Mixing Business with Pleasure - Part I

July 2010

The project in Bataan is now looking like a distinct possibility so I decided that a trip to the project location was a good idea in order to gauge the lie of the land and see what the place had to offer.

Bataan (Wikipedia Bataan) is just across the bay from Manila on the Bataan Peninsula and is perhaps more well known through the notoriety of the Bataan Death March, in which American and allied Asian troops, captured by the Japanese, were forced marched over 60 miles under brutal conditions to Tarlac in the north.  Of the 72,000 prisoners it is estimated that some 11,000 died en-route, perishing either from starvation, thirst or through sheer brutality at the hands of the Japanese (bataandiary.com).

The trip to Bataan seemed like an ideal opportunity to combine it with a weekend visit the rice terraces of Banaue (pronounced Ban-aw-ee), a place I'd been planning to go and see for several years ever since I first read about it, and which was top of my list of things to-do whilst in the Philippines, if not the world.  Banaue is described in the Philippines as the 8th Wonder of the World and is a World Heritage site, consisting of spectacular rice terraces carved out of the mountainous terrain and fed by an ingenious system of irrigation channels.  They were apparently constructed between some 2000 to 6000 years ago by the Ifugao tribes that inhabit the mountains of Luzon (Wikipedia Banaue)

Banaue is located in the middle of Luzon so on the weekend I flew up to Tuguegarao (probably further north than necessary but it was dictated by flight availability) to meet up with a colleague, Rolly, in his home-town.  He had travelled up the day before in order to pre-arrange transportation, using his own car for the duration of our planned trip.

As we were already in Tuguegarao it was decided to visit the nearby nearby Calleo Caves, which would mean we wouldn't have enough time to make it to Banaue that day, but the caves seemed like a worthwhile thing to do and I didn't know if I'd have to opportunity to visit them sometime in the future.  

Calleo Caves

The caves were reasonably impressive, formed from limestone and which had a chapel situated in one of the larger caves.  It would have been interesting to have seen a service being held there and to hear the cave's acoustics during the hymn singing.  There were plenty of stalactites and stalagmites, albeit somewhat worn and abused in places where they were accessible, and the remnants of a colony of bats (although I guess not as many as there should have been - probably driven away by the hymn singing).  Having said that the caves were reasonably impressive and worth a visit, even if they weren't as impressive as the Gomantong Caves in Sabah, Borneo, but then I doubt that many are.  I'd even say they probably weren't as good as the caves in Bulabog (see Jungle Trekking to the Bat Cave), which were more pristine, if not as big.

Chapel in the Caves

By the time we'd finished at the caves there wasn't enough time to make it over the mountains into Banaue so we headed to Solano to eat and bed down for the night, with the plan being to head off again very early in the morning.  The drive was pleasant enough, if not spectacular, consisting of rice and crop fields in a wide valley with mountain ranges in the distance.  In Solano, after the usual dinner of chicken and rice (I'm now heartily sick of chicken and rice) and after rejecting some abysmal hotels, we found an enormous brand new hotel called the Highland Hotel on the Banaue side of town that was apparently owned by a Brit.  It was odd, built to look like an old style colonial mansion house with a massive lobby and huge central staircase that dominated the entrance.  So much so that the reception area was hidden behind the stairs.  But it was new, clean and cheap at only Php1000 a night, if a little chintzy, so we grabbed a room each managing to avoid the temptations of the nearby nightclub and went to bed early.

Giant People Live Here

On the Way Home from School
Health & Safety UK would have a fright

Up bright and early the following the day and after a rushed cup of coffee we headed off to Banaue.  The road was a steep climb into the mountains and Rolly's rather underpowered Honda struggled somewhat, so much so that I was convinced it was going to overheat or just give up.  But Japanese engineering won the day and we were soon over the peak and heading down again into the valley towards Banaue.

Sunrise on the Way to Banaue

On arrival it was rather disappointing and not the spectacular sight I imagined but it transpired that Banaue is more of a springboard into the surrounding areas where the more impressive terraces can be seen.  The town itself is mess.  I can't think of any other way to describe it.  The way that the buildings have been constructed, some 12 storeys high against the sheer face of the hills is quite impressive but they are ugly structures constructed from brutal, basic reinforced concrete with a perpetual look of an unfinished state about them.  The town definitely needs a makeover.

Banaue Town
Not the prettiest sight

Initially, on arrival we thought it would be a good idea to drive to a place called Batad.  This doesn't appear on any maps but I had learnt about it from one of the group that was on the four-waterfalls tour (Four Waterfalls in One Day) and so was keen to visit the place.  Unfortunately, the road was in such a poor condition that a 4x4 would have been necessary to traverse it so we have to give up fairly quickly and head back to the town.

We decided the best option was to find some accommodation first so we drove around and on the hill leading up from the river to the road out there was a lodge (The Stairway Lodge and Restaurant) that we checked into and had a surprisingly well prepared breakfast.  The rooms looked basic but clean and there was a fantastic view from the window across the valley to the nearby terraces.  The bathroom left a great deal to be desired.  Air conditioning wasn't necessary as the temperatures were pleasantly cool in the high mountain air and we were told (apparently correctly) that there were no mossies.  The floors were constructed from a wonderful dark pine wood as was some of the wall panelling, which gave the place a warm homely feel to it.  It certainly looked better on the inside than the outside.

The Stairway Lodge

Stairway Lodge from the Inside

Whilst checking in we were approached by a local with a wonky eye who was offering us tours.  He tried to insist on speaking to me but I knew that western rates would be much higher than local rates so I kept directing him to Rolly for the negotiations.  After some haggling, verging on bullying, we managed to get the tours at something approaching a reasonable rate and even then it was comparatively expensive when you consider the usual cost of tricycle transportation and our labour rates for our workers, which is the benchmark I use to measure the cost of everything in the Philippines.

Bauaue Kids

The plan was to go to a hot spring for the rest of the day and then to go to Batad the following day when we could make an early start, so we dumped our belongings into our rooms and went back down to reception where there was old Cock-eye and a tricycle with a driver.  Rolly sat on the motorbike saddle behind the driver but because of the side car attachment you can't straddle the saddle but have to sit side on.  I sat in the tricycle carriage with not enough headroom so I was hunched up and our cock-eyed tour guide sat cross-legged precariously on the roof on the tricycle, which is normally reserved for the luggage.

From Left to Right:  Rolly, Wonky-Eye, Trike Driver

We headed off up into the mountains and the road very soon deteriorated into a dreadful state and the ride was torturous as the driver revved and fought with the bike to keep in on course and we bounced around on the bike.  How Cock-eye didn't fall off the roof I shall never know.  The frequent stops to take photographs was a welcome respite from the journey.  However, where ever I wanted to stop the cock-eyed guide always said that there was better view around the corner, although this "better view" never seemed to materialise.

The Road to the Hot Springs

We ended up in a small town where we had to sign a visitors' register and pay an entrance fee of Php20 (30p), which was the same for locals and foreigners alike.  We continued on following the river for some distance along a track through tiny villages.  We eventually stopped and then starting hiking through the terraces along the narrow wall tops that formed the steps.  From a distance they looked quite small but closer up they were, in places, up to 12ft high and a misplaced foot would have meant a nasty tumble.  Had it been the planting season this might not have been so bad and would have ended up in a muddy but soft landing.  However, it was nearer harvesting time so the paddies had dried out so a fall would have more likely ended with some broken bones.  It was interesting to see the local kids who live with this day in, day out, walking along the edges of the terraces carrying out their day to day business.  No busy-body heath and safety here and no one to sue if you didn't mind your step and fell off.

On the Way to the Hot Springs

The hike ended at hot, sulphurous spring where I had a paddle.  It wasn't that hot but then it was being diluted by the freezing, roaring, gushing water from the adjacent river.  I tried to find the source of the spring to see just how hot it was but I couldn't find it.  Rolly was far more adventurous and took a dip in his skiddies in the freezing river.  After a short period of resting and relaxing we were off again and heading back to the tricycle for the crashing and bashing journey back, which I wasn't looking forward to.

Site of the Bogyah Hot Springs

Back at the lodge I had a shower before dinner.  The shower was a strange arrangement with a bulbous head on a pipe sticking out of the wall with a curly wire attached to it as the water heater was contained within the shower head.  To me, this was akin to using a hair dryer in the bath but then perhaps I'm too health and safety conscious.  The switch for heater was also in the bathroom and I was particularly nervous about throwing a breaker switch stood barefoot on a wet floor.  I use the term "heater" quite loosely in this context as it barely heated the water at all.  It did however, take the chill off the freezing water (but only just) which was definitely more welcome than having to shower in the normally icy water.

The Luxurious Shower

That evening we had dinner in the lodge, which was passable but nothing special and failed to live up to the expectations of the breakfast. That night, despite the roar of the river in the valley, I was frequently awoken by barking dogs and the power was off for most of the time, which is a reflection of the dire power shortages there are in the Philippines.  This also leads to the Philippines having probably the most expensive electricity I have ever encountered.  As a result the lodge didn't have any electrical sockets available and if you wanted to charge your phone, laptop or camera battery you had to pay and the staff would take your battery and charger to concealed power socket.  

The next day we were up early and back into the tricycle and heading towards Batad.  This was a different tricycle as Cock-eye told me the one from the day before was in for repairs. Obviously it wasn't used to carrying the bulk of an over-fed, under-exercised westerner.  The road to Batad whilst not great was definitely better than the previous day's journey.  We came to a stop at a junction from where we were to hike from and there was a small hut on the side of the road out of which appeared a tiny, wiry old lady with a wrinkled leathery face.  She chatted to me in remarkably good English and we exchanged pleasantries.  She asked me, in a very kind and sympathetic way, if I'd like to buy one of her handmade woven baskets.  She seemed so nice and I felt somewhat sorry for her being so old and frail that I desperately wanted to buy one, but as I didn't want to lug it around with me to Batad I promised her I'd buy one on my return.

On the Way Up to the Saddle

From the drop-off point we started hiking up a steep track.  Cock-eye pointed to the top of the mountain and told me that's where we were heading, to a point called The Saddle.  I wasn't expecting this.  Although it was quite a hike and pretty steep we made good progress as the route alternated between being a very good paved road to a worn-out-washed-away gravelly track.  At the saddle there was a couple of small shacks selling souvenirs and refreshments and a rather good view point that looked over where we'd just come from, and in the opposite direction, to where we were headed.

Where We'd Just Come From . . . 

. . . Where We Were Going

Having reached the highest point the only way was down.  To begin with there were some concrete steps (414 to be exact) that varied in height from virtually non-existent to, and these were the majority, ridiculously large.  On the way down we passed several locals on their way up carrying impossibly large sacks of rice to take to market, which was a stark reminder of how hard some people's existence is.

The 414 Steps

Once at the bottom of the steps it was a pleasant enough walk through forested areas with glimpses of rice terraces through the trees giving a hint of what was to come.  The final destination was arrived at suddenly and unexpectedly from the forest and turning a corner where you're greeted with the most amazing vista of the spectacular terraces carved out of a mountain side and looking like a amphitheatre of rice.  The way that this view was suddenly presented was similar in a way to visiting Petra, whereby you approach through a narrow canyon and then all of sudden you are presented with a view of the main Treasury structure carved out of rock.  Presentation is everything.

From this position on the hillside we stopped for some light refreshment.  All the time we were being chased by Cock-eye to hurry along as he kept telling us that it was going to rain in the afternoon (not might rain but unequivocally would rain) and he was afraid our access might be blocked by a landslide.  I took this to be him scamming us so he could back early either so he could do the bare minimum to earn his cash or because he wanted to go and spend it all in the pub, so I wilfully resisted any attempts he made to rush us along.

After a short rest we headed off to see the waterfall (hidden by the hills) on the opposite side of the valley.  This involved walking across the terraces where the rice was in varying states of growth and harvest.  The construction of the terraces here were different from those in Banaue in that they were constructed from stones and boulders, some of a tremendous size that we tried speculating how they would have lifted and placed them thousands of years ago when there was no mechanisation.  Maintenance of the terraces is becoming a problem due to the younger people moving to the cities and not wanting to take up the hardship of hill farming.  In several places the terraces had collapsed through landslide and it was apparent that no effort was being made to repair them.  If you want to see this place for yourself then you had better make it sooner rather than later.

View From the Terraces

Halfway across the terraces there was a small timber shelter with an old man inside who looked like he was a hundred years old and was dressed in traditional Ifugao garb.  Clearly too old to work in the fields he made a living out of charging passing tourists to take his photo.  I reckoned he had the most lucrative job in the whole of the valley and his toothless glee and excitement when a large group of Japanese tourists turned up was particularly amusing.

On the far side of the terraces there was house perched on a ridge looking out over the whole scene.  I thought how wonderful and lucky it would be to live there.  The place had an area to rest, serving drinks and snacks but the impression I got from the children that lived there and were manning the refreshments was that they were indifferent to the surrounding view, and probably didn't understand what all the fuss was about.  I guess that a combination of familiarity and living in such harsh and austere conditions makes your primary focus one of purely having enough to eat and drink rather than enjoying the view.

House With a View

From here there was another precipitous track down to the waterfall and whilst it was difficult enough to traverse we noticed that the slopes of the mountain were planted with crops.  Heaven knows how the local farmers are able to keep their footing whilst they are ploughing, tilling, planting and harvesting their crops on such precarious slopes.  The water fall is located at the end of a horseshoe bend in the river that is ominously scarred by a huge landslide that has gouged a chunk out of the mountain out and almost threatened to dam the river.  Similarly, the falls can only be seen once you are almost on top of them and it's an impressive sight, far better than any of those I saw during the Four Waterfalls in One Day trek.  Best of all, it was pristine and spotlessly clean .

The Glorious Waterfall

Wonky-eye didn't extend himself to go down to the falls but Rolly and I did and it was well worth it.   The falls were deafeningly loud and I decided to brave it and go for a swim even though the water was freezing.  However, the most difficult part was the monkey rocks in the river bed - so called because they hurt your feet so much that you hobble, swing your arms and make oooh, oooh, ahhh, ahhh noises like a monkey as you try to walk over them.  It was so painful underfoot that I wasn't able to lower myself in to the freezing water but clumsily fell into it.  But it was wonderfully refreshing after the sweating and exertion of the day's hiking.

Wonky-eye had told us not to spend too long at the pool and was rushing us not to be too late in going back due to the imminent rain, even though at this time there was brilliant sunshine.

Kids at the House With a View

He headed back up to the arrival point and had a late lunch and a short rest before heading back.  By this time Rolly was having problems with his leg and was limping so we made slow progress going back up again.  Around halfway up we could hear singing that grew louder and louder as we drew nearer and it was such a sweet, melodic sound that I was really curious to see where it was coming from.  On a bend on the trail there was a pool a few feet below the track fed by small stream cascading down the mountain, and there were three young girls (I'd estimate them to be 10 ~ 12 years old) collecting water and singing their hearts out with gusto.  They were wonderfully in tune and despite our sudden presence they carried on with their singing which really lifted the heart and spirits to hear such a great sound.  I was absolutely captivated by this and couldn't drag myself away but Cock-eye was insisting that the rains were imminent and so we had to leave.  It was a marvellous sound and scene that will live with me forever.

Harvested Rice

We eventually reached the 414 monster steps and Rolly's leg was giving him so much gyp that he decided to continue to follow the somewhat longer, but not so steep trail whilst I elected to take the steps (still feeling invigorated from the cold dip in the waterfall plunge pool and lifted by the wonderful singing).  Without the burden of a lumber rucksack and feeling fitter than normal the stairs didn't present me with too much of a problem and I was back at The Saddle well ahead of Rolly and Cock-eye and so took some time to relax and enjoy the views.

As soon as Rolly arrived we started off down the mountain again but on this side the skies were ominously dark and threatening - it look like Cock-eye was going to be right.  Around halfway down there were smatterings of a rain shower that came and went and I thought we were going to miss the worst of it.  A jeepney, ridiculously overloaded came past us on its way up the track, with people and luggage hanging off every available inch of it.  Cock-eye told us that we could've taken the jeepney for a bit more money but I was rather glad we walked.

At the bottom of the trail the tricycle was there waiting for us.  Cock-eye was panicking now about the weather and really wanted to get a move on but I'd promised the old lady that I'd buy something from her.  I think Php300 after some protracted haggling for a little wicker pot was a complete rip-off and Rolly and everyone else thought so too, so I tried to justify the expense to myself in that the money had gone to some kind of a good cause.

No sooner we were in the tricycle (I had to share the cab with Cock-eye because he didn't want to sit on the roof and get wet - although judging by the whiff of him a good soaking wouldn't have done him any harm) the heavens just opened in a downpour of biblical proportions.  Luckily for me there was a wafer thin piece of cloth acting as the door to the tricycle's cab with kept me wonderfully dry . . . . not!  Very soon I was totally drenched all down one side whilst Cock-eye was nice and dry sandwiched between me and the bike itself.  I didn't mind the soaking but I was very concerned about my cameras.  The road was very soon completely flooded and totally underwater so the driver couldn't really see where he was going.  At one point he ploughed into a really deep puddle that caused a bow wave of water to flood the cab, soaking Cock-eye in the process.  He was scowling and cursing like a good 'un and I was convinced he was secretly blaming me for delaying our return.

Back in Banaue we came to the bridge over the river and it appeared that there was more water on the bridge than what was under it as it was covered with around 2~3 feet deep with water.  I thought there was no way the trike would make it and I was about to get out and wade through when the driver revved the throttle and just went for it.  It was amazing that he made it across the bridge when the engine, exhaust and most of the rest of the bike was under water, but he cleared the flood to the other side of the bridge (although Cock-eye got another good soaking).  From here it was a short ride up the hill to the lodge and home in time for a very slightly tepid shower (I actually think the rain water was warmer) and something hot to eat.  

I spent the rest of the evening writing up my notes of the day's events before going to bed relatively early to the roaring sound of the now flooded river in the valley below, wondering whether there would be a landslide as a result of all the rain and if I was going to awake floating down the river.

Mango Island

Guimaras is a large island opposite Iloilo famous for its mangoes.  I say large but I don't mean large as in Greenland large, but large in that you need a vehicle to be able to get round it in a day.

I went over to Guimaras last weekend as it's nearby and seemed worthwhile exploring.  The 30 minute crossing on the RoRo ferry was very expensive for the short distance involved and compared to what ferries cost to go to other more distant destinations.  Certainly it's expensive in Philippine terms - around £26 for the return journey.  

Iloilo River Port

Without a vehicle it's ridiculously cheap at only 20p so like so many things in the Philippines, there's no rhyme or reason.

Entrance to the Iloilo River

We had to be up early and down to the docks sharpish as the ferry operates on a first come, first serve basis so we were on the quayside at 6:00am for a ferry departure at 7:30am.

RoRo Ferry Company

The journey takes around 40 minutes, down the Iloilo River and across the straits between the two islands and onto the port, Jordan, on the Guimaras side.

With no plan in mind the plan was to simply drive around and see as much of the island as possible.  The first stop was for my driver to have his breakfast in the nearby market.  I had a wander round and was very quickly approached by a middle aged lady with a bad limp and a crooked mouth and who introduced herself as Gwendolin.  Her first question as I stood on the quayside was could I be her friend.  Guarded and cautious as to where this was going (it usually means handing over money) but not wishing to appear unfriendly, I agreed.  She then launched into her life story, about how she was mugged in Bacolod by a group of six and so badly beaten that she ended up in a coma for 3 months.  This is what gave her the limp and she showed me the scars on her leg.  She then pointed out to me her boyfriend in the crowd on the quayside and said that he had frequently asked her to leave, but she had nowhere to go.  I really don't know why she was telling me all this when I'd only just met her but clearly, and probably from the beating she had had some time ago, she wasn't quite right but I couldn't help feeling sorry for her.

She then asked me to take a photograph of her, and to the jeering and cheering from crowd I obliged, curious as to why someone (and it's not uncommon in the Philippines) would want their photo taken when they'll never see it?

Colourful Jeepneys in Guimaras

One photo wasn't enough and she wanted more.  One by the road sign and another by the jeepney.  At this point I felt as though it was time to get away.  She asked me if I could buy her a coke but I genuinely didn't have any money on me and as I walked back to the car she gripped my arm and as we passed a local fisherman he said something to her, which she translated as "So, you're a tour guide now?"

At the car she said come and visit again and I gave her 15 pesos for her coke, upon which she grabbed me around the neck, pulled me down and gave me a big wet kiss on the cheek - something I'd rather she hadn't done.  

The Island of Panay Seen From Guimaras

We then set off driving around the island.  Surprisingly though, having expected to see plantation upon plantation of mango trees there didn't seem to be very many at all.  We made a visit to the Trappist monastery shop to buy some dried mango products, the best mango jam ever and a powdered ginger which is added to hot water to make drink with.

For lunch we went to Raymen's Beach Resort and it was a stunning little beach with white sands and warm, crystal clear sea.  And the food wasn't bad either.  Not great but then not bad.

That Must Be the Owner's Boat

The rest of the day was spent driving around, taking in the countryside and photographing the sites.

All in all, not a bad way to spend the day, despite the cost of getting there.

Job's Done

The Finished Product

The project was completed at the end of last week and done 11 weeks ahead of programme.  Quite some achievement.  All done and dusted and handed over to the client.  Now it's just a matter of cleaning up and clearing off.  All of our tools and equipment have to be moved off site and placed in storage whilst we wait to see if there are any more contracts coming along.  There's talk of a chimney in Bataan, near Manila, that the company is supposed to be well placed to be awarded.  But it's only a small project and will only last for a few months.

Last weekend I was in Singapore and went to the company's head office at the behest of the directors.  They said they wanted to give me the first chance to go to India to do the projects for them there.  The way they worded it was like it was some fantastic opportunity and they were doing me a favour.  Truth is the place is even more rural and remote than here (there is no electricity - not just that it goes off from time to time) and I don't really fancy spending the next 2 to 3 years washing out of a bucket to the constant hum of generator in the background.  I suppose the food might be a bit better but if there's no electricity, how do you keep food fresh?

No, I think I'll be passing up the opportunity so once again I'm going to find myself changing jobs.

Nowhere to Walk the Dog

These are some photographs I took during the flight from Surigao to Cebu.  The location is somewhere between Lyte and Bohol, where there are numerous atolls and small islands.

Viewed from Afar - And Miles from the Mainland

. . . . Closer . . . 

. . . . and Closer

What I find fascinating about this is there appears to be only the tiniest piece of land, which is totally covered in houses that spill out and are built over the sea.  I can't imagine what it must be like to live in a place like that?  What happens when there's a typhoon?  Where do your kids go to school?  Where do you walk the dog?  Where do you get your drinking water from?  Don't you get sick of eating fish?

Here are some more examples:

Really in the Middle of No Where

. . . . But a Bit More Space

. . . But Not a Lot More

At Least This One Has Some Greenery

Four Waterfalls in One Day

With the end of the project rapidly looming there is the inevitable feeling of not having done enough and seen enough of the Philippines during my time here.  This is a common feeling with all locations I've worked in and is largely true to a varying degree, depending on the relative ease of getting around and what there is to see in any one place.  I suppose at one end of the spectrum there is Iraq or the Falkland Island, with so much to see and explore that I left hoping to go back some day.  At the other end there's Singapore and the Turks & Caicos Island, which whilst very nice and pleasant don't offer the same level of interest or possibilities.

During the dying days of this project I've taken to looking around for places to visit and I spotted an organised tour on the internet being arranged by a group calling themselves Pinoy Mountaineers (Pinoy being an informal term for Filipino people).  The tour was to visit four waterfalls in one day and after the failure to see the waterfall I'd set out to visit near Iloilo (see Water, Water Not Everywhere) I thought this was an ideal opportunity.

So I filled in my on-line application and duly paid the deposit and set about booking a flight to Manila and a hotel for the weekend.  All in all, whilst the tour wasn't expensive, once you added in all the incidental costs it ended up being rather more costly than I'd imagined.  But what are the alternative?  Sit around the house in Iloilo that frequently has no power, sweating profusely and not being able to take a shower because there still isn't any water and listening to the barking dogs?  Hmmmm, not a difficult choice really.

I flew to Manila on the Friday night as the tour was going to start early on Saturday morning (3:30am meet up).  On arrival in Manila the airport was chaos and I had to queue for 45 minutes for an overpriced taxi.  The bidding started at Php800, went to Php550 and ended up as Php350.  The taxi companies all like to attribute this rip off in rates to the traffic (on a meter it's usually around Php150 but that queue was massive) but in the event the drive into Manila was a breeze so I'm glad I didn't pay Php800.  Although what was evident was that those who were prepared to pay the top rate were surreptitiously taken away from the queue and taxis diverted to cater for their needs.  Once again I found myself drawing comparisons with Singapore and the blinding efficiency of the taxi queues at the airport there, which usually means there is no queue at all or it's a moving line of people and not a static queue as such.

I've always stayed at the same hotel in Manila, which is one I lived in for 2 months back in 2008 whilst on a short term work assignment.  However, whilst it is very pleasant and in a good location, over time it has become increasingly more expensive so I wanted to look for an alternative.  Choosing hotels is a task I hate doing and reading through the TripAdvisor web site was no help.  It seems to me that rather than give an honest appraisal the website is predominantly used to air personal grievances.  In the end I opted for the New World Hotel and I have to say it was very, very good.  In the morning it was like waking up in a magical kingdom: no barking dogs, not even any traffic noise; water in all the taps with gushing hot and cold water; electricity the whole time I was there and a bed with the most comfortable mattress (not the thin strip of foam I have to make do with in Iloilo).  It seemed a shame to have to wake up so early rather than spend a leisurely morning in bed.

But up early I was.  Whenever I need to be up early I don't sleep well and wake up every hour, on the hour.  Not only this but I woke up at 2:00am with chronic cramp in my left foot and then my right foot.  It was curious watching the involuntary movement of my toes as they spread and curled in odd directions.  Usually I find standing on a cold, hard floor cures this but no sooner had I gone back to bed it was back again.  It hardly seemed worthwhile going back to bed as it was nearly 2:45am, the time I'd set my (unnecessary) alarm for.

Another rip-off taxi drive to the McDonald's where we were meeting: the excuse this time was the early hour.  On arrival I couldn't see anyone who looked like a trekker so I bought myself a cup of rancid McD's coffee and sat in the corner.  By around 3:45am a couple of likely candidates turned up, then a lad who seemed to be in charge of it all was going around smiling and taking names and giving directions.  Despite my hiking boots and knapsack attire he didn't seem to pick me out as a likely fellow trekker despite being the only foreigner in the whole place.   I can only think that being of such an advanced age was the reason I was overlooked.  

When filling in my application form I had to give my contact number and a number to contact in an emergency (I used the buyer in our office) and apparently they had sent him an SMS, waking him up in the process, to see where the missing member of the group was.  Why they didn't call my number (surely the obvious thing to do?),  I don't know.  So when the buyer sent me an SMS (under the impression I was at a children's party at  McDonald's.  What, at 4:00am in the morning?  Where do these people come from?) I knew I'd either have to identify myself or be left behind so I made my own introductions and so the group, including the old foreigner, piled into a mini-mini bus and headed off.

The driver of the bus drove like he didn't have any passengers in the vehicle. No, that's not correct: he drove like he had utter contempt for the passengers in the vehicle, especially those who were in the very back on opposing bench seats.  The vehicle jerked away from every standstill and braking was done a late as possible so we were constantly thrown backwards and forwards, either crashing into the rear door or into the passengers to my left.  Personally, I wanted to drag him out of the driver's seat of the bus and imprint his face with the shape of the front bumper there and then, but as all of my fellow travellers seem totally unconcerned about his driving I thought it best not to make a fuss.  I tried to take solace in the amazing reds of the sunrise until I realised that the windows of the mini bus were tinted red to the point of being totally opaque and so it was akin to being transported around in a police van (how would I know?  I can only imagine).  This was disappointing because there was to be some fantastic scenery along the way and a clear view would have been good.  It would have been even better to have stopped occasionally to take some snaps.

Once off the highway the maniacal driving continued but now, as an added measure, not only were we being thrown backwards and forwards but on the winding country roads it was from side to side as well.  In rural Philippines, for some reason the houses are built right up the road's edge, which leaves no footpath for people to walk on or for children to play.  People step out of their front door into the road.  As if this isn't bad enough they all do it with and air of recklessness the defies belief.  Sounding your horn elicits no response or flicker of acknowledgement that you are there and about to run them over.  Not a blink.  And with people walking on both sides of the road, this only leaves enough room for a single vehicle to pass when it's crowded.  Chaos.

The Waterfall Trekking Crew

By 7:00am and feeling considerably shaken and not a little stirred we arrived at the first waterfall, with myself thinking that if the driver stands next to a cliff . . . .

Relaxing in the Pool

The falls were pleasant enough and we were the first people to arrive.  Some of the group went for a swim in the pool but I declined the offer upon seeing all the rubbish floating in it and all the discarded bottles strewn about the place.  Thunderboxes placed over the river just downstream did nothing to ally my fears that there were similar arrangements up-stream and thought of swimming in and around the contents of someone's bottom gave me no incentive to take the plunge, so I settled for some exploring around the area and photograph taking.

Waterfall #1 - 2 for the Price of 1
The sign says: 'Standing here is prohibited'.  It's a good job I can read Tagalog.
Perhaps it should say: 'Littering is Prohibited'

In a short while we are back in the bus heading off to waterfall #2.  This one had gentle path to it that had crystal clear water running in a channelled beside it.  However, the falls themselves were mobbed with people.  There were quite a few picnickers and campers.  At the waterfall the pool was full of people . . .  and rubbish.  Dog-ends everywhere, discarded bottles, crisp packets, polystyrene.  I take absolutely no joy in pointing this out but in a place of such natural beauty it is an absolute crime to let it be defaced like this.  I watched a middle aged guy picnicking with his family, wade into a beautiful, crystal clear pool to retrieve a bottle of coke he'd placed there to chill. The bottle of coke was in a white plastic bag and as he picked up the bottle the bag slipped off in the water.  For brief a moment he paused and looked at the bag and I wondered, no, I was willing him to pick it up.  But he didn't, he just turned away and left it suspended in the water. 

Waterfall #2

I see this all the time.  To get to my house in Iloilo I have to cross a bridge over a river and every day I see the river filling with rubbish, which is mostly plastic packaging of some sort.  I find this ironic, in a country so poor and where people can ill afford the basics and yet so much food stuffs and goods have expensive and unnecessary packaging.  The river is essentially used as a waste disposal facility and it makes my stomach turn to see fishermen with nets wading through the waters.  Heaven knows where the fish end up for sale?  Fine I think, if people want to live in filth then that's up to them.  But think about it: the river is just a giant flushing toilet with all the rubbish being carried out to sea by the tides or rains and I find it depressing to think of all that trash being circulated around the world by the ocean's currents.

At the waterfall the pool was also full of shrieking women.  I don't want to put the mockers on people having a good time but this just went on and on and on. Ear splittingly loud.  So much for peace and tranquillity.   Sad to say it was a relief when we decided to leave, even if it was back into the bumper car bus ride.  By now I was starting to feel like a Japanese tourist.  On the bus.  Off the bus.  Take a photo.  Back on the bus. Off the bus. Take a photo.

Next stop was an "exotik" food restaurant so lunch consisted of stingray, crocodile, snake and vegetables.  Although I have to say there was nothing very exotic about the veggies.  

A Place to Eat

When I was asked by the waiter what I wanted I said the crocodile but make it snappy.  Asked if I wanted snake I said no because it looks like a load of cobras.

Ok, ok, enough of bad the jokes.

The crocodile was sold as being low in calories and healthy.  Based on what I ate it has to be as it was mostly bones.  The snake was actually quite tasty and yes, it did taste like chicken.

Mmmm - Lunch
Snake at the top, crocodile to the left,
stingray bottom left, veggies bottom right

After lunch it was back on the mini-mini bus and onto the next waterfall.  This was probably the most scenic of them all but again let down by the amount of rubbish.  And we had to pay to visit go in.  No big deal but you'd think the money would be used to keep the place clean.  We didn't hang around here for too long before heading off to the last and remaining waterfall of the tour.  

Waterfall #3
The sign top right says: 'Climbing the rocks is prohibited'!

Fortunately no bus ride was necessary and it was a short hike away.  When we arrived there we were told to surrender our cameras.  How come?  "Professional" cameras were not permitted.  Whilst I was flattered that my Lumix FZ18 might be considered as professional I was still somewhat peeved that I had to give it up.  Not to worry, as I had concealed in my knapsack my Bronica ETRSi, which is definitely more of a professional camera.  This place must be something special I thought.  But no, it was probably the least impressive of them all (although equally covered in litter) so I'm absolutely clueless as to why there was a camera ban.  Asking around the locals no one else seemed to have an idea either.  Probably one of those arbitrary rules that are so common here.  When I pulled out the Bronica, much to the panic of the organiser, I couldn't find anything worthwhile or inspiring to photograph.

Waterfall #4
No 'professional' photos allowed.  No danger of that.

By now I was somewhat bored with waterfalls so I wandered off on my own to explore.  Heading back towards the mini bus I found a shop so bought some water and a couple of beers and got chatting to some of the locals.  I wanted to ask them about all the rubbish but I felt sure it was going to be met with the same response as when I asked about all the barking dogs in Iloilo:  what barking dogs?

At nightfall we were all back on the bus for the return dash to Manila.  Back at the hotel by around 9:00pm I was in no mood to go out but just to have a relaxing night in in relative luxury.  Which was just as well as the hotel laundry had lost the only trousers I had with me.