Cebu City
Monday, December 31st, dawns warm and muggy. We awake at 5:00, to catch our 7:30 ferry from Dumaguete City to Cebu City, capital of Cebu Province. We are rendezvous-ing with Mum and Teray there, for a one-day trip, after which the four of us will head to Palawan. Mum and Teray have spent the last four days in Bohol, another island province, just east of Cebu.
Cebu is the oldest city in the Philippines, and was originally occupied by Hindus, after a rogue prince of the Indian Chola dynasty established a Rajahnate there, in the 13th century. Subsequently, it fell in the 16th century when Portuguese explorer Fedinand Magellan established a colony, on behalf of Spain. The result of this colourful history is reflected in the city's old architecture, especially its churches, and the diversity of its religions. One of the highlights of our short visit is the Chu Un Buddhist Temple, in downtown Cebu.
We arrive in Cebu at 12:00 noon and spend an inordinate amount of time finding a cab that won't charge an excessive amount to take us to our hotel. We haven't experienced this much difficulty in doing so since Manila. When we arrive at the hotel, we quickly learn why. Its situation, being behind a church, made it difficult to locate, resulting in needless and frustrating meanderings through narrow, shabby neighbourhoods. We tip the driver generously, for the trouble.
Not only is our hotel inconveniently located, it seems to lack basic amenities, such as towels, toilet paper, and toilet seats. On checking out, Mum gives the manager a piece of her mind, and is incredulous after the latter, despite her complaints, entreats Mum to recommend the hotel.
After checking in, Greg and I head over to the square adjacent to one of Cebu's main attractions, the Basilica Minore del Santo Nino, the Philippines' oldest church. First built in 1565, it was burnt down three times, with the latest incarnation built in 1737. Typical of many of the churches we've seen in the Philippines, the exterior of the Basilica dates to the distant past, but the interiors are from the 1950s or 60s. This being New Year's Eve day, the worshiping crowds are large, which, when combined with the hordes of tourists, makes for an uncomfortable visit. We shorten our stay and head, instead, to the market area, to find something to quench our thirst.
The heat and humidity are unbearable and we're eager to find respite. We head to the Casa Gorordo Museum, a former private home built in the mid-19th century by one of the city's elite families, and now containing antiques and memorabilia from another age. It's small and in a quiet neighbourhood: an ideal spot for cooling off, away from the crowds. Disappointingly, though not surprisingly, it is closed, for the holidays.
On recommendation from the cab driver, we head over to the Ayala Center, a replica of the Greenbelt Mall we visited in Makati, Manila. This will be our shelter from the oppressive heat. Greg and I aren't fans of malls, but this one, as the one in Makati had been, is wonderfully designed, balancing indoor with outdoor spaces. There are numerous patios and moderately interesting shops. As we have a few hours to spare before meeting Mum and Teray back at the hotel, Greg and I hang out at the book shops and down gallons of fruit juice. We try to find a decent movie at the mall cinema, but are dismayed by the seeming dross - dreadful romantic comedies - on offer.
Hours later, weary of the mall's inanity, we reunite with Mum and Teray, who would have arrived from Bohol. We exchange adventure stories and prepare to head out to bring in the New Year. Earlier, at the Ayala Center, Greg and I happen upon pamphlets advertising New Year Celebrations at the adjacent Radisson Hotel. The tickets, though a bit steep, include appetizers and wine. The dreariness of our hotel rooms compels us to spend the money; so, we put on our party clothes and head back downtown.
The event is unexceptional, but we do share the excitement of New Year's celebrations, in affluent Filipino style, meaning lots of exotic food and drink; overly thin, overdressed women accompanied by significantly older, reptilian men; two live jazz bands; and well-landscaped outdoor spaces complete with pools, manicured tall grasses, and well-placed ambient lighting. We turn in well after 3 am.
New Year's Day, as the last few days, dawns sunny and humid. Our flight to Palawan is at noon, so we rise early and find a place to have a quick, economical breakfast. There's none to be had at this time, on this day. Even the McDonald's won't open until 11:00 am. Our cab driver suggests hotels, which are all serving New Year's Day brunches. We hesitate, having spend a lot the previous night, but given the lack of options, we assent, and find ourselves at the Sheraton.
The buffet brunch is typical of what we, North Americans, are used to: bacon and eggs, pancakes, waffles, and endless tropical fruit selections. The service, on the other hand, is shoddy, remarkable for an upscale hotel. Several people attempt to take our orders, at different times, even after they had been taken, and orders arrive either incomplete or in error. Greg surmises effects are partly due to a largely untrained staff who are poorly paid, have no rights, no benefits, and are turned over every six months. How appalling that people in the many sectors of the service and retail industry here can never hope for a permanent job. Australians in the same industry, in contrast, have a high minimum wage rate (AUS $16.00/hour, in 2010) and, if working full time, can actually make a living from their jobs.
The brunch is delicious, but we must move on, so we head to the Lapu-Lapu and Magellan Monuments and linger at the Chu Un Buddhist Temple, for a time, before catching our flight to Palawan, for the last leg of our Philippines trip.
Click here to see Cebu City Slideshow
Palawan IslandCebu is the oldest city in the Philippines, and was originally occupied by Hindus, after a rogue prince of the Indian Chola dynasty established a Rajahnate there, in the 13th century. Subsequently, it fell in the 16th century when Portuguese explorer Fedinand Magellan established a colony, on behalf of Spain. The result of this colourful history is reflected in the city's old architecture, especially its churches, and the diversity of its religions. One of the highlights of our short visit is the Chu Un Buddhist Temple, in downtown Cebu.
We arrive in Cebu at 12:00 noon and spend an inordinate amount of time finding a cab that won't charge an excessive amount to take us to our hotel. We haven't experienced this much difficulty in doing so since Manila. When we arrive at the hotel, we quickly learn why. Its situation, being behind a church, made it difficult to locate, resulting in needless and frustrating meanderings through narrow, shabby neighbourhoods. We tip the driver generously, for the trouble.
Not only is our hotel inconveniently located, it seems to lack basic amenities, such as towels, toilet paper, and toilet seats. On checking out, Mum gives the manager a piece of her mind, and is incredulous after the latter, despite her complaints, entreats Mum to recommend the hotel.
After checking in, Greg and I head over to the square adjacent to one of Cebu's main attractions, the Basilica Minore del Santo Nino, the Philippines' oldest church. First built in 1565, it was burnt down three times, with the latest incarnation built in 1737. Typical of many of the churches we've seen in the Philippines, the exterior of the Basilica dates to the distant past, but the interiors are from the 1950s or 60s. This being New Year's Eve day, the worshiping crowds are large, which, when combined with the hordes of tourists, makes for an uncomfortable visit. We shorten our stay and head, instead, to the market area, to find something to quench our thirst.
The heat and humidity are unbearable and we're eager to find respite. We head to the Casa Gorordo Museum, a former private home built in the mid-19th century by one of the city's elite families, and now containing antiques and memorabilia from another age. It's small and in a quiet neighbourhood: an ideal spot for cooling off, away from the crowds. Disappointingly, though not surprisingly, it is closed, for the holidays.
On recommendation from the cab driver, we head over to the Ayala Center, a replica of the Greenbelt Mall we visited in Makati, Manila. This will be our shelter from the oppressive heat. Greg and I aren't fans of malls, but this one, as the one in Makati had been, is wonderfully designed, balancing indoor with outdoor spaces. There are numerous patios and moderately interesting shops. As we have a few hours to spare before meeting Mum and Teray back at the hotel, Greg and I hang out at the book shops and down gallons of fruit juice. We try to find a decent movie at the mall cinema, but are dismayed by the seeming dross - dreadful romantic comedies - on offer.
Hours later, weary of the mall's inanity, we reunite with Mum and Teray, who would have arrived from Bohol. We exchange adventure stories and prepare to head out to bring in the New Year. Earlier, at the Ayala Center, Greg and I happen upon pamphlets advertising New Year Celebrations at the adjacent Radisson Hotel. The tickets, though a bit steep, include appetizers and wine. The dreariness of our hotel rooms compels us to spend the money; so, we put on our party clothes and head back downtown.
The event is unexceptional, but we do share the excitement of New Year's celebrations, in affluent Filipino style, meaning lots of exotic food and drink; overly thin, overdressed women accompanied by significantly older, reptilian men; two live jazz bands; and well-landscaped outdoor spaces complete with pools, manicured tall grasses, and well-placed ambient lighting. We turn in well after 3 am.
New Year's Day, as the last few days, dawns sunny and humid. Our flight to Palawan is at noon, so we rise early and find a place to have a quick, economical breakfast. There's none to be had at this time, on this day. Even the McDonald's won't open until 11:00 am. Our cab driver suggests hotels, which are all serving New Year's Day brunches. We hesitate, having spend a lot the previous night, but given the lack of options, we assent, and find ourselves at the Sheraton.
The buffet brunch is typical of what we, North Americans, are used to: bacon and eggs, pancakes, waffles, and endless tropical fruit selections. The service, on the other hand, is shoddy, remarkable for an upscale hotel. Several people attempt to take our orders, at different times, even after they had been taken, and orders arrive either incomplete or in error. Greg surmises effects are partly due to a largely untrained staff who are poorly paid, have no rights, no benefits, and are turned over every six months. How appalling that people in the many sectors of the service and retail industry here can never hope for a permanent job. Australians in the same industry, in contrast, have a high minimum wage rate (AUS $16.00/hour, in 2010) and, if working full time, can actually make a living from their jobs.
The brunch is delicious, but we must move on, so we head to the Lapu-Lapu and Magellan Monuments and linger at the Chu Un Buddhist Temple, for a time, before catching our flight to Palawan, for the last leg of our Philippines trip.
Click here to see Cebu City Slideshow
Located west of Cebu, the island of Palawan is the least populated of the Philippine Islands, but arguably the most captivating. Life is much more laid back here than anywhere we've been in the Philippines, and, being a mere sliver of land running for 650 km, its connection to the sea is the strongest. The most popular activities are diving, snorkelling, and island-hopping.
Our trip from Cebu City arrives in Puerto Pricesa, Palawan's capital, in mid-afternoon, New Year's Day, giving us time to relax and prepare for our island tours, which don't get under way until the next day. We arrive at our accommodation, a B&B operated by people Mum knows. Unexpectedly, the house is located in the city, not close to a beach, as would have been our preference. Despite this minor disappointment, we make do by exploring the surrounding neighbourhood.
We nap prior to taking a tricycle cab over to Robinson's Mall (these must be all over the country), for dinner. We have chicken, prepared North American style, at a Swiss Chalet-like restaurant. Looking around, we're struck by how similar the malls here are to the ones back home, a result, I suppose, of all things American that Filipinos associate with affluence and cool, and hence, emulate. We, on the other hand, find nothing appealing about the growing Americanization of other countries, due to its overemphasis on over-consumption and materialism.
During the following two days, we take in the many sights and activities of Palawan. Our tour, consisting of twelve tourists, starts with a long mini-bus ride north of the capital, to the Puerta Princesa Underground River National Park. Our guide, a young man who'd spent time in Australia, was highly informative about the sights and attentive to our needs. Leaving our mini-bus behind, the group walks along the beach at Sabang Bay, to a boat launch where we climb into small pontoon boats and paddle into a mangrove forest. It's only about 9:30 but already the heat is uncomfortable. Mum's worried about its intensity, to which she's yet to become accustomed, but she's determined to cope. Thankfully, the mangrove forest, being moderately dense, provides lots of natural shade.
The dappled light is lovely. We marvel at the stillness of the air and the exotic birds, along the banks. Our guide points up at a snake curled up on a tree branch, napping or waiting for its prey. We pray it doesn't accidentally fall into our boat. Having never been to a mangrove forest before, I'm fascinated by the root systems of the trees and shrubs, which seem to push them up from and out of the water. The water, unlike that in the sea, seems darker, but this could be because of the high organic content and sediment of the water, which facilitates this type of forest. After a time, one of our two paddlers disembarks and disappears into the forest, to return with some fresh tamilok, a worm-like mollusk found in rotting mangrove roots. It's a delicacy in Palawan and, like oysters, is eaten raw. I pass on the invitation to partake. Slimy and about twelve inches long, tamilok is visually unappetizing.
Walking back to homebase on Sabang Bay, we pass, along the beach, a young fellow with his tame boa constrictor and bear cat. The latter is particularly friendly and adorable, with it thick pre-hensile tail and pink toes. It resembles a touchable porcupine and is largely found in South and South-East Asia. We have lunch, and resume our tour, this time exploring the Puerto Princesa Underground River. After a 30-minute boat ride, we walk through another forest to a small bay where more boats await to transport dozens of tourists. It's both eerie and exciting to be in the cave, which is eight kilometres in length (we only see 3 kilometres of it), and eventually empties into the South China Seas. Recent discoveries include a 900 ft. cave dome, awe-inspiring with its giant stalactites hanging down from its ceiling. Our guides point out how many of these resemble the Virgin Mary and angels, which incites gasps. Non-human creatures include thousands of giant bats and water snakes, curled up on stalagmites, as well as sifts and the whip spider. Walking back to the boats that will take us back to Sabang Bay, we encounter more creatures, including large monitor lizards and long-tailed macaques. Both species are endemic to this part of Palawan and co-exist harmoniously, the macaques filching food or bags from unsuspecting tourists, with a fierce snarl in retort, when reprimanded.
Returning to the B&B, we eat in this evening, due to fatigue. The next day, we once again, board the minibus and head to Honda Bay, where we clamber onto larger pontoon boats for an island-hopping tour. The first stop is a man-made floating island consisting of a series of docks. Here, those interested in snorkeling spend 45 minutes doing so, under supervision of some very fit instructors. Next, we head over to an island beach for some swimming and exploring. Mum and Teray enjoy paddling about in the refreshing waters. Our last stop is Cowie Island, where we lunch and explore for the next two hours. Walking around, I snap photos of strange and wonderful flora, including detritus from the sea, and more swamp plants.
As the weather turns more ominous, we cut short our tour and head home. Nearing the B&B, Greg and I disembark from the mini-bus, to use an ATM, assuring everyone we'd make our own way home from there. Being close to the side road that leads to the B&B, we don't think it would take us long to walk back. We couldn't have been more wrong. For some reason, and despite a straightforward route and being alert to our surroundings, we manage to lose our way, and end up walking for over 30 minutes. We flag down a tricycle cab, but after driving only a few metres, he politely tells us to get out. Bewildered, we comply, supposing he didn't think it was long enough a drive to make the trip worthwhile. He refuses our offer of more money, leaving us to find our way back, on foot.
As with other places in the Philippines, we remark at how vehicle-centric the roads are. Being a pedestrian is a dangerous position to be in as there are very few sidewalks and what there is is very narrow. One has to be alert at all times for vehicles running red lights or turning without pausing. Having been largely passengers throughout this trip, playing the role of pedestrian, even in less populated areas, we realize what a different perspective one has, which could explain why we missed our turn off, in the first place. We hadn't been accustomed to seeing it, on foot.
A tropical storm that continues all night, and knocks out power, wakes us when the emergency lights are activated. The steady rainfall is surprisingly calming and reminds me of similar ones in my childhood, in Iloilo, in which my siblings and I frolicked.
The next day is bright and humid. The tour continues, but Greg and I opt out, since it would focus mainly on shopping. Instead, we explore the side road on which our B&B is situated. At a leisurely pace, we take in a variety of buildings, some quite posh while others are run-down. Surprising is a mosque, painted in pastel shades, its Filipino imams loitering on the street, sporting beards and white robes. Next door is a what appears to be a dilapidated home, with young children playing in the street, in various states of undress. The juxtaposition between the two scenarios - one depicting poverty, the other relative affluence - is remarkable.
The road ends more quickly than we anticipate, and the heat has intensified, so we take a tricycle cab over to Robinson's Mall, to cool off and kill some time before our return flight to Manila. On arriving, the four of us check into a modest hotel in Malate. Mum is off to Australia, for a week, so she and Teray prepare for that trip, while Greg and I, over the next two days, take in more of the neighbourhood, even staying later at the same club we'd visited when we first arrived in the country. On our final night, we wanted to ensure our last activity would be just as memorable as the rest.
Click here to see Palawan Island Slideshow
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