Early Easter Sunday, Iselin, Tom and I grabbed a taxi to the airport, and boarded our pane to Cebu. The plane was surprisingly short and we got straight in a taxi to the pier, and within 5 minutes we were on the ferry bound for Bohol. To our relief we were on a study, normal ferry made of metal and everything. The morning had gone by in a flash of different forms of travel, we threw our bags down on the roof of the deck and lay, barefoot in a heap on the floor, in true backpacker style. Bang, Bang, Bang we were off the ferry, on a tricycle to the bus station and on an hour bus bound for Carmen, the central town of the island, closest to the Chocolate hills I had been eager
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