Dave telling me I was invited out to dinner that evening with him and his wonderful wife, Amy. Dinner was in a area that I once knew but now did not recognise, called Tzoying. Eighteen years ago there was a dozen buildings surrounded by rice paddies and vegetable fields. Now it is a heaving metropolis that is even busier than down-town Kaohsiung. The restaurant was an all-you-can-eat buffet with free flow beer, wine, Saki, cognac and juice. Like the trust shown with the bicycles, you didn't have to wait for the restaurant staff to come and fill your glass, you just went and helped yourself at the beer pump or the wine bottles or the Saki and no one seemed to be eating or drinking to excess. Apart from a table of eastern Europeans who, with insane grins and bad pony tails repeatedly went up and filled the largest glasses they could find with cognac and made numerous trips with Saki bottles wedged between every available finger on their hands.

After dinner it was back to Bloody Mary's for a night cap.

Sunday was a day of more walking, shopping and taking a ride on the underground. Later that evening I went to the night market but there wasn't too much happening (probably too early) and so decided to walk back to Bloody Mary's to meet Dave for a farewell beer. On the way it sounded like a coup was going on and as I approached the city centre I chanced upon a Chinese festival with parades, marches and of course, lots of fireworks. Fireworks as we know them in the west are not the same in Taiwan. In places like Hong Kong and Singapore they have been banned and criminalised but in Taiwan, I'm pleased to say, that it's on ongoing tradition.

The firecrackers, which are ear-splittingly loud, are strung out in the middle of the road and at the end of them there is a pile of pyrotechnics containing enough gunpowder to keep Guy Fawkes more than happy. The result of what appears to be an impromptu firework display is traffic chaos but I didn't see anyone who was angry or looked inconvenienced and most were happy to stop and watch. The first display I saw was almost over by the time I arrived but the second firework display I saw took place in the Kaohsiung equivalent of Piccadilly Circus.

Street Fireworks

The procession, which had started from a temple just around the corner stopped at the firecrackers and waited for all the other participants to catch up. There were no barriers to keep people back, there were no bossy marshalls, there were no giant LCD screens instead of the real thing, no health & safety posters and no "light the blue touch paper and stand well back", just an orderly and polite crowd that were just as keen to look at the photos I was taking as well as watching the impressive display. Firstly the firecrackers were set off and then a main display started. And what a display! Made all the more exciting by being in such close proximity as you could physically feel the bangs and booms of the exploding rockets, smell the gunpowder and smoke and was showered upon by the falling ash.

By the time I reached the bridge over the Love River a second and equally impressive display had started and so I paused here to watch again. A video of the fireworks can be seen by clicking here.

The evening, and indeed my stay in Kaohsiung was concluded with several pints with Dave in Bloody Mary's as I had to fly back to Cebu the following day. As always, I was very sad to be leaving.

Topping Out

This weekend we had our topping-out party to celebrate the completion of the construction of the chimney to the full height. That statement isn't entirely accurate as the full height of the chimney isn't reached until the flues are installed, which then project another 3m above the concrete, taking the stack to the full 100m height. But let's not get bogged down in detail.

Topping out parties are a time honoured tradition and it's a way of rewarding the work force with drinks and a meal for their efforts. On this occasion, being somewhat unfamiliar with the Philippines, I allowed our local staff to largely organise the event.

Mmmmm, Roast Pig

A venue was selected that was near to the sea (almost in it!) in a open timber barn with a palm leaf roof and a buffet menu was drawn up. Added to the buffet was two roast pigs, or Lechon as they are called here. These seem to be very popular and are widely available where ever you go. Beer was to be brought in from outside so a mix of the local brews was arranged. A request was made for "liquor" - the potent local rum called Tanduay - which I initially hesitated at as I had concerns that it would lead to "binge drinking", which would then lead to things getting somewhat out of hand but nevertheless I agreed to it. My reasoning being that it was their party and you have to give people responsibilities for them to act responsibly.

A harder decision by far was the request to have a karaoke machine at the event. To say I'm not a fan of karaoke is an understatement but again I capitulated as it's what the locals like. In fact it's not what they like, it's what they love. And it is everywhere. Karaoke in this part of the world isn't anything like karaoke is in the west: the whole ethos is completely different and it is acceptable as drinking warm beer in an English pub.

This can be best explained by something that I witnessed in Taiwan a few years ago. I was walking through a small park in the centre of large city. The park was right in the city centre and so was used as a short cut by workers to offices and shops. As I was passing through I saw a small van pull up with a fold-down side that resembled a hot-dog or burger van that you see in the UK. Intrigued, I stopped to see what was going on and watched as the driver jumped out and proceeded to drop the flap on the side of the van, revealing a large TV screen. Two microphones were produced and plugged in and a large book with laminated pages was plonked on the counter. No sooner had the setting up been completed a passerby in business clothes and a brief case changed direction and headed to the van. There was a brief conversation, a flick through the laminated book and some cash was handed over to the van's owner in exchange for a mic. The guy then proceeded to sing his heart out. In broad daylight. In the middle of a public park in the middle of the city. And not one person batted an eyelid. Once the guy had finished his song he picked up his bag and went to work.

I stayed and watched this for a bit longer and it wasn't a one off. Individuals would come and go and sing a song in the park. No one stopped to laugh and mock and in fact a few people stopped to watch appreciatively.

When I asked about this I was told that the Chinese believe that singing is relaxing; therapeutic; good for the soul. And it's the same here. Every bar, every restaurant has a karaoke machine and it doesn't matter how bad a singer you are (even as bad as me), no one complains, no one criticises and at the end of your performance, assuming there is a crowd, everyone gets a polite round of applause.

Fun For All

The party was set for Sunday afternoon at 3:00pm. Of course, I was bang on time but our buyer who was organising the beer didn't organise it until it was too late and it arrived at around 4:00pm and warm. To me this was a disaster. What were we all going to do whilst the beer was being chilled? Make polite conversation? Small talk? Luckily, the karaoke machine turned up on time and that saved the day. No sooner was it set up than the workers were warbling away at full volume making any conversation, polite or otherwise, impossible. In fact, no one seemed to be bothered or interested in the booze except me and my Irish colleague.

The roast pigs then turned up, the beer was nicely chilled and the buffet was served following prayers and an opening speech from yours truly, and I have to say what a fine spread of food it was. There then followed a drinking competition whereby 5 nominees had to drink a litre bottle of San Miguel as fast as possible. The competition was won by one of our Thai workers, which was amazing as he seemed to spend the first minute sizing up the bottle and the competition before actually starting to drink. Unlike the others, who ploughed into the beer as fast as possible, the Thai worker went at it methodically, like he was having a Sunday lunchtime pint with his mates. This is very typical of the character and approach of the Thai workers. They are never going to tear into a job, guns blazing, but do so quietly and methodically and get on with the task in hand and produce results.

The next competition was a singing one (what else?) and despite the sudden high winds and torrential rain everyone stayed with it until the rain had stopped and we had decided upon a winner.

By around 8:00pm all the food and beer was gone and so I called it a night and left our workers singing away into the night.

Inequities

In the restaurant where I sometimes eat there are several waitresses who generally outnumber the customers. The reason for this excess of staff is probably related to the affordability of the salary they are paid. For a 12 hour shift the wage is Php60. That's not per hour, that's per 12 hour shift.

At today's exchange rates that is the equivalent of 76p. Per 12 hour shift.

When asked why they bother to work for so little, the answer is they have nothing else to do, except sit in the house and do chores. Besides, there is no dole or social security or any other state handouts here.

But here's what I find not so much surprising but revealing is you'd think that working for that amount of money and living in such abject poverty, with very, very little prospects they would be feeling somewhat wretched and miserable. But they're not. They are some of the happiest, cheerful people I have ever met.

One of the girls left home when she was 15. Not because she wanted to but because her father could not longer support her and the rest of her family, so with her younger sister they left home to find a way for themselves without being a burden on the rest of her family. And yet every time I see her she is laughing, joking and smiling. We've a great deal to learn in the West about contentment.

And consider this: the daily rate for our general workers on site is Php250. That's £3.18 for an 8 hour shift. But a pizza from Pizza Hut costs Php650. How can it be that a pizza can cost the equivalent of over two and half times an worker's daily wage? How can that be right?