Tazer the Dogs

I now have a secret weapon to use against the yelping dogs - the Dazer II Ultrasonic Dog Deterrent - lent to me by a New Yorker who lives on the end of my street.

The dogs must already know about it because they are staying schtum.

I only wish I had an Irresponsible Dog Owner Dazer.  Now that would be even better.

Unfortunately, my neighbours have a Foreigner Pissed Off With My Barking Dogs Dazer: it's called a hand gun.

Ranting Catch Up

Since my mate Luis left the Philippines I haven't really been up to much - well nothing of much interest other than work, which is a continual grind because those sitting in the circle continue to piss on us in the stalls.

It's been raining rather a great deal of late.  A couple of weeks ago it just lashed down with rain continuously for a week.  And I'm not exaggerating.  It was getting to the point whereby if the rain didn't let up I was going to start building an ark.

Of course, the rain has stopped all work on site and put us back a week.  This wouldn't have mattered one iota if those hob-nobbing in the stalls had paid attention to the fact that the show can't start until all the props are on stage.  But no, they send them on at the last minute and then crib if there's a delay.  To be honest, I'm sick of this never ending merry-go-round of me telling them what needs to be done and them not listening.  It's like being stood in the middle of railway track, seeing a train coming and not being allowed to step out of the way.

Similarly, this is our third contract with this client who simply refuse to install the roads or the drainage until the end of the project, when this is the first thing they should do.  Hence, they end up with a shiny new power station in a sea of mud half the time and we end up working in a big puddle.

And don't get me started on the local red tape and bureaucracy. The people I did the dive course with have been stopped from operating.  Jealous competition, petty red tape, endless hoops to jump through and as many obstacles that a stifling and ruthlessly inefficient civil service can put in the way of private enterprise and which has one aim and one aim alone: to create a hugely complex system that can only be bypassed through the generation of unaccounted income.

Not that there's much diving to be had in Subic Bay at present. What with the rain, the flood water has flushed all the rubbish and detritus out of the rivers and water courses that are generally used for rubbish disposal, and deposited it all in the bay.  Combined with a total lack of erosion control on farms and moreover construction sites, vast quantities of silt are washed down the rivers to be dumped in the seas.  Hence, Subic Bay is now a muddy brown. Still, once it and all the rubbish settles to the bottom of the ocean it'll be forgotten about.  That is until it blankets and kills the corals and turtles and sea birds wash up dead on the shores from eating plastic bags and the tourism trades dies along with it.  Perhaps I shouldn't go on like this but it is a crying shame.

Speaking of turtles, there is a turtle sanctuary down the coast from Subic and I popped in to have a look.  Not much going on as I was told it wasn't turtle egg laying season on the adjacent beach.  They did have three turtles in a turtle shaped pond no bigger than a kiddies paddling pool.  Pretty depressing actually.  The Hawksbill had a hunchback and couldn't balance itself properly in the water. There was what I was told to be a grey turtle but the nearest match I could find on the internet that looked like what I saw is an Olive Ridley turtle.  This one, so I was told, couldn't swim underwater (??) and so was left in the pitiful pool trapped in the flipper of the pond layout, constantly bashing into the end of it.  The third turtle in the pond was a green turtle that had the most amazing markings on it's head.  He (she?) seemed to be the only one that was normal.

Despite it being turtle off-season and there being nothing to see or do other than feel sorry for the captive turtles in a puddle, I was asked to pay the entrance fee, which the guy took and put straight in his pocket.  I mean, no shame, no embarrassment, just straight in his pocket.  Now you could argue that he was going to put the money in the cash box later but I'd argue that he wasn't.

My immigration visa has expired.  It's not just a simple case renewing it: oh no, that would be too easy.  In fact it expired several weeks ago but due to the painfully slow processing of any document by government agencies our lawyers have had to apply for extension letters whilst the visa is being prepared (prepared = sitting on someone's desk in the hope that it generates some "unaccounted income").  To make matters worse, I had to go for the same interview I had two years ago with the man with a beach ball up his shirt (see the second half of Everyone & Their Mum Is Packing).  I hate these interviews.  They're so pointless.  I hate being asked why I'm working in the Philippines when there's 10 million Filipinos (that number isn't an exaggeration) working in other countries around the world, with a fair few in the nursing profession in the UK alone.  If it wasn't so crummy working in the Philippines, earning next to nothing and being taxed to death then perhaps most of their skilled workers wouldn't leave to go and work overseas and cause a brain-drain on the Filipino economy.  There's an awful lot to put right.  

But what am I saying?  There's just as much that needs putting right in the UK unfortunately.  I suppose that should be my response to the interviewer: I'm working in the Philippines because I don't want to have to go home to work in another bankrupt, corrupt, third world country.

It's not all bad news.  At least the yelping dogs seems to have settled down and been quieter.  I've also noticed that they've started taking them for walks so that's probably gone a long way in getting them to relax rather than just leaving it locked up in a tiny cage 24/7.   There was a huge furore in the UK press over a Filipino who had pegged his puppy dog on the washing line. I actually thought it was quite funny and when seen in the light of how most dogs are kept in tiny cages here, it wasn't particularly cruel at all. There are far bigger issues at stake.

I had another trip to Singapore.  All rather routine and hugely expensive.  But not withstanding the exorbitant cost of the place, it's so good to go somewhere that works.  I mean really, super-efficiently works.  It sets the standard that other countries can rarely match.

Luis' Final Weekend

It's always a problem knowing what to do to entertain visitors.  Trying to work out what they do and don't like is quite difficult but having returned from Donsol I had a bit of time to mull it over whilst Luis recovered from his bout of dysentery.  Actually, after a trip to the local clinic and a very public examination in the waiting room, he was told his illness was largely attributable to the drugs he was taking for another stomach ailment that increased his susceptibility to stomach infection.

We had two options to chose from for Luis' last weekend: a hike up the volcano, Mt. Pinatubo, or a visit to the Banaue rice terraces, which I had visited last July.  On one hand I was keen to do the Pinatubo trip as it's on my list of things to do whilst in the Philippines but then I was also keen to revisit Banaue and spend a bit more time there.

We eventually settled on the trip to Banaue and so set off early morning.  It took longer than expected to get there, largely due to underestimating the distance but also because of holiday traffic.  

Entertainment en-route to Banaue

The intention was to go directly to Batad but due to our late arrival, we decided to spend the remainder of the day in Banaue and make an early start to Batad the following day, and so checked into the Stairway Lodge where I stayed a year ago.  This gave us the opportunity to explore the nearby terraces (via a very bouncy, wobbly suspension foot bridge) that were within walking distance, so off we set.  Not as impressive as those at Batad but it's always interesting, if not somewhat dangerous walking along the narrow edges of the terraces with the huge drop on one side and a wet muddy puddle on the other.  I know which I prefer.

Wobbly bridge

Back a bit . . . . 

Whilst walking around the terraces we met with plenty of very friendly locals.  There's something about being out of the cities and living the rural life that definitely makes people friendlier, happier and more welcoming.

Happy kids

Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work we go

That evening we had a wander around Banaue town. Village more like.  It was dead.  We were told that for the previous 3 days there had been a huge festival of local music, cultural dancing, beauty contests and competitions, including catching the greasy pig.  Now that I would have like to have seen.  Apparently, we were told that the first pig they greased up put up no resistance to be captured.  So another "volunteer" was found.  However, this one was the complete opposite and escaped down and alleyway, never to be seen again.  It would have been good to see the festival but never mind, there's always next year.  Oh no there isn't.  We were told it was a once every 3 year event.  Better pencil that into my diary then.

Banaue town

The follow day, after an early night due to nothing very much to do, we made an early start and headed out to Batad.  You can only drive so far before before you have to start hiking.  Last year we didn't have a 4x4 vehicle so did considerably more walking, but this time we had an SUV that could take us to the ridge known as The Saddle.  From here, after politely refusing the assistance of impromptu guides offering their services, we set off heading down the massive staircase and down the mountain into Batad.

On the way down to Batad

I love this place.  The serenity, the cool mountain air, the wonderful people and the staggering views.  Having to hike in and not being able to drive in makes it all the more to be appreciated, like something you work for is always better than getting something for nothing.  We selected a lodge at the top of the valley with a commanding view of the rice amphitheatre. After dumping our bags we had the weirdest local coffee that had the look and texture of muddy water but which was surprisingly tasty.  On looks alone no one would chose to drink it.  It certainly wouldn't be a big seller in your local Starbucks.

View from the terrace of the lodge

I accepted a local guide's offer to show us the route to the waterfall, more out of wanting to support the local economy rather than need as I was familiar with the route from the last time I visited.  The hike is pretty tough despite it being mostly downhill to the waterfall and the heat was a real killer.  At the falls we had a swim in the chilly waters at the base with the thundering noise of the water and the fine spray and mist to keep us cool.  It was a very welcome relief from the heat of the trek.  Although it was short lived as on the way out it was a steep, sweaty climb back to the lodge.  We did consider going right up to the top of the terraces, quite a stiff climb in itself but decided against it principally on the basis of we were both lacking protection from the sun and were burning up.

Batad water fall

I'd charged my digital camera the night before in Banaue but in the morning found out that it had hardly charged at all. Initially I thought it was the fault of the lodge but then discovered it was a problem with a faulty mains lead for the charger.  This was a mix of good and bad news. The bad news was I had no digital camera and no HD video.  The good news is that this forced me to use my fully mechanical Pentax 6x7 camera.  The bad news is for you who are familiar with the 6x7 it's a bit of lump to be lugging around on hike through the mountains.  Having said that I thought the results from the camera made it very worthwhile, even if there are only 12 frames to a film.

We were told in Batad by one of the guides that a Korean woman had fallen off a high terrace and suffered severe head injuries (some of the terraces must be 9 ft high).  There are no roads in or out and I can't see there being an air ambulance available so I've no idea how they got her to hospital. We'd been told that she was looking though her camera rather than were she was going.  Really not recommended when walking along the edge of a 9 ft drop.  The danger is that in order to protect the stupid tourists from themselves, in future there may be designated walking paths or handrails installed which would completely distract from the authenticity of the place with the location taking on a Disney like theme park feel. Although I can't see that happening any time soon. Besides, the locals and their tiny kids don't seem to have a problem. 

Back at the lodge we had a late lunch, Luis had more muddy coffee whilst I had a few beers.  We spent our time entertaining the enchanting kids living there.  No Gameboy or Playstation for them.  They were thrilled with paper planes, origami jumping frogs and simple tricks. Like I've said so many time before, it seems to be that kids that have the least are always the happiest.  Similarly, kid that have nothing tend to play and share with each other rather than playing in isolation and being possessive.

Start playing young

Charming and well mannered kids

We stayed over night at the lodge, which was around £3 a night but we'd spent a small fortune on food, drinks.

The next day we were up before sunrise to go out and take in the early morning views.  We'd arranged for the guide to take us out but he was late so we started off making our own way.  A short while later he caught up with us looking somewhat dishevelled and it was my reckoning that he'd gone out and got himself drunk on the proceeds of his earnings the day before.

Walking around in the cool morning air is far more pleasant than the heat of the day.  Back at the lodge we had huge breakfast before hiking back up to the saddle and back into the car for the long drive back to Subic.

On the way back, Luis does, what Luis does best!

Risks of Working in the Third World

I must share this with you.  It is truly shocking and gives a valuable insight into the terrible damage and impact corruption can have on just your average person.

Alfred Lehnert - English Language from FAC Philippines on Vimeo.

This problem is compounded by the fact that almost all Filipinos believe that westerners are fabulously wealthy and that finding US$250,000 to be released from jail is just small change.

Corruption doesn't just happen at a high level with big business.  It impacts everyone.

Dog Day Afternoon

The problem of the yelping dogs just won't go away.  They were excelling themselves one Saturday afternoon and I quite liked the idea of sitting outside in peace and quiet.  But no.  Yap, yap, yap.  Yelp, yelp, yelp.  Non stop.

So, in a measure of desperation brought about by the ineffective police to enforce the local by-laws (this isn't just a whim or a wish on my part, barking/nuisance dogs are not permitted by the Subic Bay Metopolitan Authority), and assuming the dogs were not being attended to (otherwise, surely, someone would attempt to shut them up) I grabbed a handful of gravel and lobbed it at the cage.  It was a good shot for such a small cage (small even to hold two very small dogs.  The effect was instant, if not lasting, and it shocked the dogs into silence.

Fifteen minutes later they were at it again so I repeated the process and they seemed to shut up for good.

Thirty minutes later the door bell went.  I opened and there was a police officer stood there and he said that they'd received a complaint that I'd been throwing stones at the neighbours dogs.  Me?  Why would I do that?  After all, I explained, I'd complained about the dogs several times, as had the neighbours on the opposite side, and knowing that the SBMA police wouldn't tolerate persistent infringement of the rules, the barking would have ceased and I'd have no need to throw stones at the neighbour's dogs.  My neighbour must be mistaken, I told him, it can't possibly have been me.

This threw him sideways a bit.  He told me that sometimes the dogs bark when a cat walks in front of them.  I said by that reasoning the cats must be doing an Irish jig in front of the dogs and then pull up a deck chair to read War & Peace.  This totally flummoxed him and off he wandered.

That night, three shots were let off from a gun from what sounded to be from under my bedroom window it was so loud.  Probably a sinister warning from my neighbour to back-off.  Apparently, it's a usual tactic here in the Philippines I've been told.

In the morning we reported the incident to the SBMA police.  They said they were going to investigate the matter.  Did they investigate it?  Did they (inset expletive here).

Having a Whale of a Time - Final Day (or so we thought)

Day 3 was another day of whale shark spotting.  

At breakfast we noted an old chap that was seated at the breakfast bar and who had been there every day for breakfast.  Obviously he was someone of some influence judging by the reverence he was treated with by the resort staff.  When he stood up to leave we noticed (you couldn't miss it) that he had what looked like a chrome plated 44 magnum of Dirty Harry fame ("Go ahead punk, make my day") strapped to a holster on his belt.  We found out later that this was the mayor of Donsol and his sister owned the resort (of course she did). I think this speaks volumes about the Philippines that the mayor feels it necessary to wander around with such a large and conspicuous weapon openly on display.  It doesn't do much to inspire or comfort the foreign tourists, I think.

I know what you're thinking. "Did he fire six shots or only five?"

We were sharing the boat this time with a Scandinavian couple, which was better then sharing with the loud-mouth chavs that were on one of the other boats.  It was touch and go on the boat because at this point in time Luis had developed a severe case of diahorea and was in danger leaving his own brown slick in the water.

All aboard

Same as before we spotted plenty of whale sharks.  It's always easier when you know the form and what to expect. My only regret is that I didn't buy a waterproof case for my digital camera that has HD video.

The whale shark spotting was over just after lunch so we spent the rest of the afternoon taking it easy, with me drinking beer in the bar and looking for some photo inspiration, whilst Luis went to the beach to practice his tupperwareah (whatever that is? Some Brazilian physical jerks, I think).

That evening we thought we'd venture into Donsol town to what entertainment it had to offer and to this end rented a trike and driver the for evening.  The first place we went to, a bamboo shack over a stinking river bed, was meant to have a live band but could only offer deafening karaoke.  I hate karaoke.

The next place we went to was even worse.  Much worse.  We managed to hang it out for a couple of drinks but no more and so headed back to the resort.

Earlier in the day I'd asked the tour reps in the dive shop if it was possible to head back to Legazpi very early the next day so that we could spend some time exploring Mt. Mayon.  They said they'd check it out and get back to me to let me know if it would be possible but they never did, and so we worked on the basis that we'd be leaving at a regular time.  

Early morning on the day of our flight out of Legaspi the driver was already at the resort waiting for us.  He'd been there since 4:00am for the early start that we hadn't been told about. Nevertheless, we were able to get away earlier than expected and hoped to visit the church ruins at Cagsawa.

We'd had a fantastic time in Donsol and the Vitton Beach Resort.  Easy going and wonderful staff that were always happy and cheerful, despite having to work from 5:00am to 10:00pm seven days a week for really not very much money.  When asked why they did it, invariably the response was a resigned "What else is there to do?"

So if you ever find yourself heading to Donsol to watch the whale sharks I can thoroughly recommend the tour company that made all the arrangements on my behalf and who made a excellent job of it: Donsol Eco Tour

Back in Legazpi we had enough time to visit Cagsawa.  Mt. Mayon was hiding behind cloud so there wasn't much of a photo opportunity and besides, it's a photo taken a million times by others of the buried church with just its steeple showing and the smoking gun of the volcano responsible for burying it in the background.  It was sweltering hot too.

What's left of the church

We left Cagsawa and headed to the airport.  We were one of the first there and checked in and settled down to wait for the flight.  The departure hall soon became packed beyond capacity and was heaving with humanity and was so hot it was like hell's waiting room.  Our plane came.  Parked on the tarmac in front of the terminal, sitting there so tantalisingly close and offering the respite we all craved from the heat.  But our allotted time came and went.  Clearly there was something wrong.  After a couple of hours (God only knows why it took so long for it to be announced) we were told the flight has been cancelled.  Something to do with a missing dust cap on a tyre or something like that.  I mean, the flight had made it in to Legazpi no problem and hadn't landed with its engines on fire, so clearly the problem wasn't that bad.

Unlike everyone else, and despite the heat, I took it all in my stride.  All I wanted to know was what was going to happen, then we could just clear off and do something different and infinitely more interesting. However, it wasn't going to be that easy: it seems that Filipinos do like to make a drama out of minor event, so there was plenty of indignant shouting and arm waving.  We were told, eventually, that we could either take a bus (for bus read tiny mini-van) for the 8 hour journey to Manila or stay overnight in a hotel.  Luis wasn't going to be able to sit on a bus for 8 hours, unless it was fitted with a commode.  And I wasn't exactly enamoured with the idea of sitting with zero leg room for 8 hours on a bus being driven at high speed with a sleepy driver.

So we opted for the hotel.  But no one could tell us where it was or when it would be available and as we'd been sweating it out for close on 6 hours by now we made our own arrangements and headed off back to the Vista Al Mayon for a comfortable evening, rather than risk being sent to some cockroach, mosquito hell hole.

Every cloud has a silver lining and ours was that the following morning Mt. Mayon was cloaked in a wonderful cloud formation, which kind of made all the hassle of the previous day worth it.

Back at the airport we turned up at the allotted time, checked in and were packed like sardines onto a tiny propeller plane and flew back to Manila.

Bye, bye Mayon

Having a Whale of a Time - Day 2

The following day we were up early for a dive trip to what is called the manta ray cleaning station.  We were on a boat with a French girl, who was travelling on her own, and a two Filipinos.

Our dive master for the day was Bobby and there were a number of dives planned.  To begin with we were asked what dive experience we had as the area we were diving in has strong currents.  When I told them about my weedy experience, the dive master looked concerned but when we told him about Luis' even weedier experience he looked distinctly worried.  He should worry: I wasn't exactly looking forward to jumping into the open ocean off of Luzon and being picked out of the sea 3 days later, having been found floating face down off the beaches of Mindanao.

Our first dive was on a reef that Bobby claimed to be his own discovery and hence was known as Bobby's Reef (original, eh?).

We headed out from Donsal into open seas and around 90 minutes later we were mooring up just off an idylic beach between a tiny limestone island called San Miguel and its neighbouring island, located at the north end of Ticao Island, in the sea between the southern tip of Luzon and the island of Masbate.  The island of San Miguel had steep cliffs and caves all along its flank and this is where Bobby's Reef is located.

Beach between islands

Once we were moored up it was into the rubber outfits and were soon in the water, swimming along admiring the corals.  There seemed to be a distinct lack of fish to look at though.

Limestone caves

After this dive was completed, we were off to the manta cleaning station (Longitude 123.750  Latitude 12.661 in case you're interested). Here, apart from the manta rays, we were told we could hope to see hammer head sharks and black tip reef sharks.  Once at the venue a plastic tub on a rope was thrown overboard to assess the current speed before taking the plunge.  In the water the pull of the current was immediately noticeable and being 3½ miles from the shoreline did nothing to assuage my fears.

Visibility was good, which was a shame because we didn't see anything. To begin with we spent some time sitting, or rather clinging to the sea bed trying no to get swept away, waiting for something to come along and after a while, when nothing did we swam off in search of something to see.  But didn't really see anything.  And then we had to surface because the biggest bloke in the group, you know, the one with the biggest lungs, the biggest heart (in more ways than one) and the biggest bulk (hence more drag in the current and so had to swim harder, had run out of air.  Of course, I didn't get any understanding from anyone else in the group and was made to feel like I'd spoilt the dive on the supposed premise that if we'd stayed down for another 10 minutes we'd have seen every aquatic animal known to man.

Head into the current looking for mantas

Back on the boat we headed to Tico Island Resort for a very pleasant lunch and for Luis to catch up on his sleep - ZZzzzzzzzz.

Then we headed back out to the same location for more of the same. But alas, still no mantas and no sharks either. After which we headed back to the shore and the hotel.

The crew take it easy

Despite not seeing any big game it was a wonderful day, being on and in the water and messing around on boats.