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Published: April 27th 2007
Boat to Boracay
Passenger boat from Caticlan to Boracay. The ferry in the back was grounded during a typhoon
James Dylan Part II: Boracay The trip was short and after just 45 minutes, we landed in Caticlan, a small "banana republic" airport with a very short runway lined by coconut trees. It was so short that when we landed, the pilot immediately hit the brakes, and when we slowed enough to turn around, I could look down and see the grass at the end of the runway directly under my window. Caticlan is located on the large island of Aklan, which also has a larger airport in Kalibo, about 90-minutes away. Luckily I did my research before buying the tickets and saw Caticlan is about 5 miles from Boracay and chose it. Many travelers I talked to, when booking their flights, were not told about Caticlan by the travel agents, so they had to endure a (minimum) 90-minute bus ride from Kalibo. One couple we talked to were actually quite mad about this, and they felt their travel agent screwed them. I personally feel that the larger airline companies pay the travel agents a commission to book their clients to Kalibo, and not tell them about Caticlan, because they don't fly there.
So we landed and were met by
The domestic terminal in Manila
The domestic terminal in Manila a girl from the hotel (I had never been greeted by someone holding a sign with my name on it before), took a motorized tricycle down to the small port, paid another "terminal fee", bought ferry tickets, went through another security checkpoint where they poked through our bags yet again, and boarded a small passenger boat that took us across to Boracay.
When we landed, the boat was rushed by a small army of porters who grabbed all the bags that were stacked on the roof of the boat, and after we found ours and paid the ransom to get them back, we climbed into the back of a small truck sent from our hotel, the Paradise Bay. I chose the Paradise Bay because it is on the northern side of the island, opposite of White Beach. I wanted to be away from the bars and traffic on that side of the island. I was told that from the Paradise, we could walk to White Beach in 20 minutes or just take a motorcycle taxi, so it didn't really matter that much.
After a 10-minute ride, we arrived and were greeted by a staff of about 15 (which
White Beach, Boracay
White Beach, Boracay I thought was a lot of employees for a small resort with only 10 or 12 rooms), one of which handed us each glasses of pineapple juice. We checked into our room, showered and got organized, then went down to the main lobby where they were having a little buffett dinner for everyone.
Sitting next to the manager, a young, porty German dude, I found out there are only a few actual "employees", everybody else kinds of "hangs around to get OJT" (on the job training, or are family members, realtives, etc. One guy had his wife and child hanging out on the grounds all day. The Paradise Bay wasn't one of the "high-end" resorts, if I didn't tell you. It was very casual, most of the staff and family members hung around on the grounds in hammock or chairs, occasionally you would see someone cleaning debris out of the pool or collecting coconuts that had fallen. The place had a good vibe to it, as if everybody knew each other and were all friends.
27 April - We woke up around 7 am and took a little walk around our hotel. The beach on this side of
Algae on White Beach, Boracay
A little algae problem on White Beach, Boracay the island is kind of grungy, with flotsam washed up on it, stuff like coconuts, seaweed, etc., and there was a lot of plant-life under water near the shore, so it wasn't exactly a "swimming beach".
The workers at the hotel were wondering why I was swimming there, when White Beach is much nicer. Offshore, the sand was full of rocks, coral and slimy plant-life. The wind blows from the ocean towards this side of the ocean, so the waves are bigger and more debris gets washed up here; this side of the island is more popular with the windsurfing and jet-ski crowd. (I had to wonder why this place was called "Paradise Bay", because the kind of bay I would want to swim in while in Paradise wouldn't be as rough as this one).
Walking around the grounds, I noticed a large cage on the property with three monkeys locked up inside, which made me mad. The cage was bare with a concrete floor, the monkeys had nothing to entertain themselves, and the whole thing stunk of urine and feces. I hate it when people treat animals like this, and for no reason. If you HAVE to
West end of White Beach, Boracay
This is near the western end of White Beach, Boracay have monkeys in a cage, throw some grass or something on the floor, hang some branches in it, and clean it daily. I think the way a human treats an animal reflects greatly on that person’s nature. I had no idea why these monkeys were here, and I made a plan to open the cage and let them out before I left. I never asked about them, because I didn' t want the management to think I cared, and when I released them they wouldn't look towards me.
Later on in the morning, we took motorcycle down to White Beach (there was always at least one motorcycle or tricycle out at the gate) and spent the whole day walking the beach, checking out the scene. We ate at several restaurants, walked around a nice outdoor shopping center named "D*Mall" (that had some decent shops with native craftsman goods and no chain stores). I swam around in the water for awhile, but the sun was intense and I didn't have a tan, so I came back in and we laid in the shade of the coconut trees. It was hard to get Charito to come into the water with me,
Resort on west end of White Beach, Boracay
Resort on west end of White Beach, Boracay, forgot the name, but really nice place. as the whole time there all she did was obsess about how "dark" she was and was getting. For some reason, Filipinos are obsessed with being white, or at light skinned as possible. Walking around the stores, I saw entire sections devoted to "skin lightening" and "whitening" products, with products ranging from the cheap "snake-oil salesman" concoctions to, surprisingly, expensive name-brand companies that I had thought wouldn't market such obvious nonsense.
So we lay there under the few trees left on the beach and watched people go by. I say this because while talking to an animated barber a few days later, he told me the whole beach area had once been lined with coconut trees. He told me "a guy could walk from one end to the other and never set foot in the sun! It was very cool under the trees, but now they chop them all down for the damn hotel! They don't want to block the views for the tourists! Now, feel how hot it is in here? Just ten, fifteen years ago, I didn't need an air conditioner and I didn't worry about brownouts, but now, too hot!" It made sense, I guess.
Sunset on White Beach, Boracay
Sunset on White Beach, Boracay One interesting thing I noticed while lying under the tree, people watching, was that fat tourists really stand out in the Philippines and draw looks. I'm not trying to be mean, just stating an observation. And it wasn't the typical overweight people; I'm talking about obese people, mainly American tourists. After being in Qatar for a year, and then the Philippines for several weeks, it was shocking to see a 400 lb woman in a lime-green spandex shuffling up the beach. Some of the Filipino people, especially the poorer ones, would stop and stare in shock, with their mouths open. They probably never have seen someone that big, something which sadly, we Americans are used to. Most every Filipino I saw over there looked healthy and fit, but rarely fat and especially never obese.
Sitting there under the trees, I made up the following list:
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Good Things about Boracay: * Plenty of decent restaurants serving all kinds of food, and most of it inexpensive by American standards. Of course, I can't vouch for the cleanliness of the places, but I myself spent most of my time on Immodium while in in the PI. This could
Giant Fruit Bat
Giant Fruit Bat, Boracay have been from the endless mango shakes I was drinking or the meat from the street vendors, etc., but I will say that at Nanoo's Restaurant, I saw a huge cockroach in the bathroom.
To be fair, the restaurant is open to the beach, and the floor to the restaurant is sand. I didn't get a chance to look in many of the kitchens, but judging from the kitchen hygiene I did see, it sure wasn't American standards. Meat and...well, everything is always laying out, flies are everywhere, people aren't washing their hands as they should. One of the guys who I work with and has a house in the PI says it is hard to train his maid the standards of American cleanliness, saying she always leaves food out on the counter, among other things. (Many Filipinos don't have refrigerators in their homes, so they aren't used to them.) Wait, maybe this item doesn't belong in the "Good Things" section...
* There were no fast-food places on Boracay, at least not that I saw. I walked the entire beach several times and rode all over the island and never saw one. Most Filipinos are healthy, by the
Mount Luho
Scene from top of "mount" Luho (100m), Boracay way, and eat rice, fish and pork. (I don't think most of the natives on Boracay could afford fast-food anyway). It was nice not to be on a tourist island and have to deal with a dozen McDonald's scattered up and down the beach, the smell of the place, as well as the trash such places always produce.
* Soft, beautiful white sand beaches, with no rocks, coral, trash or broken glass. The water was crystal clear.
* Along the beach, none of the resorts minded if we sat on their chairs they had on the beach, even if we let them know we weren't ordering anything. No one ever asked us to get out of their chairs, as they would in the states.
* The are no cars on the island, just motorized tricycles and motorcycles as taxis, and small utility vehicles at the hotels.
* Plenty of hotels to chose from, from the very cheap to the very expensive; the same with the restaurants.
* The island is mostly safe, and I never felt threatened or in any danger. Then again, I didn't put myself in any stupid situations, like driving through a
Monkey Man
Me and my new traveling buddy, George W, on top of Mt. Luho (100m), Boracay village alone at night.
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Bad Things about Boracay: * Tricycles & Motorcycle Taxis: Way too many tricycles, which all tend to be old, noisy and spewing tons of exhaust into the air. They are all very loud, so don't rent a hotel room with wondows on the street.
* Constant electrical "brown-outs" and "blackouts". Every day the electricity went out several times, sometimes for an hour or more. This kind of sucks when you are getting a haircut and the guy with the clippers is halfway done, and you have to sit and wait in the hot and now un-airconditioned barber shop...
* Algae: The time we were there, 1 May to 6 May, there was quite a bit of slimy algae in the water right off shore, and we had to wade through quite a bit of it to get out to the deeper, cleaner water. The locals told me this only occurs seasonally starting in May, though.
* Not a big deal, but it is hard to dry your clothes on Boracay due to the high humidity. Charito would hang our wet clothes up on the balcony outside, and after being
Main Road
This is the main rode that runs the length of Boracay, parallel to White Beach. out there all day they would still be wet.
* ATM's: There are only 4 ATMs on the entire island for the 16,000 inhabitants plus tourists, and when they run out of cash, they are not refilled until the next business day. On weekends and holidays it is even worse, as the ATM's might go several days without being refilled. On paydays one will also see very long lines at the ATM's, and be aware that not every ATM accepts every card. One might only accept cards with the Visa logo, and not the MasterCard logo, so before standing in line for two hours, be sure it accepts your card. Also, be prepared for a very long wait in line, as many Boracay natives seem to do all their banking at the ATM, spending what seems like an unusual amount of time at it. You will see them pulling out a piece of paper and writing numbers down on it, adding and subtracting, deciding what to save and what to spend. Charito said that many workers don't know how much money they are getting until they actually go to the ATM and check their account, so they don't make
Filipino Market
This is the Filipino marketplace in D*Mall, on White Beach spending plans until they know.
The best solution is to bring travelers checks or plenty of cash. Also, many establishments cannot break a bill over 500 Peso (around $10), and some can't even do that.
* Vendors: During peak tourist season. there are literally hundreds of Muslim vendors (Muslim Vendors Association) from Mindanao who walk White Beach and try to get tourists to go on boat rides, scuba diving or snorkeling excursions, jet-ski rides, etc, for which they are paid a commission. Some carry racks of sunglasses with them, which they wave in front of you, even if you are wearning sunglasses.
These vendors are everywhere, and it doesn't matter if you are walking down the beach, lying on it, sunbathing, eating at a sidewalk restaurant, or lounging in a hammock outside your hotel, they will come up and start bothering you, asking "Jet Ski? Para-sail? Scuba? Sailboat? Sunglasses?" and waving a laminated card in your face. Normally, one has to tell them several times to go away, and it isn't long before another approaches. Many hotels and restaurants have "No Vendors" signs posted, but to little avail. I was told the activity was illegal, but local
Bat Cave
This is the entrance of the Bat Cave, on Boracay. police do nothing.
After several days, vendors become extremely irritating, as instead of enjoying a nice meal relaxing on your vacation, you will find yourself constantly them waving away and trying to avoid them. I know, all you have to do is ignore them, but they are like flies; irritating. Once, while trying to take a picture of the sunset, with my eye to the camera, I had a vendor come up and start tugging my shirt sleeve. I saw one fed-up tourist walking in a T-shirt that said "No Scuba! No Jet Ski! No Sunglasses!. Boracay and the tourists would benefit greatly if they removed the vendors from the island altogether.
There are also children walking the beach selling mango slices, bananas, etc, but they are not affiliated with the vendors, and are instead children of the poor, native "jungle people", as the local inhabitants call them. There are not many of them and they don't bother the tourists. They will just walk up to you with a small zip-lock bag with mango slices in it and not say anything, and when we shook our heads they left.
* The Bat Cave: One will see in
Bat Cave 2
This is just inside the Bat Cave, on Boracay. several tour guides and maps of Boracay something called the Bat Cave, which houses many giant fruit bats, and locals will be more than happy to accompany you there for a fee, or "tip". The cave is on the western-end or the island and down several dirt roads. The guide will then take you on a short hike through the forest to the mouth of a cave that drops down at a very steep angle. The mouth of the cave is littered with large boulders, and it is extremely difficult to enter and start walking down.
There is no path, no handrail, and the stones are extremely slippery with slime and bat guano. It is extremely dangerous, especially since the cave is at such an extreme angle. Also, the air inside the cave is very warm and humid, and in addition to the amount of guano, is very hard to breathe. Caution should be taken by those visiting and entering the cave. There are bats in the cave, but down at the bottom of it in the dark, and unless you have a flashlight or are there at dusk, you won't see them. The ceiling of the cave is
Boracayan Village
Amazingly, with all the tourism, this is how the natives live on Boracay. interesting, however, with multiple, small stalactites. Upon leaving, you will be asked for 200 Peso entry-fee on behalf of the family that owns the land, in addition to paying your guide.
* The Poverty: For a major tourist attraction like Boracay, with it's 300+ resorts and all the taxes they pay, there shouldn't be the kind of poverty on the island that I saw. We spent thousands of dollars on the hotel, massages, groceries, souveniors, restaurants, snacks, medicine, tricycle and motorcycle taxi rides, the motorcycle I rented one day and the go-cart the next, the ferry rides, the tips...and we are just one couple. The island should be flooded with money, but many of the roads aredirt and 95% of the population is living in grass huts with dirt floors. Very little, if any, of the wealth is flowing down to the natives. We all know the goverment of the Philippines is corrupt, and this is just another example. I know they could totally afford to build several subsidized apartment complexes for the poor and get them out of the dirt. After all, this is their island.
* The Perverts: Yes, all the rich sugar-daddies, or Dirty Old
American
How do you tell if you see an American tourist in the Philippines? Men, bring their little girls here to Boracay, and they are everywhere. Sitting next to you in restaurants, lying next to you on the beach, swimming near you in the water, winking at you if you are American and are "in on the secret", etc. It's weird, and sick. You know, I would respect them more if they just kept their weirdness in the hotel room and not bring it out in public and embarass themselves (and me). I really wonder if they "see" themselves as what everyone else see's them as? And no, I am not the only one who thinks like this. We would see other couples (Filipino and Western) in the area laugh and point and take pictures, too.
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28 April - Boracay. Today we actually asked a vendor about renting a jet ski, and he quoted us a price, which of course was too high so we walked away, and he got all offended that we didn't bargain with him and came chasing after us, so when we finally got him down to a decent price, he called the company he solicited for (on a walkie-talkie they all carry), and an Indian guy
Lobster
Lobsters on Boracay in a small boat came to shore and took us about a mile out, to where they had a floating "base" set up, some kind of platform that had jet-ski's and other recreational vehicles tied to it. There were chairs and benches set up and some guys lounging around. It was possibly one of the coolest job sites I had ever seen.
I filled out some little waiver form and got ready to jump on a jet-ski, when the Filipino worker insisted on showing me how to operate it, as in sitting in front with us behind him. I told him in my best Imperialist snob tone "Dude, I'm an American. We invented the jet-ski.", but he said he had to, it was part of the sale, what if something happened, he had to take us out and show us the boundries, he could get in trouble...blah blah blah. I said "Okay, but I am not counting the time as what I paid for". He said no problem, and climbed on. We took off, and all he really did is take us in a big circle (maybe a kilometer circumference), which was visibly marked by several dozen empty, floating,
Night market
This is a Filipino market at night near White Beach, maybe D*Mall bleach bottles anchored to the reef below.
One big circle? I asked him if this was all we could do, just jet-ski in one big circle, over and over? He said "Yes sir, and the boat patrol tickets people who ride outside the circle. There are scuba divers and snorkelers out there, and they don't want any accidents." Well...maybe they should not put everybody so close together? We have this large island, surrounded by miles of ocean, and they jam all the recreational activities in one area? In Doha, when you can rent a jet ski, they will ferry you several miles out into the ocean, where you can do no harm and kill yourself for all they care, as long as they get the jet-ski back.
So anyway, we finally shook the third wheel and took off on our own, and went in a big circle for 30 minutes. I let Charito steer it for a while, but I thought she was going to kill us, she went so fast. All those years of living in the Philippines as a repressed woman, being told her job is to "serve the man", not being able to drive, then
Boat back to Caticlan
This is the passenger boat back to Caticlan having to be the bread-winner for her entire family because the men in it couldn't get decent jobs or were bums. All those years of pent up agression and frustration were coming out, I could tell. I thought she might not even want to "take the wheel", but she jumped up there, almost knocking me into the water.
As long as I have known here, I have been slowly pulling her out of her role as a suppressed working girl, and allowing her to be a free adult. Oftentimes, I would perform some simple act for her, like clear the dishes off the table, and she would look shocked and try to stop me, as no man had ever done that with her before. Back in Doha I took her out into the desert, where she rode a camel and later zipped around on the sand dunes on an ATV. I've taken her out to eat in expensive restaurants, gotten her into exercising with me, and now a woman who never did any exercising at all is jogging the 6-mile beach trail with me. In the short time she's known me, she's grown from the demure, shy girl into
Weirdo
Perv with his little Filipina girl. What's really strange is the guy isn't that old or bad looking. someone more confident and outgoing.
There were two other jet-skis in our area, two Korean couples, but they kept having trouble on them. It looked like they didn't know how to keep them running, and they were often just sitting in the water, playing with the controls. I kept tell Charito to buzz by them and we doused them under a big spray of water. As we went by I would yell of "Koooorea!". I was still mad about them messing up Mt. Pinatubo.
Afterwards, we went back to shore & tried playing frisbee, but there was just too much foot traffic on the beach, & the sun was really beating down, so we went to Nigi Nigi's, which has a nice little bar set up outside on the beach, and ordered two mango shakes. Near the bar there's a bamboo platform which used to hold a few tables and chairs, but they have converted into a massage deck. The massage deck is covered with a thatch roof and has thin white sheets hanging down on all four sides, which you can ask them to close if you want more privacy, but we liked them open so we
Perv Patrol
Typical old perv with his little Filipina girl, with the body of a 12-year old. Why can't old men age respectably and with dignity instead of acting like horny 16 year old boys? could people watch. The massages are okay (not great, but they are only $10 per hour), but we still went back several times over the course of our stay.
We had an appointment later in the day at the Mandala Spa (http://www.mandalaspa.com/), which, according to the travel books is a 5-Star spa, so as the day wound down, we slowly made our way back towards that end of the beach. The Mandala Spa is situated on top of a hill, near the eastern end of the island, and we took a tricycle the last leg of the way there, because after walking the beach all day, I really didn't have it in me to climb the hill. The tricycle seemed to have the same idea, as it barely made it to the top.
Entering the Mandala Spa property, we walked up a path lined with trees and flowering plants and were met at the open-air lounge by the receptionist, who notified our masseuses that we were there. Two young Filipina girls in saris came out and escorted us into the spa garden, along a long path that took us to the far side of the grounds, where we
Perv
Old perv with his Filipina hookers in the department store. This old dude had 3 of them, buying them anything they wanted. entered a small building that looked like a traditional bamboo house on the outside, but was modernly decorated on the inside. The house was perched on the hillside overlooking the beach far below, and the view extended all the way over to Caticlan; it was very cool.
They showed us into a modern bathroom lined with marble, and instructed us to put on some saris they had laid out for us, (mine around my waist), and then showed us out onto a huge bamboo balcony where they first bathed our feet in wooden bowls filled with water and flower petals, then they led us into a bedroom that had two massage tables set up in it. I say it was a bedroom because there was a large bed surrounded by drapes in the middle of the room. I later asked about it and they told me they also rent out the rooms to overnight guests. Ooookay. It was just a little odd being in a 5-Star Spa and getting a $150 massage in a...bedroom...that they rent out to tourists. I mean, don't get me wrong; it was a great room with a killer view, designer bathroom with a huge
Perv Patrol
Balding old perv shopping with his Filipina. tub, the bamboo walls and floor...I would totally rent it next time...but still. I would have rather been out on the balcony.
I will say this; the massage I received at the Mandala Spa was undoubtably the best massage I ever received, for any price. The massage actually caused me to hallucinate, and it wasn't that I was sleepy or anything, I was just drugged out of my mind! When my masseuse had me turn over, I was actually dizzy and my head was numb. It made my sinuses full, so when I did turn over, I could hardly breathe. At the end of the massage, I couldn't even stand up, I had to sit on the table for awhile to recover. It was unreal.
Afterwards we dressed and were walked to the front reception area where I paid our bill ($375 for two massages, a facial and a mask). Just off-hand, making conversation, I asked the receptionist where the masseurs were certified, and she said they weren't! She said all her staff were trained in-house by the management. I thought this was a little strange, a place advertising itself as a 5-Star, World-Class spa, yet the masseurs have no formal training or certification? However, it was the best massage I ever had, so...whatever works. We caught a motorcycle back to our hotel and crashed for the night.
29 April - Boracay. Wanting to get away from the crowds on White Beach and especially the vendors, I asked a real midget vendor where we could rent a go-cart for the day, and he told us about a place at the end of White Beach, to which we then took a tricycle to. The price was reasonable and the go-karts were pretty neat, more like dune buggies, so I rented one for several hours. I was signing the paperwork when this young guy came out of the office and stood next to us. I looked at him, then at the boss, and fearing the worse, said "I can drive myself.". The boss said he was just the "tour guide". I said "We don't need, nor do we want, a tour guide. I have nowhere to go, we just plan to ride around and see things. We don't want to be bothered with a tour guide." The boss said that the insurance company's policy was that the tour guide go with us, in case we need anything or get in an accident.
I replied with "Fine, but I'm not paying anything extra for him, and I'm not tipping him, cool? So when we get back, don't throw me a "you have to pay the tour guide" line, because YOU are making him come with us, okay?" By now I was paranoid of all business transactions in the Philippines and felt it was best to settle everything before any money changed hands. He looked at me as if I was an asshole, which I guess I was, and said "sure, sure." You have to understand; everybody in the PI has a scam and tries to include their family, friends, or distant relatives if any of the previous weren't around. Everybody is looking to get money out of the tourists, and you really have to get everything settled, on paper, in triplicate, in black & white, notarized, verified, filed at the court house, faxed to Manila, published in the paper and distributed to the masses before you do anything. I was just tired of it all and it was showing.
We jumped in the go-cart, I put on my cowboy hat, and we took off, trying to lose the guide. To be fair, he did stay pretty far back, and I guess he was only along to make sure we didn't steal it or do anything stupid in it, as I'm sure American and Korean tourists have done in the past. First, we headed out towards the far-western end of the island, to a deserted beach I read about in the tour guide book. On the way, I saw the guide stop and pick up several small kids on his bike, which I thought was odd, but figured he was just giving them a ride.
After 10 minutes or so the asphalt ended and we hit the dirt road, went over a hill or two, then saw a fork in the road and the one on the left went down to the beach! I prepared to turn left and head down the hill when the "tour guide" pulled up on his motorcycle next to me, with the two kids on the back yelling. Thinking something was wrong, I stopped and turned off the engine so I could hear them, and all I heard them say was "Bat Cave? Bat Cave"? Charito told me that they were asking if I wanted to go to the bat cave, and they were saying if I was, I had to go right, not left! And they would be my tour-guides to the bat cave, too! Of course they would.
What a scam. I stopped for this? I yelled out "No bat cave! Hindi! Alis Kadyan!" (which Charito taught me to say, which means "No! Go Away!") in Tagalog!
They kept yelling, ignoring me, so I gave Motorcycle Boy a dirty look, kicked up a cloud of dust and took off down the hill to the beach. He just lost whatever tip I was going to give him. We rode to the end of the road, at which there was a place called the Rising Sun Resort, which looked very isolated and not doing all that well in the business department. I didn't see anybody around, no cars or tricycles, no one on the beach, nothing. Cool, I said, and parked, grabbed our bags and started walking down the beach. Of course, Motorcycle Boy was behind us, and he had brought the two little punks, who were right behind us, but by now Charito had had enough of them and turned round and gave them a good ass-chewing in Tagalog that sent them both crawling and grumbling back to the punk who brought them here. Really, what did they expect me to do? Drop everything and run off to theis stupid "bat cave" with them? I had no interest in it.
We hung around on the beach for awhile, lying on the sand, swimming a bit, taking pictures and just enjoying having the whole beach to ourselves. At one point motorcycle boy, probably bored, came over to see how long we were going to be, and I told him to "F - off", that I had rented the go-kart for 4 hours and was going to do what I wanted with it, and if I wanted to lay on the beach all day, then I would. I said I told his boss I didn't want nor need him to come with us, and he was free to go back if he wanted. He slinked away, looking wounded and puzzled as to why an American would spend so much money on a go-kart then lay on a beach all day.
After another 20 minutes or so we finally did gather up our things and walk back to the go-kart. The motorcycle was still there, but Motorcycle Boy was nowhere to be seen. We jumped in the buggy and took off up the hill, passed the motorcycle on the way up the hill, and saw him sit up suddenly. He had been sleeping under a tree in tall grass, in the shade. I yelled "snooze ya' lose!" as we sped up the hill.
Next on my list was to go up the small mountain, (which was really a big hill), where I heard they had a viewing platform. Down the road, there were more kids standing in the road, all yelling "bat cave! bat cave!", waving at us and pointing in the opposite direction as if we were in the Tour de France and the finishing line was the bat cave.
We hit the asphalt again and I stopped along the way to take some pictures of some squatter’s shacks, then took off up the road that led to the peak. Motorcycle Boy had caught up with us by now, and occasionally he couldn't help himself and would beep his horn and gesture to some side attraction or tourist trap on the side of the road I had no interest in seeing. He was probably only paid on a commission basis from places people stopped at and bought junk. We just ignored him, honked back and waved. I remembered Mark Twain's similiar experience with these people in his book "Innocents Abroad", the "guide" that makes them stop at every silk shop, hat shop, dress shop, etc.
Up at the top of the "mountain", we parked below the peak and hiked up several flights of steps to the peak, which did have a good view of the whole island. I took some pictures & looked around the peak; the native owners had built a little zoo, scattered some chairs around and built a deck for visitors to chill on. They had a few cages with animals in them; one held two wild cats, another had some wild chicken in it...nothing really. But walking back to Charito, who was on the deck talking to some women, a little monkey came up to me and held his hand out, I took it and he climbed up onto my shoulder and started grooming me!
Well, all the natives thought this was the funniest thing they had ever seen, but they were also amazed, as they said as long as they had been there, the monkey had never done that to anyone before! He let me hold him and he licked my neck and at one point "bit" a part of my neck with his teeth and pulled it, but not hard. I didn't know whether to be insulted or honored! I have had more than a couple people tell me that I have a calming effect, and some of the spiritual ones had said I have "good energy" about me that maybe attracted the monkey to me? While I was holding him, he was also grooming my arms.
Later on, heading down the mountain trying to lose Motorcycle Boy, we saw a sign for a "botanical garden and butterfly farm", so we pulled in and were welcomed into a...maybe it was a tent? It was a garden that was surrounded and covered with a mesh net, and inside there were some concrete containers holding plants and flowers, and there were some butterflies fluttering about...maybe 10 of them? I would hardly have called it a botanical garden nor a butterfly farm. As usual, it was just a Filipino guy looking to make some money, so they threw up a little business and attached a grand name to it and tried to get tourists to donate money. I asked the guy why he called it a butterfly farm, and he showed me an old bird cage that had several butterfly cocoons lying in it, which I guess he found out in the forest and brought in where they hatched. I guess that makes it a butterfly farm, then. He did have a giant fruit bat hanging on the mesh above, which was cool, being able to see one so close, and in daylight.
Tip # 4: In the Philippines, places like to hype up their credentials to sound much bigger than they are. As you'll read later on, time and time again I discover something advertised as the biggest! the greatest! the best thing ever! only to discover it is simply a small business, and sometimes not even that. Later on you will read about this, but in Bantayan, we saw a sign to Maia's Botanical Garden and Inn, and driving down the side road to it, discovered...a house. A simple little 2 or 3 bedroom house with a few trees in the front and back yards with a few plants sticking out of the ground.
After the grand "botanical gardens", I took a little side trip to a business investment I had seen advertising on the internet (http://www.fairwaysbluewater.com/) & (http://www.boracaygolf.com/invest.html) "Balaihara" was the name of the company. It was a large hotel/golf course complex, and being mildly interested, I wanted to take a look. I had emailed the office and was told to "stop by anytime", so I did. The deal was, it is basically a hotel, and you buy a room and it is yours. You can stay in it anytime you want, and when you aren't there, the hotel rents it out. You get 40%!,(MISSING) they get 60%! (MISSING)Based on full occupancy at the rate of $120 a night, you could make your money back in a few years, and have a nice place to stay i f you ever visited. I really wasn't into the 40/60 deal, instead thinking it should be more like 60/40, at least 50/50, but maybe that was negotiable. I know there is a Filipino law that states foreigners can't own more than 40%!o(MISSING)r a property.
I called the office and was picked up in a van, the same van that was used to shuttle the domestic workers from the front gate to the hotel, which was interesting. Here I am, a potential investor, wanting to sink $80K+ into their business, and they can't even pick me up in a car? I have to ride the domestic worker's shuttle bus? Anyway, we get to the main reception area, and I ask the lady about seeing one of the rooms, and of course no one has any idea what I'm talking about. I pulled out the brochure and tried to explain, and they finally figured out what I wanted. I didn't get it, was I the only guy who showed up to look at the place? Does everybody else just drop money in it without looking at it first? As is usual Filipino style though, once they figured out what I wanted, there were people running around, no one knew what to do, someone had to go get the manager...in the end, they boarded us back onto the employee shuttle and he took us out around the golf course to a building, where I was able to look at the place.
I won't go into a big story about it, this is already taking too long...but the first thing I noticed was water on the inside of the main window sill, so I knew it was leaking. I looked around and saw it was basically a large hotel room with a balcony, and we left. It was advertised as a condo/apartment, but this was nothing like that. The guy took us back to the main gate, then when we got out, told us the ride to the gate costs 500 Peso, and said we had to pay him. By now I was sick of this shit and told him so. I just brushed past him and out the gate, while he was arguing with some other guy in the same uniform who was already there. Enough is enough. I did plan to email the company about the water leak and also if they usually charged potential investors to look at the rooms.
30 April - Boracay. Today we rented a motorcycle and rode to Rising Sun resort again and spent a few hours on the beach, swimming and napping. I sunbathed a bit, but as usual, Charito was so worried about becoming tan, she hid in the shade. The beach was totally deserted except for 2 teenagers sleeping in a cave near where we staked our claim. I ventured out to test the water and the waves were great, but the current was a killer and I couldn't even stand up; it would pull me along the beach. I would dive down and grab a large rock, but the current was so strong it would literally pull me free. In the end I just walked up the beach a quarter mile and let it pull me down to where Charito was. It was great; there were no other tourists, no vendors, no jet skis or boats. There was a really cool little island about a quarter-mile off shore, and I wanted to swim out to it, but it was surrounded by sharp rocks and I didn't see a place to try to pull myself up. I could see the incoming waves crashing against it and wisely decided not to try.
Afterwards, we decided to go find the famous Bat Cave and see what it was all about. We had a little trouble finding it, so stopped at a run down shack and asked a kid in the road, but he ran inside the house and his mother came out, who also ran back inside and brought out the father, who I guessed had just woken up. He came out in dirty boxer shorts and a greasy wife-beater, scratching his pot-belly. He said he would take us. I said I didn't really need a "guide", I just wanted to go look. In his mind, it was impossible for me to go look at the cave without a tour guide, and he tried to convince me of this. I know, he is just trying to make some money, and I didn't want to, but I could see he was very poor and there was a pig sleeping on his porch and his kids were running around barefoot and naked...so I said okay.
He jumped on the back of the motorcycle, but at the first small hill it was obvious it wasn't going to make it, so he jumped off and walked. The parking area to the bat cave wasn't very far from his house, and there were a lot of kids there, all promising to "guard" my motorcycle until I got back. Around the parking area were a lot of tar-paper shacks and other makeshift shelters. I told one kid to watch the bike (not that there was any danger) and our guide took us through the woods on a heavily traveled path, and after a few minutes came across some large volcanic boulders laying about, and in the middle of them the opening to a cave that went downwards at a very steep angle.
I already wrote about the bat cave earlier, but will say again, it is extremely difficult to enter and walk down. There is no path, no handrail, and the stones are slippery with slime and guano and are dangerous, the air inside the cave is very warm and humid, and with the addition of the guano, is very hard to breathe. We went down about halfway, but I could see it was way too dangerous, and I told the guide to turn back. We weren't prepared for this, and I didn't want to get myself killed on my vacation just because of this stupid cave. It was kind of interesting though, with little stalactites hanging down. I would probably go back to the cave in I ever go back to Boracay, but I would bring gloves, boots, water, a strong flashlight, and maybe even a medical mask. We headed up and saw several other (smarter) tourists who didn't go in, standing at the mouth looking at us and asking if it was worth their while inside. It didn't take me long to talk them out of it, especially since they saw me dripping with sweat. It was hot as hell in there, and it stunk.
Done with the bat cave, we drove to White Beach and ate, then went back to hotel to chill for a few hours, took showers and organized our things. We just wanted to take a break from the tourism thing for awhile. While organizing my clothes, I realized I brought way too many clothes; since I had been in the PI, I had only wore shorts, t-shirts and sandals. It was too hot to wear any jeans, dress shirts or even tennis shoes I brought. I could have left 75%!o(MISSING)f my clothes at home. By the way, Boracay is very casual, and the rest of Philippines is moderately casual; in the malls I wore a polo shirt with khaki shorts. I looked more conservative than I would have liked, but according to Charito, Americans like me are expected to dress nicer than others.
Sometime around 7 p.m. we rode down to White Beach and returned the motorcycle. The guy I rented it from was standing at the drop-off place looking worried I had stolen it or something, so I laid some bills on him and he chilled. We walked on the beach again and hung out at one of the higher-end outdoor night clubs, one that had soft lights and a DJ playing chill-out music. After a few drinks, we spent a few hours picking through table after table of handmade good that the island natives brought out to the beach at night. At night all the "jet ski" vendors leave and the villagers come out and set up their tables, each selling necklaces, handmade jewelry, etc. It was much less hectic than during the day, with all the vendors and beach-goers. Late at night we took a motorcycle-cab back to the Paradise Bay.
1 May - Today was our last full day on Boracay, so we spent it relaxing. We took a bike down to the Nigi Nigi, which we had taken a liking too, ordered many mango shakes & a few massages, and just chilled on hammocks. I liked this, being able to hang out on the resort property and not have to be guests of the place. I mean, we were paying our way with the food, drinks and massages, but you know how most places are, especially in the states. Later on in the evening, walking on the beach amid the villagers with all their stuff laid out, I saw a guy selling these huge lobsters from a bucket, and on a whim, I picked out a green monster lobster, it was huge.
I remember paying about $55 for it, but in the states it would have been an easy $250. The thing was gargantuan. If you ever go there, be warned: the guy selling the lobsters is usually standing outside a restaurant, or (in my case) a beach restaurant with a portable grill set up on the beach. He told me the cook would grill it for me, and he did. What he won't tell you though is that there is a fee for grilling it, which was in my case 375 Peso ($7.00)! This isn't a lot, compared to the cost of the lobster, but it was a rip off in the PI. The restaurant was offering an entire buffet that night for only 300 Peso! I was really getting tired of being screwed every time I turned around.
I walked over to the lobster guy and asked him why he didn't tell me the cook was going to charge me to grill it? "You told me he would grill it for free." Guess what, when it comes to dealing with problems like me, he doesn't speak English anymore. But when it came to negotiating a price for the lobster, he seemed to speak it pretty good. I told him off, and said he should have told me, and that I wasn't going to pay it, and if they asked, I would tell the manager to go talk to him, since he sold it to me and told me grilling was included. This made him look worried, so I was happy, and walked off.
Back at the table, I was enjoying the show; Lobster Boy was arguing with the grill cook, and waving their hands around. A waitress joined in, and they occasionally looked over at me. Interestingly, I kind of had them at an advantage; if they DID decide to push it (which they wouldn't) and went and got a cop, they cop would most likely be on my side! They like to keep tourists happy on Boracay, and because of all the vendors and scammers, I get the benefit of the doubt from the cops. It is sad, but if you are American and obviously have money and there is a dispute between you and a vendor selling something, it goes to you.
2 May - Checked out in the morning, took the hotel shuttle to the port, then the passenger boat over to Caticlan. The flight left at 11:15 am, and I wanted to be a little early for a flight for once, so we were there at 9 am. At the check-in counter the clerk looked at my tickets and whispered to his buddy, they both looked at me. They nervously told me I needed to go across the street to the Seair office. "Now what?" I said to Charito, as we were escorted across the street and into the sweltering office. Was I on some "no fly list" because I was making a big deal about all the con-artists in the Philippines? Man, it was hot in that office; even the flies had their tongues hanging out. The clerk who escorted us the office was whispering to a woman in a Seair uniform and looking at us, as if we were attempting to cash a fake check at a bank. The woman looked at our papers, titled her head to one side like girls do, gave me the old "Aww, I'm sorry, didn't you know? Your flight was cancelled!" line.
"Excuse me?"
She replied all sympathetically and then accusingly; "Yeah, we emailed you yesterday afternoon, didn't you check your email?"
"Ma'am, I'm on vacation. I'm not one of those people who have to check their email all the time."
"Well, maybe you should have, but no problem. We've already re-booked you for a flight at 3 pm today."
What could we do, this was the Philippines. Charito was pissed, but I told her it wasn't so bad. We could go back to Boracay and eat and hang out some more, but she wasn't having any of it, and I had to spend a few minutes trying to convince her that there was absolutely nothing to do over here for the next 6 hours. It was hot and dusty, and there were only fast-food restaurants in the one-horse town the airport was in. Finally though, she agreed, and luckily the airline let us turn our bags in early so we wouldn't have to carry them with us.
We went back to the wharf and caught a ferry across to Boracay, hopped on a motorcycle taxi and went back to D*Mall (which is how they spell it) and had coffee at a little coffee shop, then lunch at a pizza joint on the beach. The restaurant was very small and cramped, and we were sitting at a table next to two other tables, when this huge group of noisy Koreans came in and grabbed the two tables and pushed them together, and most of them sat down, but there were still 5 standing. Since we were the very next table, they all started looking at us, as if we should stand up and leave, letthing them have our table, and I just looked back (I told you earlier I don't like Koreans). Well, really, what was I supposed to do? We had just gotten our food and were eating when they came in. Maybe they should have made sure there was enough room before coming in.
Eventually, the others sat at a table behind us, but they were talking back and forth across our table, and one of them backed his chair all the way up against mine, and people were trying to get through...I don't know if they were doing it to piss us off, but they obviously didn't know they were messing with a tattooed American. I refused to give an inch. When the guy backed his chair up against mine again and was nudging it, I pushed back suddenly with my own chair and caused him to lurch forward, and then I gave him a look that said "If you do that again I'm going to take you outside and make dog-meat out of you." He looked at me and saw a crazy American with a sleeveless T-shirt and cut-off shorts, tattoos, and he became all apologetic and said "soddy, soddy" and their whole table was quiet.
We had a manager at another restaurant down the beach tell us he actually wouldn't serve groups of Koreans larger than four, because if more than four, they become arrogant, noisy and obnoxious. He said he'd only serve them outside on the beach where they can't bother anyone. I laughed at this, and understood what he meant. They really were obnoxious, they ones I met anyway. After we ate, we made our way back to the airport, checked in and paid our airport bribe...er...fee, then took our seats in the crowded terminal. Right next to us was a DOM with his really young girlfriend/wife, and I took some really good pictures of him just because he looked so creepy and disgusting. We boarded a Czech-made turboprop and had a nice flight to Cebu, flying low over the mountains so we got a good look of the island from above.
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