Week 4 - Cebu City and Palawan Island

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 Island

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

Week 3: Bacolod City, Silay City, Mambukal Hotsprings, Dumaguete City, Mabinay Caves, Niludhan Falls, Twin Lakes

Bacolod and Silay Cities

Mum, Greg, Teray and I leave Iloilo City to spend Christmas with my Tita (Auntie) Annie and her family, in Bacolod City, the capital of Negros Occidental. Tita Annie has lived on Negros for decades, overseeing operations of the sugar plantations her family has owned since the beginning of the 20th century. As children, she and Mum played together. These days, she is enjoying retirement.

On arrival at the port, we are met by my cousin Raul Gorres, Teray's brother, a retired automotive parts salesman, and now Tita Annie's diver. Raul has a long history with my family. He was the ringbearer at my parents' wedding and lived with my family until we immigrated to Canada. I remember a vivacious and mischievous playmate who was often at odds with my temperamental grandmother, resulting in beatings with slippers. Today he has two daughters and a grandchild and enjoys going on motorcycling holidays around the country, with friends. His knowledge of the back roads of Negros is remarkable, as we are soon to learn.

Raul drives us to a restaurant where we reunite with Tita Annie, her daughters Susan, Helen, and Mary Jane, and are introduced to Mary Jane's husband, Ricky, and three of their four daughters, Angelina, Alyssa, and Agnes. Their son Alex lives and works in Singapore, while their daughter, Anna, is ill and recovering at home.

It's been, at least, 30 years since I last met Tita Annie, Susan, Helen, and Mary Jane. It seems only yesterday, though, when my sister, Maria, and I, along with Teray, used to play with the three sisters and their older brother, George. Despite the obvious physical changes that accompany time, it is reassuring to know that more meaningful aspects of the human experience change very little, and we can carry on where we last left off.

Over a meal of fried chicken and salad, we bring each other up to speed on our lives, with much of the conversation focusing on Mary Jane's children. Greg and I are struck by how 'North American' their English sounds, partly, we presume, the result of attending good schools and the avid reading of English novels. Alyssa, in particular, seems remarkably well read. We are also struck by how artistically inclined they are. The eldest daughter, Anna, for instance, is studying fine arts and has lived in Italy and Spain.

Ricky and Mary Jane, in contrast to conventional Filipino middle- and upper-class households, which employ housemaids and nannies, have raised their children and run their household on their own. The result is that family members have learned to be both domestically, intellectually, and emotionally independent, which could explain their daughters' highly individualistic personalities.

Susan, Tita Annie's eldest, introduces Greg and me to her husband, Benny, a former Catholic priest. Both are teachers at La Salle Secondary School in Manila. Over the next three days, Susan and Benny act as our cultural and historical guides, who, along with Raul and Teray, accompany us on tours around Bacolod City, Silay City, and Mambukal Springs. We are impressed with their extensive knowledge of (especially local) Filipino culture and history. Helen, the middle daughter runs a successful cake making and decorating business. During our tour around the city, we note how many people - her clients - stop her on the street, to chat.

After lunch the party heads over to Mary Jane and Ricky's home, which, along with Tita Annie's, is in a gated community. Greg and I are struck by how, in contrast to Filipino homes we have so far seen - in Manila, Iloilo, and the country side - these homes are very Western in their design, materials, and function, with large plots and extensive gardens.  Alyssa introduces us to their two rambunctious huskies. Over delicious, freshly-squeezed fruit juice, we chat about property ownership in the Philippines, especially that of the upper classes, from an historical context.

Ricky, scion of a sugar-growing family, the Lacsons, wants to preserve the family hacienda by obtaining historical property status for it. His cousins, however, are currently opposed to this designation as it would entail extensive repairs and opening the property up to the public, something they are not prepared to do. Ricky worries about the property's physical state.

Obtaining the family's permission, he takes us on a tour of the hundred year old property (located in the middle of sugar cane fields), which, despite its dereliction reflects a beauty in design - the precise placement of windows and balconies that facilitate cross breezes - and materials - the wide-planked hardwood floors and ironwork. We relish the opportunity of seeing this historical gem, since we're probably some of the few 'outsiders' allowed to do so.

Highlights of this tour include the effective use of windows and shutters, which, in the days prior to air conditioning, allowed control of temperature and protection from monsoon rains. Balconies and inner courtyards facilitated indoor-outdoor living. Ricky, for one, remembers enjoying hours of basketball playing, after setting up a net in one of the upper floor courtyards. That net, now tattered, is still there.

Touring Bacolod City and its surroundings was only part of our visit. Given that today is Christmas Eve day, celebrating it is another priority. The family reconvened after midnight mass to eat and open presents. These include T-shirts from Canada and organic cosmetics from a non-profit organization for the poor and homeless, of which Ricky and Mary Jane are members. There is much discussion over the huge gulf between the rich and poor, in the Philippines. (Days later, Greg and I also speculate on how life in a gated community must perpetuate the binary of living in parallel but separate realities, as a result of the large gap between the rich and poor, one that is even more obvious here than in Canada). Ricky claims that much of this is attributable to decades of government corruption, which siphoned off billions of public money, for private use, but which is now being stemmed by the current government of the country, headed by Corazon Aquino's son, Benigno. 

Christmas Day dawns rainy. We are receiving the peripheral effects of tropical storm Quinta, though these aren't severe. Raul even manages to drive Susan, Benny, Teray, Greg and me to the local museum and two more heritage homes in Silay City (to add to one we visited yesterday). Silay is part of the Bacolod metropolitan area and became a major sugar-producing centre when a Frenchman, Yves Leopold Germain Gaston, established a sugar mill and permanently settled there, in the mid-nineteenth century. Others became prosperous in Negros's sugar boom, resulting in Silay becoming an international port city. We visit three heritage homes in the city - Hofilena Ancestral Home, Balay Negrense Museum, and Bernardino Jalandoni Ancestral House. Characteristic of all three homes are the deep eaves, countless windows with separate lower vents, central open spaces bordered by smaller rooms, and large kitchen spaces in back. Such design considerations take into account the tropical climate, facilitating cross breezes and protection from heavy rain. Original furniture of the colonial period, together with those from the French Art Deco period, are equally as impressive.

The last site we visit is The Ruins, remnants of a once-magnificent Italianate-style mansion. Built in the early twentieth century by sugar baron Don Mariano Ledesma Lacson, it is actually made of concrete, manually poured, and located in the middle of sugar cane fields. (We arrive after a 25-minute long drive over a frightfully gutted dirt road). The ruin affords views of the surrounding countryside and seems, even today, out of place, given its luxurious design. But it was built at a time when the ruling classes lived on and managed their own lands, ensuring their successful cultivation and where they would have supervised a large number of workers. Later, wealthy landowners had homes built in the city, once urban living became more fashionable. Given Don Mariano's wealth, the mansion was said to have housed some of the finest antiques and decorative pieces, from abroad. It was razed in WWII by the Americans, to prevent Japanese soldiers from using it as a base. Today, despite its relative inaccessibility, the mansion is a popular tourist destination and venue for weddings and other social gatherings.

Click here to see Bacolod and Silay Cities Slideshow

Mambukal Hot Springs Resort 

On December 26th, Greg and I drive with Raul, Teray and assorted members of the Gorres clan to Mambukal Hot Springs Resort, the point of entry into Mount Kanlaon National Park; the mountain is a still-active volcano. The skies continue to be overcast, remnants of yesterday's tropical storm. The gloomy, rainy weather has its advantages, though: it is cooler and less sticky than usual. It also provides some dramatic scenery as, making our way up to the park, we witness low-lying clouds scud across the wide open skies, rolling hills, and farmlands.

Mambukal (meaning boiling water in the local dialect) Hot Springs Resort was created in the 1920s by Japanese architect Kokichi (Paul) Ishiwata who wanted a way to maintain the Japanese custom of hot springs bathing. One of Mambukal's greatest appeals is its naturalistic setting. The hot springs, for one, is in an area surrounded by lush forests populated by thousands of fruit bats that sweep in large groups, from one area of trees to another. In addition to the bats, Mount Kanlaon National Park is home to several, near-extinct wildlife, including the civet cat, leopard, hawk eagle, and bleeding heart pigeon. Several tributaries run within the park, ending in seven separate waterfalls.

Greg, two of the young girls, and I eagerly take to the therapeutic pools, whose temperatures average about 37 degrees celsius. The heady aroma of tropical rainforest and sulfuric springs, along with the songs of what seems like multiple species of tropical birds, make for a relaxing experience. Greg, who suffers from mild psoriasis, revels in the therapeutic waters. The rest of the group opt to walk around the resort, looking for a suitable place to have a merienda (a light meal or snack). The paths up to the volcano's summit have been closed due to the weather, which is disappointing, because a short hike up to one of the falls, was one of today's anticipated activities.

After a time, the group reconvenes and indulges in drinks and desserts. I have my first halo-halo (a popular Filipino dessert consisting of shaved ice, scoops of ice cream, tapioca, sugar palm fruit [kaong], coconut sport [macapuno], and caramelized jack fruit, among others, all submerged under a layer of evaporated milk), in 30 years. It was a refreshing ending to the hot dip. After dessert, the group drives through other parts of the resort, before heading home, and joining the rest of the family for a bon voyage dinner, at a Korean-Japanese fusion restaurant at Robinson's, a mall in downtown Bacolod.

Click here to see Mambukal Hot Springs Resort Slideshow

Dumaguete City, Negros Oriental

 

It's Thursday, December 27th, our last day in Bacolod. In the late morning, Greg and I head to the southeast corner of Negros (to Negros Oriental), for a three-day tour of Dumaguete City and its environs, while Mom and Teray fly to a resort on Bohol, an island east of Negros. We will reunite in Cebu, on New Year's Eve day.

After another arduous six-hour bus ride, albeit taking in some breath taking views of forests, rice fields, and the sea, we arrive in Dumaguete City, founded in the late 16th century by Spanish conquistadors. Its name means 'to snatch', a reference to the marauding pirates that frequented the port city in its early history. It was the Americans who, in 1901, established a government there and who, in WWII, restored order after the Japanese occupation of the city. They also established the first private Protestant university in Asia. Silliman University was established in 1901, first as an elementary school, and today comprises several colleges, schools, and institutes.

 

After checking into our hotel, Greg and I wander the streets. It is early evening and the sun has already started setting. Despite that, the temperatures are still high. We combat the mugginess by heading to the promenade along Rizal Boulevard, which fronts the Tanon Strait. The air here is fresher and cooler and we perk up at the number of restaurants and bars with lively music issuing from them. We enter a Mexican restaurant where we are seated close to the bar. Here, we take in the middle-aged White men milling about drinking and chatting up the young Filipina servers. We roll our eyes at each other, but notice a similar pattern throughout the city, over the next few days. Dumaguete, we are later told has a significant North American, British, and Australian expat community - mainly men of a certain age  - attracted to the breezy, affordable lifestyle, and exotic young Filipinas with whom 'dates' - and even marriages - are easily had.

As with other seaside cities, much activity takes place along the waterfront in Dumaguete. A seemingly unique feature is the number of vendors selling 'balut' - boiled eggs containing chicken or duck embryos eaten with salt and beer. Entire open air seating areas, scintillating with activity, have been set up to accommodate the enjoyment of this delicacy, by the sea. Greg and I admire the buzz, but return to the hotel, for an early night. It has been a long day.

The next day, after a too-expensive 'western' breakfast of bacon and eggs, we walk along the waterfront. The cool ocean breeze seems no match for the sultry heat, so after taking in a few of the attractions close to the city square -  the 18th century Belfry Tower, the main cathedral of St. Catherine of Alexandria - we seek out the local tourist office. As in Manila, we sense that the best way to beat the heat is to head out of the city. We do not have much luck finding interesting tours at the city tourist office, so we take a tricycle cab (a motorbike with a side car for hire; regular cabs are illegal in Dumaguete) to the provincial tourist office. Overhearing an animated conversation about local wildlife between two men at the tourist office, we strike up a conversation with both about tours on offer. As it turns out, one of the men, Dave from Devon, England, conducts private tours of Dumaguete and surrounding areas. Having lived in and explored Negros Oriental for over two years, Dave has acquired extensive knowledge of the surrounding countryside and mountains. After advising us on the most interesting sites, we arrange to meet the next day.

Click here to see Dumaguete City Slideshow

Twin Lakes, Negros Oriental

Friday, December 28th is somewhat cooler than the previous day, with a mix of sun and cloud - better weather for an outing involving some hiking and boating. Dave, our tour guide, fetches us at 8:30 and we head 20 km northwest of Dumaguete. 

Along the way, Dave regales us with stories about his two years living in Dumaguete and married to a local. Typical of an expat at the end of the honeymoon phase of living abroad, he's critical about some of the Filipino cultural idiosyncrasies and conventions, including the cuisine (an emphasis on rice and processed food from the west, resulting in increased obesity rates); what he regards as the unsafe practice of driving motorbikes at breakneck speeds, without helmets, mirrors, or horns, and often with two or three family members and a live pig (an inevitable meal) on-board; and the blatant cronyism in government, including kickbacks for politicos. He intends to visit Devon in the new year, for a break.

Driving up some steep and inconsistently paved roads (apparently, inconsistencies reflect differences in political influence as those areas represented by 'strong' politicians have their roads paved), we arrive at the entrance of a national park within which lie the Twin Lakes of Balinsasayao and Danao. Both are small but very deep freshwater lakes, a thousand feet above sea level, separated by a small mountain ridge and ringed by four mountains. The lush and virgin forests in this area contain some rare flora and fauna, including various types of orchid, spotted deer, monkeys, and the Visayan warty pig.

There are two well-maintained observation decks that offer spectacular views of the lakes from two vantage points. We spend some time at one, on whose grounds a rare and enormous boa constrictor was recently spotted (I forewarn a friendly stray pooch who seems to take this news in stride) and then hire a boat to paddle to the other side of the lake. A young female paddler from the local village accompanies us on our lake tour. Tourism now make up the majority of villagers' income, where farming and fishing once did. We all take turns paddling on stunningly blue Lake Balinsasayao where the waters are currently calm and enormous clouds scurry by. Dave forewarns that the weather can turn without notice, as a result of our high altitude. We cross our fingers, but are too engrossed in the spectacular scenery to care much. It takes us 20 minutes to reach the ridge that separates the lakes, and where we climb up the second observation deck.

We are greeted by a cacophony of birdsong that complements the impressive views of Lake Danoa. But it is the forest we head into that elicits much awe. It is lush and dense, comprised of old growth trees with thick trunks wound up with creeping vines. There are few flowers, but the variety of leaves and their generally enormous size are impressive. In addition to the call of various bird species are scores of insects, flitting and buzzing about. Greg and I are feeling a little disconcerted at the increasing number of mosquitoes, as we make our way deeper into the woods. We have read about malaria being on the rise in certain parts of the country, but were unsure about whether these included the Twin Lakes. The humidity rises and with it the density of the forest. Out of necessity, we look down at our feet more often, carefully navigating around gnarled branches and fallen trees, slick with moisture. Dave - in no more than flip flops - advises that we look out for venomous snakes and spiders lurking in fallen, hollowed branches. Being nocturnal, they won't be active at this time, but will attack, if surprised. Both snakes and spiders have keen senses, especially for movement, so one can't be too careful. With our anxiety growing, we head back to the boat, which was just as well. By now, the humidity is becoming unbearable and our rising body temperature is attracting more mosquitoes and other insects. After twenty minutes, we once again hear the familiar birdsong and glimpse the observation deck, just ahead. We encounter another group of hikers, whose Filipino guide smile at us, in welcome.

Back at the boat, we push off and head over to another part of Lake Balinsasayao. Dave wants to show us a small but picturesque waterfall, and we are always up for more sightseeing. As we cross the lake, the clouds seem even more enormous and lower than earlier. Dave claims that this is normal, for the time of day (11:00 am), so there is no need for concern. On the brighter side, the clouds, in their close proximity, are beautiful, emanating small rainbows at their edges, as they pass. 

On reaching the other side of the lake, we disembark. In contrast to those we have just left, these woods are less dense. Clearly, some agriculture has taken place on these shores, if the grove of banana trees nearby is any indication. Also close to shore, we hear the babbling of a brook, which we follow to its source: a medium sized water fall. The sound of the water is calming and the air surrounding it is cool and refreshing. I feel less anxious about spiders and snakes as there seems less for them to hide in or behind. We are quiet and contemplative, for a time. 

On the return journey, we pass more closely the banks on the opposite side of the lake to where we'd been. As with the forest on the banks of Lake Danoa, this one is very dense. We can barely see into it, for all the trees and their broad leaves. I wonder what exotic, terrifying animals must live in its confines, ready to attack unsuspecting, pesky tourists.

Back at home base, we chat with the locals who operate the boat tours. Like many of the other attractions on Negros Oriental, they were once farmers, but have now turned entrepreneurs, seduced by the increasing tourist trade, proud of their roots and connection to these lands. Where once they had suffered from the toll of climate changes on their crops, they are, once again, self-sufficient. Despite my apprehension about their new-found source of living, I cannot help but be impressed by their resilience and optimism.

Our visit to the Twin Lakes was capped off by a relaxing merienda. Driving back to the main highway, we stop at a cafe, perched on the side of a cliff. It offered great food and drink, along with some of the most spectacular mountain scenery we've seen all day. The green shade of the dense forest changed from deep emerald to chartreuse, depending on whether it was in direct sunlight or not, and a narrow river wended its way at the mountains' base. We were mesmerized, not only by the forest's colour, but also by the sheer height of our perch. The cafe's capacious balconies offered multiple perspectives, enticing us to stay, relax, and enjoy the scenery. 

Click here to see Twin Lakes Slideshow

Mabinay Caves, Negros Oriental

On our last full day in Dumaguete City, we once again, head for the hills with Dave, this time to the famous Mabinay Caves, about two hours west and inland. Our final destination, however, is  Niludhan Falls, about 45 minutes north of the Mabinay Caves. The caves are part of a complex of over 400 caves, each ranging in degree of difficulty for spelunking from beginner to extreme. The longest one is the Odloman Cave, at 8.7 km long. We opt for the most accessible - Crystal Cave - with its metal walkways and electric lighting. This cave has earned its name well, consisting of giant, sparkling stalactites and stalagmites and hosting the big-eared horseshoe bat, tailless scorpion, swift, and the most enormous black spiders we've ever seen - one, a female, dragging an enormous egg sack.

The temperature in the cave is cool but humid and eerily quiet, with the steady but slow drops of water from the stalactites, forming stalagmites, on the cave floor. Variations considered, these grow at an average rate of .13 mm/year. The artificial lighting varies the illumination in the cave, from gold to ice blue, creating a sparkling, wintery landscape, with the flying bats and swifts adding a slightly sinister tone to the scene.

Niludhan Falls, Negros Oriental

An hour later, we are heading for Niludhan Falls, further into the interior, with the climb becoming steeper as we continue. Along the way, we stop to take in the incredible vistas, looking back towards the Bohol Sea, a combination of patch-worked rice paddies and towering palm trees, their attenuated fronds weaving delicately in the breeze. Also along the way, we pass tiny villages, consisting of barely a dozen buildings, with tiny stands lining the road, selling everything from fruit to sweets. We wonder how the merchants make their living, given the few who travel up here. Dave says the Falls' reputation is spreading, thanks, to the Web; so, traffic is increasing.

Arriving at the end of a nondescript patch of dirt road (no wonder there aren't more crowds; any indication of the Falls' location is non-existent), we hear the increasing thunder of rushing water. Clearly, one has to know where the Falls are, in order to know where the foot path to it lies. We climb down some well-maintained concrete steps and as the forest thins, the Falls gradually come into view. And what a sight they are! The ideal height and width and collecting into the most emerald green pool we've ever seen. We quickly change and carefully clamber over rocks, for a swim. These are treacherous, covered in the filmiest, virtually invisible moss. One misstep and one could dash one's head on the sharp rocks. Several times, I come close to doing so. The effort is worth it, though, as we are treated to the freshest, cleanest swim we have had on the trip, so far.

After three days in this part of Negros, we can look back on some of the most memorable excursions to some of the most spectacular natural settings, in the country. We now look forward to our tour of Cebu City and the island of Palawan, as the New Year approaches.

Click here to see Mabinay Caves and Niludhan Falls Slideshow