Mike and I were pretty drained upon our return from Myanmar. 15 days of non-stop temples, pagodas and never-ending night buses is enough to tire even the most robust of travellers. Most of our day back in KL was spent just chilling out and eating some delicious Malaysian cuisine.
We also started to plan what we wanted to do in our next destination: The Philippines. Air Asia is a low-cost airline based in Malaysia and it is absolutely ridiculous how cheap you can find flights pretty much anywhere you want to go in the region.
Air Asia didn't fly directly to Manila, the capital of the Philippines, but it did fly to a city north called Angeles City. Since it would be our introduction to the country, we decided to spend a night and get a feel for what we were in for.
Nothing could have prepared us for what this city had in store.
We flew into Clark International airport. This airport used to be an American air force base from 1908 until 1991. At a time it was the largest US air base outside of the continental United States.
Due to the near constant presence of American soldiers for so many years, Angeles quickly became the Philippines' Sin City, providing the servicemen with whatever "entertainment" their hearts desired.
We took a bus from the airport and were dropped off in the city. A short walk brought us to our hostel, the lazily named Friendship Budget Hotel. Now with all the amazing accommodation we were used to across South East Asia, this place looked like it was slapped together at the last minute and tried to sell itself as Angeles' only Hostel, which I think it actually was at the time.
Inside we were welcomed by the hostel owner, a Dutch chef. He sat us down and explained what Angeles had to offer. Essentially he told us that Angeles is the prostitution capital of the Philippines. He didn't seem too disturbed with the idea, but it seemed like his slender male Filipino employee was more than just an employee, so I guess he had his pleasures as well. Even though the American soldiers have departed, they have been replaced by old white men looking to have sex with barely legal Filipinas, and I really wouldn't be surprised if many were underage as well. The nearby Fields Avenue is where there are countless Go-Go bars, dance clubs and casinos where you can literally sleep with anyone you want for the right price.
Our hostel was practically empty except for 2 Brits and 2 other Canadians, Mitch from Calgary and Dylan from Montreal. These guys were younger than us, but both had pretty impressive travel resumes. Mike and I were pretty stoked that we would be a group of Canadians hitting up the town that night, and Mitch and Dylan had already been out the night before and told is that it's pretty wild out there.
While it was still daylight, we walked around a bit and got a feel for the town. What struck me was the sheer number of older, pot-bellied white men wearing wraparound Oakley sunglasses and having a slender young Filipina on their arm. While some (very few) did seem to have married them and had some convincing proof (mixed-race children), by in large it looked more like older men creepily draping themselves over some poor girl with no other options to make a living.
Walking around, we were the right colour, but we were easily 20 years younger than the next closest in age among tourists here.
That evening, the four of us were ready for a night on the town and made our way to Fields Avenue. We started the night off at a small restaurant serving cheap, ice-cold beers and some pretty basic food.
The 5-minute walk from the drop off point to the restaurant was an eye-opening experience: there were literally hundreds of women soliciting in the streets, grabbing at your crotch, offering you any form of perversion your heart desired. In between every group of aggressive women, was a shop advertising Viagra, cigarettes and booze. This made the Patpong district in Bangkok seem like a children's' amusement park in comparison.
Once we were nice and boozed, we proceeded to walk up and down Fields Avenue, dodging the grabbing hands of the prostitutes and jokingly asking some of them how much for the most depraved acts we could think of.
We finally went into a 3-floor establishment that was essentially a vending machine for women. The Wraparound Oakley-wearing types were salivating and choosing whomever they thought would be best for the evening or week-long foray of lechery, while we were merely bystanders to this spectacle. The excitement was so much, that I proceeded to fall asleep in my seat. When I woke up, I headed back to the hostel and went to sleep.
The following morning I found out that the other guys had some pretty funny stories to tell. Mike and Mitch had gone to a bar and rang a bell that means you are supposed to buy a round for everyone. Instead they just rang the bell and bolted out of the place as fast as they could.
Dylan on the other hand, had the most elaborate story of the night. At one point he realized that one of the lovely ladies of the night had stolen his wallet without him noticing. Without hesitation, she quickly jumped onto a bus and was making her getaway. Meanwhile, two other prostitutes saw this and joined Dylan on a tricycle (a Filipino form of transportation, usually a motorbike with a side car).
So here is Dylan and two prostitutes, all in a sidecar, chasing down another prostitute in a bus who just stole his wallet. They finally got the bus to pull over and confronted this woman. He did get his wallet back, but he still left her a bit of money. I mean, who wouldn't pay a tip for an amazing story like that. Only in Angeles!
The next morning, we groggily said goodbye to our Canadian friends and made our way to the bus station. Mike and I got there in a Jeepney: a converted jeep that now acts as the most common means of local transportation in the Philippines. While in the Jeepney, Mike noticed a shady character with his arm behind Mike, but thought nothing of it. He soon noticed after exiting the Jeepney, that his backpack was open and his Ipod was missing. Angeles takes another victim.
We got to Manila and were instantly taken aback by how urban it felt. Like this was a proper city, not proper in the clean sense of the word because it was in fact really dirty, but it had a grit about it that was instantly palpable. I clenched my wallet tightly while taking the LRT to our hostel, the amazing Pink Hostel Manila (http://www.pinkmanilahostel.com). This was a party hostel in the most pure sense of the word: rooftop pool, tv area and scores of young people just looking for a great time. We felt right at home.
That evening we met Bilee, a Filipina who was staying at or working for the Pink Hostel, I'm not sure, but either way she was awesome and invited us to do a walking tour of Manila the next day.
Before going on the walking tour, Mike and I and Serena from Nanjing, China, who we met at the hostel, made our way to an arena to watch a traditional Filipino sporting event called Sabong.
This may not sound familiar to anyone, but I'm sure everyone is aware of it by its English name: cockfighting. Not only is it perfectly legal in the Philippians, but it is extremely popular. We were sitting in an arena with several hundred people all screaming for some cock's blood.
Being the only foreigners in the arena, we were treated like royalty. We were seated near the front and were greeted by all the local fans sitting around us. Even the kristo (bet taker) tried to get us in on the action. The only downside is pictures weren't allowed so I have to rely on my story telling skills.
One thing that makes this sport particularly brutal is that each cock is outfitted with gaffs, or razor blades attached to their already sharp talons. So when they go at each other, you are guaranteed to see blood; lots and lots of blood.
Depending on the precision of the victorious rooster, the fight could result in the instantaneous death of the other, or a slower, more agonizing death, which seemed to be the more common result. After watching several rounds of roosters convulsing in the ring from fatal cuts to vital organs or arteries, we decided that our vital organs could only take so much brutality before wanting to throw up in the stands. We smiled politely, and made our way to the exits.
If my memory serves me correctly, we were told that there is often a large barbecue after these events, where the losing cocks are eaten and mourned simultaneously. So sad, so brutal, yet so delicious.
Once back at the hostel, we met up with Bilee and some other backpackers and made our way to Manila's biggest attraction: Intramuros.
Intramuros is a walled-city that was the capital of Spanish Manila. The stone walls were constructed in 1590 and remain mostly intact to this day. The Spanish have had a long history and influence in the country, even the name Philippians was derived from King Philip II of Spain. The Spanish expedition, led by Magellan, first arrived in 1521 and by 1571, Islamic Manila was defeated and became the capital of the Spanish East Indies.
We explored the grounds and visited Fort Santiago, the site's signature destination.
From there we visited the Rizal shrine, the place where Jose Rizal was incarcerated as he awaited execution. Jose Rizal is a, if not THE national hero of the Philippines. He was a key figure among the Filipino Propaganda Movement, which advocated for independence from the Spanish colonialists.
Many statues, parks, and universities in the city are named after him. He was executed in the city by the Spanish in 1896.
From there we walked past the Cathedral of Manila, and made our way to San Agustin Church, a UNESCO World Heritage site. There was a Hello Kitty-themed wedding going on inside the church, so our view of the interior was extremely limited. Another legacy of the Spanish is Catholicism (not Hello Kitty). Over 80% of the Philippines identifies as Roman Catholic, and it was in front of this church that we learned that it is in fact illegal to get a divorce in the country. They are so Catholic, that during Easter, you can see Filipinos literally nailing themselves to crosses and being paraded through the streets.
We continued our walking tour through Manila's Chinatown, where we grabbed a bite to eat. That night, Bilee chartered a Jeepney for the whole hostel, and we all made our way to a cool bar with a live band. A great time was had by all!
The following day, Mike and I had an ambitious day trip planned. We wanted to visit Taal Volcano, the inception of Volcanoes. It is a volcano in a lake, with a lake in the crater of the volcano; and seemed too cool to be missed.
We got on a bus to Tagatay and then hopped on a tricycle towards Talisay, the village on Taal Lake's shore. Just the views on the winding road down towards the shore already made the trip worthwhile.
Once in Talisay, we had to bargain to get a bangka (traditional boat) across to the Volcano itself.
It was a blisteringly hot day, and we had the option to walk up to the crater or take a horse. Being cheapskates, we opted for the walk. The 45-minute walk was well worth it. We were treated to amazing views and as a bonus, we purchased a few golf balls at 1$ USD a piece to drive them into the crater.
The following day, we found out some very unfortunate news about another Volcano in the area. On May 7th, 2013, Mount Mayon, an active Volcano erupted unexpectedly and killed 5 hikers near its crater. Besides being tragic, this is very significant because Mike and I had originally planned on hiking it a mere two days after its fatal eruption. The travel gods were really looking out for us.
We decided we were still going to visit the Volcano, but would only view it from afar. First we had bigger fish to fry. In fact we were going to hopefully swim with the world's largest fish, the Whale Shark.
We made our way to Donsol on Luzon's southeastern tip and found a luxurious yet empty guesthouse. The main draw of Donsol, a small fishing village, is the butanding, the Filipino word for whale sharks.
Since we arrived early in the morning, we were able to hop on a boat tour and were quickly in search of these massive yet docile creatures. We circled around for quite some time before the scout sitting high up on the mast told our group that he could see one. As I missed my chance to see these amazing creatures three years before in Mozambique because of the action of one selfish American girl, and again in Thailand when practically everyone I met saw one except Josh and myself; I wasn't going to miss another.
The boat slowed down and told us to prepare ourselves for the brief yet unique experience. We put on our masks, snorkels and fins, and were anxiously waiting to get in the water. When the captain gave the word, we would all start swimming with all of our might and try to keep up with these gentle giants.
Besides getting kicked in the head by Korean tourists, I was actually able to swim up to one of these amazing creatures, and swim along side it for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only around 30 seconds or so.
We got back in the boat and attempted to find others, but I considered this already a mission accomplished.
With a huge smile on my face from finally seeing and swimming with a whale shark, Mike and I made our way to Legazpi, the city closest to Mount Mayon, the deadly volcano I had mentioned before.
We made our way to Lingon Hill, which provided us with amazing views of Mount Mayon, while being far enough away that it posed no danger to us whatsoever. Unfortunately, the actual lookout platform was under construction, but I still sneaked onto it to snap the best pics.
Mount Mayon is renown for its perfect cone-shape and looks like the quintessential volcano. After taking a few photos from the platform and again from the bus station with inappropriate smiles considering 5 people were killed there just two days before, we got on a night bus headed for Batangas, our gateway to the island of Mindoro.
We took our first ferry in the Philippines and it was rather enjoyable. After a few hours, we approached our destination, Puerto Galera.
Puerto Galera may not be the nicest beach in the Philippines, but it is a well developed and very popular diving destination, our reason for visiting.
What we weren't expecting was that it had very much the same vibe as Angeles, that being the quantity of wraparound Oakley's and young Filipinas was rather elevated.
The diving was excellent and as were the accommodations and restaurants, which catered primarily to wealthy white men.
After a few days of diving, we decided it was time to get our party on. We took a number of ferries and made our way to Caticlan on Panay Island, the base for the Philippines' most popular, most touristy and arguably most beautiful island, Boracay. On the night-ferry from Batangas to Caticlan, we ended up meeting Craig, another Canadian from Kamloops BC, and agreed to meet up again in Boracay.
Once we arrived in Boracay, Mike and I foolishly opted to walk to the beach to save some money, but even in the morning it was crazy hot and the sweat was flowing almost immediately.
After an arduous and longer than expected walk, we finally reached station 3: the sleepy, laid-back portion of Boracay's 4-km white beach. We walked along the beautiful, white-sand beach and found our lodging for the first portion of our stay, White Beach Divers. While the accommodations were nothing to write home about (steamy bamboo bunks with little to no air circulation), we were there to party and dive, so it wasn't that important if the price was right.
We ended up diving two days there, and the first day we discovered that diving with a hangover was really not that fun, and it would be best avoided in the future. On the second day, we visited Crocodile island. While it didn't have any actual crocodiles, it had something equally ferocious: the Trigger fish. This fish is extremely territorial and will attack if it or its nest is threatened. I guess I got too close and the fish came straight for me and bit my fins. It was attacking me for what seemed like forever, until I kicked it in the face enough to scare it off.
It was also during this time that we met up again with Craig. He had a similar experience with a trigger fish, only he wasn't as lucky as I was and he was actually bitten by one and it drew blood on his ankle. It has these big buck teeth that really don't look too enjoyable to penetrate your skin.
We also had the pleasure of meeting Tobias, or Toby as he was nicknamed, from Sweden and all of us partied it up on the daily. One night at dinner, we saw Mitch and Dylan, who we had met in Angeles, walking down the beach and our crew had expanded even more!
Our first night with Mitch and Dylan culminated in a wrestling match between Mike and Myself, which I thought I would easily win. Mike, despite his scrawny appearance, actually ended up being quite strong and he beat me pretty easily. We built up the fight, but it was all show and no go on my part.
Station 3 was the most laid-back and quiet portion of White Beach, and after 3 nights, we decided rather than walking a few kilometres towards station 1 and 2 every night, we would just stay at a place closer to the action.
We managed to get a room at station 2's party palace, Frendz Resort and Hostel (www.frendzresortboracay.com). As soon as we checked-in, we felt the instant energy change between the sleepy feel of Station 3, and the frenetic pace of Station 2. Within a few minutes of being there, we met Megan from Toronto and Stephanie from Cali.
As the days past, we ended up amassing a progressively larger crew, including a large contingent of Brits: James, Jack and Jessica, the latter I joined on a trip to Mount Luho, a beautiful lookout point over Boracay.
Most of our days were spent just lounging on the beach and the evenings partying our faces off. All of this was leading up to what would become the most epic party of our stay, if not the entire trip: Mike's 30th birthday celebration.
I took it upon myself to recruit everyone we knew and everyone else who wanted to go to Ariel's Point, the ultimate party spot in Boracay (in my opinion). Ariel's point is a series of cliffs off Buruanga on the island of Panay. What adds to this excursion is that not only is it a booze cruise with a barbecue lunch, but that it also offers kayaking, snorkelling and most importantly, cliff jumping.
So our crew was Mike and myself, Mitch (unfortunately Dylan had to leave earlier and he missed out on this epic day), Craig, Toby, Megan, Stephanie, Bilee (yes that Bilee, she ended up coming down to Boracay as well), Jack, Mira from Germany, Eugene from South Korea, Iwona from Poland and a few others who I lost their names and nationalities in the years that have passed since this epic day.
We all walked along the beach towards Station 1, the ritziest part of white beach and purchased our bracelets for the trip. On the way we passed Boracay's iconic Willy's Rock.
We got on the boat and proceeded to get our party on almost immediately. It took some time to get each drink because there were so many people on the boat and so few people serving drinks. This was probably a good thing in retrospect seeing as though it was a 5-hour plus all-you-can drink event.
We arrived at Ariel's Point and made our way up some stairs towards the famed cliffs. There were different heights of diving boards and even the shortest one, 3 meters (almost 10 feet) looked pretty daunting at first.
As the drinks continued to flow, so did the liquid courage, and attempts were made at higher and higher diving boards. I was mildly tipsy when I attempted the 8 meter (26 foot) board which provided the most epic jumping pic of the day.
Not only was this an amazingly beautiful location, but the music and food were great. Behind the cliffs was a natural pool that we hung out at when we felt like taking a breather. It was in this pool that I met Jason, a guy from Brunei, who I had convinced to let me stay with him when I would eventually make it there. He said to ask him on couchsurfing and he would accept.
Near the end of the day, my confidence level was at an all-time high (due to booze) and it was time to face the music, aka the highest diving board of the day, the 15m (49 feet) board. As I approached the edge of the plank of wood, I instantly regretted my decision. This was high. Scary high.
I raised my arms above my head and clasped my hands in some sort of prayer and closed my eyes, trying to collect my thoughts and say my last rites. I opened my eyes and decided that it was now or never. Since I would probably never return to this magical setting, and probably wouldn't want to jump off a cliff this high if it wasn't for my progressive intoxication, so I decided that the time was now.
As I jumped off, everything was in slow motion, and as I hit the water, I instantly understood how you could easily break a bone hitting the water at the wrong angle from this height. I managed to survive and escape unscathed, which is always a good thing.
After this, I was on cloud nine. No cloud 10. As we got back on the boat and continued to party on our way back to Boracay, that liquid courage quickly became liquid Valium. By the time we reached station 1, I needed help getting on to the beach. Mike gave my camera to Mira and she captured those epic and embarrassing moments as the birthday boy himself helped me out of the water.
Once back at Frendz, everything was kind of a blur. Surprisingly, even to myself, I came back into full consciousness shortly after and ended up going to bed at 1am or so.
Mike's 30th birthday was the most epic party I have ever attended. I really hope that one day I can have one that rival's his. This is most likely wishful thinking, but one can always dream. Hell, who am I kidding, it felt like that day was my birthday!
