Rumble in Manila

ENGLISH

Our three weeks in the Philippines was split between the capital, Manila and the beaches, lagoons and reefs of the Palawan islands.

Manila on our first visit felt like it was going to be one of those capital nightmares (like we'd had in Central America): all traffic jams, poverty stricken families, filthy streets, bright lights and standing water

"They" had told us that Baywalk, on the sea front was a good place to start for an night out. "They" were right up to a point. There was a buzz of activity and a stream of sea front bar/restaurants with cover bands galore. The first one we stopped at (and our favourite) "Anthology - Cafe by the Bay" had big bamboo beds for reclining and watching the world go by with a beer. The place was staffed by dwarves, who were too small to reach across the tables to serve drinks or collect plates (haha!?). We found out later that there was another place called Hobbit (haha!?) House, also staffed by small people and purposely so as they commonly have problems finding work. Both enterprises therefore were supposed to be positive attempts to level the playing field. The fact they were obliged to participate in the nightly dance show on the beachfront stage made us wonder though.

Either way, sunset on Manila bay came accompanied by the whiff of sewage. The ambience created by the setting sun was enhanced, no end by untold garbage floating at the water's edge and the gag making stench of minging toilets nearby. Dinner was a sensory overload!

The next day we visited Rizal Park in an attempt to see a part of town that wasn't grimy and broken. Unfortunately the park was just as grimy and broken, as was the old Spanish colonial walled city Intramuros. Oh dear.

So to phase two of our plan for the Philippines: Palawan. Our plane touched down in Puerto Princessa which, although choked with motorised tricycles, was a relief from Manila. On our way back from town to our hostel we luckily wandered into a hotel to get a second opinion on trips out to the nearby Honda Bay and by the time we left had arranged to be picked up 0700 the next morning for day on the water.

This, the first of our Palawan beach experiences, was just the start we needed. Snake island was, as the name suggests, a winding spit of sand. Within metres of the shore a huge school of jackfish swirled, followed by myriad of god knows what other fish and sealife. It was aquarium like in the abundance of things swimming about and of corals and other stationary stuff. On that same trip we met a couple of Danes who'd already been in Philippines for 3 months and who'd we end up shadowing (oh you again) around Palawan.

Next after more than 3 hours in one of those buses, on one of those highways, we were in Sabang, site of the famous underground river (sometimes called a riverine cave, which we're not sure is English). Our gates were phat...our own bathroom, veranda, mosquito net and the ocean a few steps away. Again there were crystal waters (la-da-di-la-da-da).

The Danes were already holed up at the same place, but we spent the first night hanging out drinking brandy and water and eating squid with a group of locals, who, it turned out were made up of 3 ex-marines, 1 coastguard and one itinerant. We exchanged some shots of our rum for their brandy and learned about being a Catholic in the Philippines, about boat licensing and Nathalie (who's vin rouge was actually brandy with juice) got to hear from the bar owner's wife that her husband was a loser and that she'd be off as soon as some one better came along. Proudly, we were still there rambling about rubbish over rum with the marines after the owner and his wife had left for the night: him as he was so drunk and her perhaps to start packing her bags while he was in a stupor.

Port Barton was a 500 peso, 4 hour bangka boat ride from Sabang. We were living even larger this time. In a Philippine backwater version of an MTV crib: a wooden cabin, with veranda, hot shower and garden with palm leaf hammocks overlooking the sea. On our way to a place actually called Aquarium reef, we played with the jelly fish, chased schools of little fish, teased clown (Nemo) fish in their anemones and then had a bbq lunch cooked by the boatman on a coral fringed white sand beach. Oh yes. After that we moved on to another beach where we saw a huge turtle appear from the depths, surface a couple of times to take a breath and then shoot off back down into the ocean, shadowed by a couple of those weird cleaner fish. Yes, yes.

El Nido on the north west side of Palawan was the gateway to another series of beautiful islets and lagoons though the sea at El Nido itself was full of green ming. Far from getting bored here, again we snorkelled and swam with the sea life at "secret" beach, "secret" lagoon and others until exhaustion: though the lack of sleep due to our fuckwit neighbours, who liked to shout, slam doors, laugh and whatever from 0600 every morning, made our daily exertions and nightly diversions (of wine and rum) doubly wearing.

Though there were a few places to eat, dinner on more than one occasion was noodles with chicken (neck it seemed), so we reverted to safer dishes of spaghetti carbonara and pizza a couple of times.

Back in Manila after a flight on some sort of 1940's turbo-prop plane (Nathalie was not happy), we found refuge in a bar next to our hostel and when not there in Starbucks. (I know we were lounging on evil consumerist sofas but they were forgiving, comfortable and they didn't smell).

The most memorable day of our return to Manila was a trip to San Fernando La Pampanga, where easter doesn't involve easter eggs and cute bunnies but instead, catholic fanatics (or penitents, depending on your point of view) flagellating themselves as they wander the streets until their backs are bloody raw flesh. These were followed by other mentalists who got themselves nailed to crosses to pay for their sins or to thank the lord for some benefaction or other. Some of the guys temporarily fixed hand and foot to the cross apparently do it every year, but it occurred to us that they could just stop robbing and stealing for a year and save themselves the trouble. But what do we know?

FRANÇAIS

A l'heure où j'écris, cela fait déjà plus de 3 semaines que nous avons quitté les Philippines. Nous sommes aujourd'hui le 2 Mai 2007 et on est à Pékin... Retour en arrière donc et exercice de mémoire:

Samedi 24 Mars: La nuit a été longue. On a quitté Sydney vers 10h00 hier soir pour faire escale à l'aéroport ultra moderne de Kuala Lumpur au milieu de la nuit. Après avoir "dormi" 4 ou 5 heures sur un banc, on est remonté dans un 2ème avion pour Manille.

Inutile donc de préciser qu'on pétait la forme quand on a finalement atterri aux Philippines à 14h30 le samedi après-midi.
On sort de l'appareil. L'air est brulant. Inspection de plusieurs hotels. On prend le plus cher (1000 pesos), le seul avec air conditionné. Promenade au bord de l'eau le long de Baywalk. On trouve un bar-resto en plein air avec des banquettes énormes pour s'allonger à table. Vu notre état, on ne cherche pas plus loin et on s'étale direct...

Dimanche 25 Mars: Debout pas trop tot. P'tit dèj' à l'hotel (inclu dans les 1000 pesos). Jason mange. Je le regarde. Ras-le-bol de riz! (Ah! Ah! En plus, c'est drôle!) Mon dieu, comment vais-je survivre au Japon et en Chine?
Centre commercial. Photos d'identité pour demande de visa pour la Chine: 2 vraies têtes de champions du monde!
Parc Rizal. Chaleur insoutenable et pas un brin d'ombre. Retour en Jeepney. On mange et on boit.

Lundi 26 Mars:: Debout aux aurores. Taxi pour l'ambassade de Chine. Quand on arrive à l'adresse indiquée, on nous dit: "Désolé, c'est plus ici, c'est ailleurs". Re-taxi vers la nouvelle adresse (...) Il est presque 10h00 quand on arrive... Notre ticket porte le no. 989. Le compteur n'affiche encore que 843 (...) Quelques heures plus tard: c'est le 989! On agite notre ticket, on saute en l'air comme si on avait gagné à la loterie!
On laisse nos 2 passeports entre les mains de la République Populaire de Chine et en route! Direction l'aéroport.
A 17h30, nous atterrissons à Puerto Princessa, la capitale de Palawan. Un gars sur son tricycle sans moteur nous pédale, Jason, moi et nos quelques 40 kg de bagages, vers notre nouvelle demeure de 2 soirs.

Mardi 27 Mars: Debout à 6h00. "Island hopping" autour de Honda Bay, "snorkelling". Vraiment magnifique. Allez-y!

Mercredi 28 Mars: Debout 7h30. Bus pour Sabang (pendant deux heures). La route n'est faite que jusqu'à la moitié du chemin. On s'installe dans la première cabane qu'on visite: pieds dans le sable et vue sur la mer, le tout pour 420 pesos.

Jeudi 29 Mars: Visite des grottes de Sabang et de sa rivière sous-terraine avec nos amis Danois. Personellement, je ne m'attendais pas à grand chose d'intéressant et je n'avais pas tort... Pour développer au maximum, c'était une grotte, il faisait très sombre et l'odeur était déplaisante à cause des milliers de chauves-souris.

Vendredi 30 Mars: Debout 6h00. Bateau pour Port Barton, départ 7h00, avec Paul, l'un de nos amis danois. 3 heures de trajet avec un bruit de moteur infernal. On arrive à 10h00. On s'installe dans notre nouvelle demeure... And relax!

Samedi 31 Mars: Debout 7h00. Paul, Jason et moi embarquons pour une journée de "island hopping" avec Gerry pour capitaine. Ma-gni-fi-que!

Dimanche 1er Avril: Debout 7h00. Bateau pour El Nido: 4 heures de bruit de moteur infernal. On arrive en milieu d'après-midi et on s'installe dans notre nouvelle demeure.

Lundi 2, Mardi 3 & Mercredi 4 Avril: El Nido. Petit lagon, grand lagon, lagon secret etc... Beau, très beau mais pas aussi époustouflant que les autres coins qu'on a pu voir... On est en train de devenir des "enfants gâtés"...

Jeudi 5 Avril: Debout 9h00. On repart pour Manille, cette fois dans un coucou à 18 places. Beaucoup de peur à l'aterrisage mais pas du tout de mal. Tapis rouge en descendant de l'avion.

Vendredi 6 Avril: Le chemin de croix revisité par les habitants de San Fernando La Pampanga. A mi-chemin entre La Vie de Brian des Monty Pythons:
- Crucifixion?
- Yes.
- Good. Out of the door, line on the left, one cross each.
... Et La Passion du Christ de Mel Gibson? Rire ou horreur?

Samedi 7, Dimanche 8 Avril: Manille. Processions dans la rue: C'est Pâques. Ballade dans Chinatown. Internet. Starbucks Coffee: Je termine de lire Papillion. (Quelle histoire de dingue!) Shiatsu massage: 80 minutes pour 450 pesos.

Lundi 9 Avril: Direction ambassade de Chine pour récupérer nos 2 passeports et nos 2 visas. Ambassade fermée. Motif: c'est toujours Pâques.

Mardi 10 Avril: On retourne voir nos amis Chinois. Ils n'ont pas perdu nos passeports et notre visa est prêt. Hurra!
On prend le bus pour Tagaytay (3 heures de "tape-cul"). On est crevé quand on arrive.

Mercredi 11 Avril: Visite du "Parc du Peuple dans le Ciel", extravagance inachevée par les Marcos. Tout est maintenant rouillé ou brulé ou en miette.
Retour à Manille.

Jeudi 12 Avril: Debout à 3h00 du mat' (après 1h30 de sommeil). Taxi pour l'aéroport à 4h00. Enregistrés à 5h30. Décollage à 6h20. On part pour le Japon!

---

---