Into the great muck open

Our hotel in the morning

Waking up at 6 is bliss when you have a full day of diving ahead of you. Although my day started off on the wrong foot when I did not get my fried banana for breakfast. The floating Dragon Inn Hotel we're staying (which is an exceptional value for its novelty and copy-the-luxury-at-almost-backpacker-price) does not have a big breakfast to start off with. Coffee, toast and a fried banana. So when I heard from the waitresses “Sorreee sir. Still cooking” after thirty minutes, I got pretty miffed. No one separates Bart from his food, even from a fried banana. Gimme my fried banana bitch!

Big John's was closed when we showed up at 7:30. Apparently polychronic attitude to time is common in all hot tropical countries. The girl showed up at the shop near 8 and we went through some of the bureaucratic procedures, the main one being me paying the remainder of our fee for diving. Our divemaster, Usman, who came highly recommended from diving forums showed up late as well. Very nice guy, although despite being an English teacher, I could barely understand a word he was saying. We picked up some partial equipment for our dives today and got on a boat to Mabul. After an hour of speedboating across the sea, captained by a 16-year old boy, we arrived at a budget dive resort and our base of operations for today. Although Mabul is nicer than Semporna, the nicest dive resorts cost an arm and a leg and only come in packages. And this one was a budget one, which meant... pretty much crap. I have to say that my decision to stay in Dragon Inn was a spot-on winner.

Boats going somewhere but probably not diving

I'm not going to go on describing every dive today, for I did that on the blog from the Philippines. Just to say: TURTLE BONANZA. On our three dives today we say about 20 different green turtles, from baby ones to massive adults (probably over a hundred years old). Nudibranchs, frog fish, one baraccuda, two stingrays (congrats to my hon for the good eyes), sea spiders, crabs, giant shrimp and a countless number of schooling pelagic fish of the smaller variety (not even counting the small stuff). Having said that, the reef is mostly dead. And this is a tragedy. I read in Sipadan almost 95% is still alive, here in Mabul and Kapalai, the number is closer to 25%. Visibility was bad, with tons of sea snow floating around, the ground pretty muddied up, but all in all these were three great dives. In between we grabbed some lunch at the resort which was included in the price. Although Krysia wasn't happy that her lunch was looking at her (fish with a head).

Evening presented us with another problem: money running out and we need some for the next couple of days, but unfortunately the exchange is closed, we're leaving tomorrow morning into the jungle. Great. We'll have to think of something. So after dinner we went back home to think of things and here I am on the computer. Goodnight.

Monkey see, monkey don't see

Our driver was waiting as promised at 5 in the morning. My wifey's really improved her getting up and getting ready ability when she is forced to do so. I guess maybe the occasional bitching that she got earlier on is working (okay... I'm asking for a beating here, I know honey). Kota Kinabalu airport is absolutely charming. An example of modern, open, industrial architecture mixed with Islamic and Malay elements just fits. After a quick check-in we had plenty of time to grab breakfast before the flight. There wasn't anything open yet, except for “billions served” restaurant. Just to report that Egg & Sausage McMuffin tastes the same in Malaysia as it does in Poland, the US or anywhere else around the world. I was thinking that perhaps due to halal rules the sausage wouldn't have pork, but instead lamb, beef or chicken, but it didn't. Standard pork patty.

Yesterday I booked our tickets to Tawau on Malaysian Airlines: a traditional carrier. Surprise, surprise: they had a sale. For 99 RM the tickets were only ten percent more expensive than the ten and a half hour bus, so it was no contest. We would save a whole day worth of traveling. We took off into the sky over Sabah's lush, green rainforests. After a short, peaceful hour-long flight we touched down on the eastern coast of Borneo.

A stressful situation for Kris happened right upon landing. While I went out looking for a bus to Semporna, she decided to nip out to the loo. Lo and behold, everyone left the airport and the door was closed behind her. Five minutes: no darling wife. Ten minutes: no tardy wife, and the first bus has already left. Fifteen minutes: no annoyingly late missus, and I'm having to convince the bus driver to stay and wait for us while I go look for her. What do I see? Krysia standing inside of the airport behind closed doors looking very unhappy. Finally the door was opened for her and we jumped on the bus. An hour later we were in Semporna.

In front of Dragon Inn

The driver dropped us off at the Dragon Inn, which interestingly enough was one of the places I considered staying in. Leaving Kris with our luggage I went to check out potential diving and accommodations and it turned out that there was nothing nicer and a better value than the hotel we were standing in front. A simple, wooden room with a bathroom, A/C and TV in a floating hotel which was emulating the exorbitantly priced resorts on Kapalai or Mabul. Charming, absolutely charming at only 77 RM (about $25 per night). Choice was made, now was time to look for diving options. I was dead set on Scuba Junkies, but read wonderful reviews about Big John Scuba which was located just next door. With all the Sipadan diving permits gone for the next few weeks, we might as well go with the convenient and well reviewed shop. Tomorrow we would have an intensive 3-dive day.

Semporna: a gateway to Mabul, Kapalai and Sipadan is an apt term, since you can't get to the islands from anywhere else. But if has this magical ring to it, as in Semporna itself is magical. Honestly, it isn't. The place is horribly smelly and dirty, although not so loud as we're used to in Asia. Our Dragon Inn is absolutely the nicest place not just in terms of accommodations, but also in terms of esthetics. The rest of the town is a muddy, smelly shithole. Not just that, it is filled with strolling, tired looking backpackers, usually just gathering in the same bar for an expensive drink and even more expensive international food.

Which started me thinking: I did the backpacker circuit for a couple of years on three continents so I understand the draw of it: inexpensive travel, meeting other backpackers, having someone to eat with, often someone to sleep with. Almost ten years later, I'm reexamining the whole idea. What's the point of staying in absolutely dingy accommodations with five other, often unwashed, roommates just to save a few bucks, when the next minute you're wasting that money on spaghetti or beans on toast... in Borneo. What's the point of going place to place and never even meeting a local? True, not that we've done so much socializing so far. Japan was great for both people, my friends and the atmosphere. But Philippines has discouraged us from talking to anyone around, lest we'd be scammed. Yet with my former backpacking experience, I definitely choose a mixture nowadays.

We found a place called Mabul Cafe for some food and drink. Not bad considering the price; Kris really enjoyed her lamb stir fry. With no night dives happening tonight (either due to bad weather or lack of interest) there was a question hanging in the air between us. What the hell do we do today? It's only 2PM, we still have a whole day ahead of us, but outside of going back to our hotel to sleep or eating ourselves to death, there is nothing to do. There are no tourist attractions or places to visit. There is no beach and worse: outside of this one backpacker place, there aren't even any bars here. You're really starting to feel the Islamic culture when (it's Ramadan now) alcohol costs a fortune and there aren't many places even selling it. What to do, what to do?

I remember seeing a website advertising the Borneo Proboscis Monkey tour. Mabul Cafe has free internet, so a quick check confirmed that the tour was on, and it was leaving everyday at 3:30. We had just enough time to catch it if I acted quickly. A booking place was just outside of the cafe and after quick negotiations for the driver to pick us up from our hotel instead of the meeting place (we had to go change into long pants first and time was short) we were on our way. In less than an hour we were heading out into the jungle. Located some distance from Semporna lies a center on a river which offers monkey and bird watching cruises. We were welcomed to the center with banana leaf wreaths, a fried banana (finally I get my fried banana!) and a glass of juice which tasted a bit like Fairy dishwashing liquid dissolved in soy milk. First we got a look at bunch of macaques fighting over pieces of bread being thrown to them while a pig-tailed macaque bull tried in vain to scare me by running up to me and baring its teeth. Come on monkey, bring it on homeboy. I got big teeth too.

The hunt for the Proboscis began. We were cruising on the river surrounded by mangroves looking for any signs of this endangered animal. Apparently they have a habit of coming down to the river right before the sunset to snack on river crabs. At any noise or a sign the captain would cut the engine and we'd float closer and into the mangrove roots. Yet no monkeys would be seen up close with the exception of a few macaques looking at us from the trees. Despite the obvious failure of the main objective, the cruise was absolutely wonderful. To experience the rainforests up close and personal, this must be a bit how cruising the Amazon or Orinoco looks like. Bird calls, monkey calls, fish bubbling underneath the surface. Aah... heaven. Upon our return we were treated to a barbeque dinner, or rather I was treated to dinner and a half (read: shrimp, fish and squid which Krysia wouldn't touch). We forwent the glass of soapy juice this time and opted for sodas instead.

A cultural note. Our guide was a Muslim. During Ramadan, which we are in the middle of, they are forbidden from eating, drinking or even smoking between sunrise and sunset. What was a bit funny that Kris didn't know that the most devout Muslims don't even swallow saliva, but instead spit. Wife thought our guide was a disgusting old man spitting left and right, when in fact he just had a very strong will. At 18:24 sharp the spitting stopped, he grabbed a bottle of water and a cigarette and with a big grin on his face lit up and took a swig.

We returned to the hotel at around 8 by which time we were quite tired and bug-bitten. It was time for a shower and bed to get a good night sleep before diving.

Droga do zatracenia.

Na nic zdało się odpukiwanie w niemalowane. Powrót do filipińskich metropolii przysporzył nam kilku siwych włosów.A zaczęło się tak pięknie.

Obudził mnie szum fal. Morze było spokojne, słońce nieśmiało wyglądało zza chmur. Mąż zdążył już przynieść małe co nieco na śniadanie,którym postanowiłam się delektować na tarasie- w końcu nie często zdarza się mieć tak piekny widok na wodę i wyspę zarazem. Po załatwieniu wszystkich formalności,płatności i pożegnaniu się z Johnem (moim australijskim instruktorem), powoli udaliśmy się w stronę keji. Łódź do Batangas miała odpłynąć o 10.30 a stamtąd już prosto autobusem do celu.Na miejscu okazało się że właśnie przed chwilą rejs został odwołany i musimy czekać 1,5 godziny na następny. Troszkę zdenerwowani – ale cały czas w dobrych humorach, zdecydowaliśmy się na drugie śniadanie w naszej ulubionej kanjpce. Typowo filipińskie, czyli:ryż smażony z czosnkiem, jajka sadzone a do tego kiełbaska lub słodka wołowina. Czas zleciał dość szybko i nim się obejrzeliśmy,siedzieliśmy w łodzi a Sabang znikała nam z oczu. Do brzegu przybyliśmy o czasie. Nauczeni doświadczeniem, na wszystkie próby 'porwania' naszego bagażu w ramach pomocy, grzecznie lub troche mniej grzecznie odpowiadaliśmy 'nie'. Autobusy odjeżdzały z tego samego miejsca do którego przyjechalismy tydzień temu. I tu,choć z początku niepozornie, zaczęła się nasza droga do zatracenia.Plan był prosty: dojechać do Manili,przesiąść się w drugi autobus i dojechać do Angeles, skąd nazajutrz mieliśmy wylecieć na Borneo. W trakcie poszukiwania właściwego autobusu, jeden z kierowców zaczął nas zapewniać że jedzie prosto do Angeles i nie musimy się nigdzie przesiadać. Wizja nie ciągania się z bagażami uderzyła nam do głowy i uwierzyliśmy. Jak się nie ma w głowie to się ma w nogach.Albo w portfelu.

Ponad trzy godziny jazdy i wylądowalismy na przedmieściach Manili. Ani trochę blisko Angeles. No cóż...poddać się nie można więc szukamy dalszego transportu. Zostaliśmy skierowani do autobusu, który miał dojeżdzać do miejscowości zaraz obok Angeles a stamtąd (podobno) następny bus już do celu. Dojechaliśmy do Dau (miasto obok) i ...klops. Autobusów do Angeles nie ma. Za taksówkę chcieli ok. 700 pesos. Był trochę tańszy sposób-poruszanie się tzw.'trike' czyli motor plus mała kabina obok. Nie było opcji żebysmy zmieścili się oboje z bagażami, a razem z Mężem stwierdziliśmy że tym bardziej nie ma opcji żebysmy się rozdzielili. Poszukiwania dojazdu w internecie spełzły na niczym, ponieważ fast food który twierdził że ma wi-fi, nagle obwinił deszcz o jego brak. Absolutnie nikt z pytanych przez nas ludzi nie wiedział ani gdzie jest nasz hotel, ani nawet jak dostać się do dzielnicy w której miał się znajdować. Już myślałam że los się do nas uśmiechnął,kiedy na stacji benzynowej pozwolili mi skorzystać z telefonu i zadzwonić do hotelu. Znowu psikus – numer nieprawidłowy.

Zrezygnowani, zdecydowaliśmy się wziąć jeepney który jechał 'mniej więcej' w pożądanym kierunku, mając nadzieję że po drodze uda nam się czegoś dowiedzieć. Ściśnięci jak sardynki,mocno trzymając bagaże,dojechaliśmi (teoretycznie) do właściwej dzielnicy. Niestety, krótkie rozeznanie w terenie i nadal ani widu ani słychu po naszym hotelu. Próbując szczęścia, zaczeliśmy pytać lokalnych. 'Tutaj prosto,potem w prawo' … 'Nie..najpierw w lewo a potem prosto.' …' Musicie się zawrócić, hotel jest jakieś 5 kilometrów stąd' ….A w tak zwanym międzyczasie zrobiło się już późno i kompletnie ciemno.

Dzikim trafem,natknęliśmy się na kafejkę internetową. Pełni optymizmu,bylismy pewni że 'raz dwa' sprawdzimy drogę na google maps. Znaliśmy adres docelowy, potrzebny był tylko adres bieżący. Ale to byłoby zbyt piękne. Ani pani pracująca w kafejce,ani nikt w okolicy nie znał dokładnego adresu. Wszyscy podawali tylko nazwę ulicy,która ciągneła się prawie przez całe miasto! Nie wiedzieliśmy czy smiać się czy płakać. Prawdopodbnie przyszło by nam spać na ulicy, albo zostać ograbionym przez taksówkarza, gdyby nie pomoc Carmen. Okazała się ona być żoną właściciela kafejki,która właśnie dowiedziała się że trochę się pogubiliśmy i bardzo chciała nam pomóc. Początkowo, oboje z Mężem byliśmy bardzo nieufni,zwłaszcza kiedy zapewniała, że innym ufać nie można - ale jej tak. W końcu zleciała się cała rodzina i zaczęła wspólnie dociekać gdzie się podział nasz hotel. Jak tylko to ustalili, Carmen zaoferowała że załatwi nam jeepney, po cenie dla lokalnych, który nas zabierze do hotelu. A ona i jej mąż pojadą z nami na skuterze aby dopilnować że nic się nam nie stanie. Stwierdziliśmy że bezpieczniej będzie zaufać jej, niż samotnie włóczyć się z bagażami po ciemnych ulicach nieznanego nam miasta. Mój Anioł Stróż uznał już chyba,że jak na jeden dzień wystarczy przygód, bo po około 10 minutach jazdy,zobaczyliśmy czerwony neon naszego hotelu.Carmen – dziękuję Ci z całego serca!

Wiara w Filipińczyków została choć trochę przywrócona. Gorący prysznic i miękkie łóżko pomogły mi zasnąć w rekordowym tempie.

Zawsze wierzyłam w powiedzenie: 'koniec języka za przewodnika'. Niestety, bardzo przykro mi to stwierdzić, ale w większych miastach na Filipinach stosowanie się do tego powiedzenia jest kompletną zgubą.Będąc białym człowiekiem, jesteś chodzącym znakiem $$$. I nie byłoby nic złego w tym, gdyby chodziło tylko o wyższą cenę. Jak świat światem – na turystach zbijano kokosy. Problem w tym, że tutaj, dla zarobku wywiozą cię w kompletnie przeciwnym kierunku. Nie ważne jakie zadajesz pytanie, odpowiedź brzmi zawsze 'tak'. A o resztę martw się potem.I tak społeczeństwo dzieli się głównie na tych którzy chcą cię wyrolować i na tych, którzy mimo chęci, absolutnie nie potrafią ci pomóc.

No nic.Dzięki niezapomnianemu pobytowi na wyspie i pomocnej interwencji Carmen, wspomnienia z Filipin będę miała bardzo przyjemne.Doprawione tylko pewną dozą przestrogi na przyszłość.

Lazy day and welcome to Borneo

Being stuck at a hotel in the middle of nowhere with an afternoon flight has one, generally positive, side effect: you end up getting a lazy day. True, I hate these days normally, but Filipino cities have taken too much out of me, so it was a day to just stretch my bones and do much of nothing.
With no restaurant nearby serving anything Filipino and Kris enjoying a lie-in, it was two 7-Eleven trips for snack foods. She'll smile when she reads this, but she is a fast food junkie. Anything fried or in a bag is fair game. Steamed rolls with adobo pork, or even a hot dog with Filipino sausage gets scarfed up pretty quickly.

We called a hotel taxi as there were no actual taxis in the town and were dropped of at the airport two hours early. At this airport this seemed like a total waste of time (since the check-in opened late and they were letting on board twenty minutes before the flight), but actually all the procedures, the double security screening (which was very lax anyways with a door open to the outside from the "safe zone"), paying the departure tax and immigration control took a long time. So with a peace of mind I was actually glad to be there early.

Waiting for dinner with a cup of papaya juice

We spend the remaining pesos on some decent food (Filipino friend pierogi or as Kris prefers empenadas), beer and some trinkets. My souvenir out of the Philippines are three local cigars, hopefully smokeable. And off we went.

HELLO BORNEO! HELLO SABAH, WESTERN MALAYSIA!

Even the missus noticed that we are in a slightly better off country. The airport looks so much nicer, everything is ways cleaner here that the dirt filled streets in the Philippines. People seem calmer, nicer somehow, more trustworthy. The last one will come out in the wash (although on my last trip to Malaysia I didn't have any unpleasant experiences with scammers). The culture is Muslim, with a lot of women walking around wearing headscarves. But no burkas, which is a good thing because it would be a pity to hide all these female faces.

Our taxi to the hotel ended up costing quite a bit more than expected. A fair price, just the hotel was 20km out of the airport. And here comes time to review Tune Hotels in general a second time around.

TUNE HOTELS - economical hotels based mostly in SE Asia. The reason for their economical price is mostly their remote locations from airports as well as general lack of amenities provided, and very expensive transport to town.

We checked in to 1 Borneo Tune hotel and nipped out for dinner in the near mall. 1Borneo is a huge, sprawling mall in the north part of town. Such Asian gems as bubble tea or K-TV (karaoke TV) are present here, along with such perennial favorites like Starbucks and McDonald's. For our dinner we picked something reminiscent of Viking in Poland: a huge array of dishes ready to be served. Krysia went for Penang style noodles, myself, some seafood dish of course. This time she was a definite winner, her noodles were scrumptuous, while mine barely contained any seafood at all. We booked transport to the airport for tomorrow at 5 in the morning. One thing that strikes you right away: Malaysia is significantly more expensive than the Philippines. Taxis / transport is more expensive than Poland, yet alone alcohol (which makes sense for a Muslim country). A thought I had was: we didn't drink enough in the Philippines.

Off to bed now, for we get an early start tomorrow.

Negative karma, take 2

Morning view from our "Penthouse"

Woke up at around six to the sound of waves and wind rustling the palm leaves, our last night on Oriental Mindoro gone in a flash. Nights were restful here for me, going to sleep reasonably early as diving takes a lot out of a man. Nightlife here revolves much around “siree, me love you long time” or “cheap massagee siree”, the first one not appropriate for a honeymoon couple, the second one a bit too dodgy for the missus. Myself, I really need to be in the mood for a massage, otherwise I just find it a bit annoying. Got in a bit online action on the terrace before heading out to check out departure times for the boats and some breakfast.

On the pier they clearly said: one boat at 9:30, one at 10:30, then at 11:30 and 1 PM. Armed with that knowledge, I grabbed a couple pan de coco and some other red-stuff filled breakfast rolls and two nescafes and headed back to pack. One thing was theoretically set, so now time to pack, pay our bills and leave. I had a problem with booking a hotel for tonight yesterday. John called it up for us, but the bastards were suddenly quoting a higher price, apparently the regular rooms all rented out. Fortunately there is a Tune Hotel in Angeles, right next to the airport, and Expedia had a good deal so there: done. Not that I'm such a fan of Tunes but for our last night, we just wanted to be somewhere convenient. After paying Jemma, we said our farewells to John and Dive VIP and went to the pier... just to find out that our 10:30 boat was canceled and the next one was an hour later. I clearly remember they didn't say anything about it, even had a schedule from them with the 10:30 boat circled, but apparently it was canceled a few minutes after I'd come. Right... seriously, getting any decent, honest and correct information out of a Filipino is like convincing a whale not to be big. With an hour and a half to kill it was second breakfast time at our favorite place in Sabang. Wi-Fi'ing, eating Pinoy breakfast and drinking coffee was a perfect way to kill the unnecessary time. At 11:30 we finally said goodbye to Oriental Mindoro.

Boat ride was sleepy, although a bit wet at times. The crew went to a lot of effort to pull down the shades and foil covers mostly around the two of us, yet we ended up being the only people on the boat soaked on a big wave. After our previous experience with runners, scammers, hustlers, cheats and other types of predatory scumbags we decided that the only answer to any inquiry to where we're going, do we need help with our luggage, a taxi or anything else in the vicinity of help would be either “no” or “fuck off”. Usually “no” worked well enough fortunately, followed by an evil stare if needed. Perhaps because we're darker now and look a bit wiser the scumbags knew better not to hassle us too much. We jumped on a bus heading to Cubao (not having a bloody idea where it is) in hope that it would drop us off close to Clark airport and Angeles. The driver claimed it would, but after dealing with “helpful people” around here, we could never be certain of anything.

Four hours later, I'm sitting reasonably close to my destination in a Jollybee fast food restaurant, trying to figure out why oh why did I break my promise to myself to never trust a Filipino again. I checked our transfer to our hotel near Clark airport. Boat to Batangas, then any bus to Buendia bus terminal in Manila then a bus to Angeles and we're set. Of course with all the bother with the luggage and all when a chance came up to go to Angeles from Batangas directly we, or rather I, jumped on it immediately. The driver assured and reassured me that it would stop at Angeles. So here it is, in no plainer words:

DON'T TRUST A FILIPINO!

The bus never got to Angeles. Cubao turned out to be just a suburb of Manila at which the bus stopped its run. Next we had to hop on to a bus going to Dau, near Angeles, for there were no buses going to Angeles. And that's where we are stuck now. I'm once again getting into the state that the next person that talks to me will get his fucking face bashed in and brains will be plopping up and down on the street. The swindling, lying, cheating, hustling little fuckers will do anything to get your money out of you, including give you wrong information that you for example use their bus. And what makes me just a little bit more upset, now we're stuck in an area surrounded by a gang trikes, and any taxi that stops and I attempt to talk to is immediately surrounded by them saying something and trying to “negotiate” the price for me. Of course negotiating it up, how else could it be? And there is a distinct feeling that their trying to intimidate the taxi driver. Here is how it's gonna work out: I'm NOT putting Krysia in a trike by herself and half our luggage. It's simply about safety, not about money and she's not that happy about getting into a trike by herself anyways.

The amount of misinformation you get from these people is incredible. No one is willing to help, they plainly try to rip you off, even try to renegotiate the price after the fact, play stupid when you ask them the simplest question... It's sad... it's really, sad. I come to realization: I WANT to trust people when I travel, but many a time I can't. I do make friends easily, I strike up conversations easily, I enjoy sharing views, beers or even rooms with people. I am the first one in a group to take in a local meal and to chat up a local. But Philippines, like Egypt beforehand, has scarred me severely. Not to discount a whole nation: there are plenty of fantastic people around (some of them married into my family), but on a random chance, you are more likely to run into a scumbag on a street than a nice person.

Finally fed up, after running up and down a street like headless chickens, we took a jeepney to Angeles City. We actually found one, a public one, meaning not the 600 or 700 pesos they were asking but... 10. And off we went, stuck like sardines in a can once again, with our oversized luggage, a guy with rapidly cooling pizzas, a screaming baby, and a couple incredibly interested in the sound of our Polish conversation (I get to practice my Polish quite a bit here when I don't want Filipinos to understand what I'm saying). We dropped off somewhere and... nothing. We're nowhere near our hotel. And what made it more frustrating, no one, absolutely no one knew where the fuck we were. People said: “Go that way”, “No, go that way”, “You're here”, “No, you're here”. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do (i.e. insult the entire nation), but does any Filipino know their own asshole from a hole in the ground? I mean seriously, I ask three or four people on for the address of their store, and none of them knows! I was about to explode, so I suggested going into an internet cafe to try to find our location. Here is where the story finally takes a turn for the better.

A lady came into the cafe, looking for two lost foreigners (that was us by the way!). Carmen, that was her name, heard from her husband (who we earlier asked for directions) that we were somewhat lost and wanted to help out. And indeed, she helped us find our location on Google maps, then helped us grab a private jeepney and negotiate a “reasonably” good price and then even went with her husband on a scooter to make sure we got to our hotel safely. Bloody hell! Carmen my dear, thank you for saving the shreds of Filipino dignity. As I stated above, I like people and I want to trust them, but this country makes this damn difficult. But you came just in the nick of time, before I suggested carpet nuclear bombing the entire nation. When we finally saw the neon signs of Tune Hotel, we almost screamed in joy. Krysia wanted her address to send her some gift or a postcard, but I'll let handle that. At this point I was simply glad to be at our hotel. We checked in, I nipped out to 7-Eleven for two 1 liter strong beers and some express Hot Rice meals and into the sleepy void I go.

P.S. I saw a billboard today in Manilla that said "If you hate it RANT, if you love if RAVE". This is one of the rant ones. I just wander what Stefan and Nina who are travelling in similar conditions through the same country are thinking right now? Really guys, I'm not as big of a hostile, negative whiner as this post comes out to be.

Last dive

So it was our last day of diving today. Woke up in our beautiful penthouse overlooking the sea and all I wanted to do is just to stare at the water. If we ever come back to this place, we are definitely booking this room again. Bought some rolls for breakfast from the local shop which turned out to be a winner with a steaming cup of Nescafe 3-in-1.

Cool Divemaster Bart. Courtesy of Stefan Uhlmann.

And off to dive we went. Our second day as diving buddies with my darling wifey.

Dives were okay, although Krysia would say they were great. Hole in the Wall dive was just a bunch of nudibranches, soft corals and small stuff, but it ended in swimming through an open cave which was fun in itself. And I have to give to wifey: she did not destroy half of the coral reef this time. Congrats hon. Our second dive was probably even less memorable to me: so much that I can't actually remember anything about it.

Our after diving activities were limited to going out to a new place of the main drag to grab some cheapo Filipino food. It was actually good, albeit small. Two games of pool against the 6-year old hustler Nero (I actually won one) and off to bed we went.

Morza szum,ptaków śpiew

Woda to zdecydowanie mój żywioł.Podwodny świat,czasem powolny i spokojny a czasem szybki i pełen energii, jest niewiarygodnie fascynujący. Nurkowanie to wspaniała zabawa ale też niezwykle pouczające doświadczenie. Tym większa była moja radość, kiedy dowiedziałam się że zdalam test i pozytywnie ukończyłam obie częsi kursu.Yuuuuupi! Jak mówią: „apetyt rośnie w miarę jedzenia”, więc już przymierzam się na następne kursy. A mając tak wspaniałego 'buddy' jak mój Mąż, jestem pewna że nim się obejrzę będę poszukiwać skrabów na starych wrakach.

Aż szkoda że już jutro musimy wyjechać. Pocieszeniem jest to że przed nami jeszcze miesiąc zwiedzania. Tydzień spędzony na wyspie był nadzwyczaj relaksujący. Warunki dalekie od luksusowych, ale za to atmosfera rekompensowała wszystko. Wczesna pobudka, śniadanie w pobliskiej knajpce i nurkowanie. Szybki prysznic coby zmyć z siebie całą sól i pora na lunch. Zazwyczaj ryż z dodatkami,albo jakiś lokalny przysmak. Popołudnie to czas na nadrabianie blogowych zaległości i leniwe pogaduchy z nowymi znajomymi. Poznaliśmy przesympatyczną parę z Niemiec (Nina i Stephan), dla której to już czwarty wypad do Azji i która już od dawna wspólnie nurkuje. Ich towarzystwo umilało nam nasze wieczory i mam nadzieję że jeszcze uda nam się spotkać. Muszę przyznac że się trochę rozleniwiłam i nie jest mi bardzo spieszno do wyjazdu. Ale cóż...Jak już wspomniałam, przed nami kolejne przygody i przeżycia. Jutro powrót do stolicy,a pojutrze wyjazd. Teraz czas na Borneo.

We're staying on the island!

After our last night at John's we went one more to Seashore for our American breakfast. No matter how good bacon and eggs are, I'm getting a bit tired of it. And I need some real coffee. Where is Starbucks when you need one? There were dozens in Manila, but none here. Sabang is too much of hole in the wall kind of place.

No more exercises since my honey is a certified diver now.

Our first fun dives together as buddies were not just fun but also funny. Poor girl got her mask all fogged up on a first dive and wondered what to do. I showed her how to get some water in it in order to wash out the fog. This she did quite successfully and... problem. One day as a certified diver and she's already forgotten how to clear the mask. Oh my. I thought I'd die laughing under the sea. After some tries and with John's help, she finally managed to keep her head back and to blow through her nose. Lesson well learned I hope. Before heading out we said our farewells to Nina and Stefan who were staying here for one more night and going dirt biking around the island.

Our second dive was even funnier. While her buoyancy skills are getting quite good, my dear wifey keeps forgetting that there are six directions to keep in mind underwater not just four. And in a beautiful style she rammed and kidnapped a big bunch of sea worms size of a badger. A big black ball was stuck to her wetsuit taking a free ride on M/S Krysia. He he... the innocent look in her eyes asking me "how did THAT got there?" was absolutely priceless.

On the way back to the shore John mentioned that a room opened up right next door to the dive shop so if we wanted to stay it's ours for just 500 pesos. A room with a view, eh? We were pretty much decided to go to Talipanan on a private jeepney, but we had to check it out and what a winner it turned out to be. A nice cozy room, with an outstanding view of the sea, a working Wi-Fi, a pool table we could use next door and a big terrace. Decision was made. We'd go diving for one last day, damaging our budget a bit more. Since we were still here and had this penthouse on top, we went out for our farewell dinner with our German buddies and then to play a couple rounds of pool back at ours. This time our farewells were final. Tomorrow morning they are leaving to go elsewhere and we're staying here for two nights before heading to Angeles City and flying to Borneo. Nina, Stefan: visit us in Warsaw at any time. We'll go drinking and bowling, albeit no diving. And have fun on the rest of your trip.

Underwater engagement and welcome a new OWD

This was supposed to be our last day of diving. If everything went smoothly, Kris would get her Open Water Diver after her fourth dive and a final exam. Being honest, she was a bit worried about the theory test, the perfect student that she is. We went for a dive at 9 with waters still calm and my mermaid got to practice some kick ass skills like mask clearing, CESA and buddy breathing underwater. She did wonderfully and it appears that she's finally getting some control of her buoyancy. About time too since without realizing she was using quite a bit of my air, with me running after her up and down and dragging her positively buoyant booty.

While she stayed behind in the room to take her final I went to grab some lunch and to check out some options for our next couple of days. John recommended going to Talipanan, a laidback place nearby with a beautiful beach. A problem soon arose how to get there. Going there by a private jeepney would cost more than couple nights accommodations, getting there by public methods of transport would take hours and we did not fancy hauling around our heavy bags like two cargo camels. But it was possible to stay one more night in our room which meant one more day of fun diving. Krysia mentioned earlier that if our budget was stretched, she'd forgo eating in lieu of diving. Let's see if she keeps the promise.

I headed out for my second fun dive with John, Stefan and Nina. Sabang Wreck, two boats lying shallow close to the beach. Since the wrecks abound in fish, I took an egg for some fish feeding with John taking a banana (a bit of a surprise: I fed fish with eggs, rice and bread before, but a banana?). Dive was wonderful, but a surprise came while Nina was feeding angelfish. Stefan started diddling something on a slate and fumbling around in his pocket with John filming him. Something was up. Before Nina realized, he produced a message saying "Nina I love you. Will you marry me?". Aaaaaaaaawwwwww... how romantic. :) To keep the suspense short, she wrote yes and sealed the deal with a ring on her finger and an underwater kiss. Congratulations to the newly engaged couple and our new diving buddies!

After the second dive Krysia passed her OW exam with flying colors. 96% is a fine score. Congrats hon! Hmm... did you figure our some system or something or do you actually know all the answers? ;) I cooked dinner in a truly backpacker style, noodles, beef hash and eggs and it came out edible, although hopefully Kris won't be too disgusted when she reads this blog and finds out that beef hash is basically a step up from dog food.

As this was supposed to be our last night on the island and to celebrate the engagement and a new certified diver we headed up to a German steakhouse above the dive shop for some food and drinks. Food was quite pricey here with burgers running at almost $10 but it was a celebration. Since we enjoyed Nina and Stefan's company we had some more drinks after getting back to our patio. We're heading in different directions as backpackers always do, but maybe one day we'll dive again together.

Podwodne przygody czas zacząć.

'Powoz juz czeka' - czyli transport na wyspe

Cokolwiek złego przytrafiło się nam w Manili, zostalo zrekompensowane przez Sabang Beach. Mimo mało przychylnej pogody (deszcz nie odpuszczał), wyspa od razu przywitała nas wspaniałą atmosferą i niepowtarzalnym lokalnym klimatem. Po godzinnej podróży łodzią, udało nam się wydostać na brzeg, co przy dość wysokich falach i plecaku na grzbiecie bylo sztuką iście cyrkową. Szybko znaleźliśmy nasze lokum, prowadzone przez nieco ekscentrycznego Australijczyka, osiadłego na wyspie od 18 lat. John dał nam klucze do naszego pokoju, w którym już czekało na nas dwóch małych (albo i troszkę większych) gości. W Wenezueli polowałam na karaluchy z kotem, tym razem opanowałam technikę poslugiwania się przepychaczem do wc. Po szybkim rozpakowaniu się przyszedł czas na rozpoznanie terenu. Malutka nadmorska miejscowość, ale restauracji i szkół nurkowych jak mrówków. Zgodnie z rekomendacją, na pierwszą kolację wybraliśmy knajpkę o wdzięcznej nazwie 'Sabang Fast Food' Z tradycyjnym fast-foodem nie miała jednak ona wiele wspólnego. Jedzenie faktycznie zostało podane szybko, ale była to typowo filipińska kuchnia w bardzo smacznym wydaniu. Brzuszki były pełne,humor poprawiony.Zmęczeni mniej lub bardziej przyjemnymi przygodami dnia, ułożyliśmy się do snu.

Najtrudniejsze zadanie:utrzymac rownowage

Następny etap naszej podróży oznaczał czysty relaks. Na wyspie życie toczy się w zwolnionym tempie. Nikt się nie śpieszy, nie denerwuje, nie trąbi … Ja rozpoczęłam swój kurs nurkowania, który składa się z dwóch części. Praktycznej i teoretycznej. Aby ukończyć tą drugą musialam przebrnąć przez podręcznik-instrukcję, tak więc podczas gdy Mąż się relaksował, ja wkuwałam jak na grzecznego uczni a przystało. Pierwsza część – czyli nurkowanie samo w sobie – dało mi najwięcej satysfakcji. Co prawda moje ekwilibrystyczne wyczyny pod wodą przyprawialy mnie o salwy śmiechu (też pod wodą, więc musiałam uważać coby się z tej radości nie utopić), ale z każda minutą spędzoną w towarzystwie rybek, krabów itp. utwierdzałam się w przekonaniu że 'to jest to'. Każde z moich czterech nurkowań zaczynało się kilkoma zadaniami do wykonia. Takie tam:zdjąć i założyć ekwipunek, zacząć oddychać z dodatkowego źródła powietrza, zdjąć i zalożyć maskę – żeby nie było wątpliwości – wszystko pod wodą. Następnie zaczynał się 'fun dive' czyli zwiedzanie okolicy. Przy tym mialam najwięcej ubawu. Nie tylko poznawałam przecudowną florę i faunę ale uczyłam się jak utrzymać porządaną wypornośc.

Na plazy...na plazy fajnie jest...!

Następne dni były do siebie dość podobne. Śniadanie, nurkowanie, nauka, obiad, nauka,kolacja,nauka,spanie. W międzyczasie poprawiła się pogoda. W momencie jak wyszło słońce, pokazały się też wszystkie możliwe gryzące insekty, tak więc moje ciało, zamiast seksowną opalenizną, pokryło się mniej seksownymi czerwonymi bąblami różnej wielkości.

Dziś miałam ostatnie szkoleniowe nurkowanie i test. Właśnie czekam na wyniki. Trzymajcie kciuki za zdanie i nie utopienie się. Czy to z rozpaczy czy z radości.

A wreck and a home cooked meal

Day started out pretty much the same as yesterday, brekkie followed by diving. This time I headed out by myself with John. Apparently the level of difficulty was too high for the others. A wreck dive! M/S Alma Jane, lying at 30 meters, a cargo vessel purposely scuttled in Sabang Bay to create an artificial reef and dive site. Nice to have this dive all to myself: a bit of penetration, albeit quite easy: the cargo hold is open on both sides, so no lines or even flashlights are even needed. And a bit of nitrogen in my blood.

Night view from our dive shop. Courtesy of Stefan Uhlmann.

Returning from the dive went shopping at a local market. Figured that we were blowing a bit too much money on food in the Phillies: budgeted $10 per person per day, was closer to $20. So today it was a cooking day. Bought some chicken, sauce and noodles to make chicken afritada. But the cooking had to wait, because our second dive was looming.

We headed out to Sabang Point just with Krysia and John, to practice some of her OW skills. It was fun to finally have her as a buddy, though she was doing the "get your ass up in the air" thing and floating with her bootie up. Oh the adventures of a beginning diver. But the girl loves diving and she's going to become a certified mermaid soon.

Back home it was cooking time. That turned out a bit of a disappointment, since afritada sauce is basically tomato sauce. But the missus liked it: it was probably the chicken (the meaty girl she is). A break from the routine nonetheless and a big meal to boot. Both of us seem to be losing weight as planned. Not that we're jumping on scales daily: there are none around. But all the clothes are starting to feel a little bit loose. Will soon be time to lose some luggage as we go on.

Note to fellow divers: don't bother taking your equipment if you're going backpacking. If this were just a stationary diving holiday I could justify carrying the extra 10kg of equipment, but considering that we're spending 75% of our honeymoon doing other activities, hauling my stuff was a mistake. The bag is quite inconvenient.

In the evening it was the same routine: Krysia studying her theory (final exam tomorrow) while I went out to catch some Wi-Fi at Eddie's. Internet here is really on and off and my trip was mostly in vain. A beer later I was able to finally get my dad on Skype back at our room. Now comes decision time. The original plan was to go to Banaue and Sagada (rice fields and hanging coffins) but that requires a trip back to Manila followed by a 9 hour night bus each way. Considering we only have three days left before we leave the Philippines, this idea doesn't seem so fresh. An opportunity arose to go dive the Apo Reef in the west. But we're facing the same problem. It's a bus ride, followed by a couple hour boat ride, followed by a four hour bus ride, followed by a boat ride. Plus diving there is horrifically expensive: we're looking at close to $200 per person for just one day of diving in conditions that are far from perfect. So our decision is to stay here for two more days, perhaps do one additional day of diving and then do a trip to a beach and just chill before heading out. At this point, our honeymoon is about relaxing, not about busting our balls going place to place.

A taste of island life

What do you do in a third world dive resort town on a holiday? Sleep in, eat, drink & dive. That pretty much summarizes every day since and hence here. We woke up a bit earlier, since our first dive was scheduled for 8:30 in the morning. Grabbed a bit of a brekkie next door, typical American breakfast, bacon, eggs, toast, OJ and coffee. Kris hasn't learned yet that you do not shower before diving because you're apt to get all salty and you have to shower afterwards yet. But, whatever makes the chipmunk face happy. We nipped out to the boat right before 8:30 and headed out for our first dive of the day.

Merman extreme in action: courtesy of Stephan from Germany

Water... salt water. In my next life I'd like to be a fish, preferrably a big ass mo-fo like a tiger shark or perhaps a peace loving humpback. You're submerged in the deep blue, sometimes a bit sedimented but always surrounded with some moving, colorful things. Fish, nudibranches, corals, sponges, sea turtles. If you're luck a shark. If you're very lucky a whale. I've been helping out John with a rescue diver course with two students, Stephan and Nina, a nice German couple. I played a victim today, panicked diver, drowning victim and such. Oh, such fun. So far, I've been a nice boy, but I think once their rescue scenarios roll around on day four, I'm going to let it loose and go a bit crazy. I mean, a Rescue Diver is a serious stuff. I went through it myself, and have to say it was the toughest yet most rewarding diving course ever.

I nipped out to bring some quick lunch to the missus from Sabang Fast Food. This place never misses a beat. Even a cheap stir fry is good. And it was off to dive again for me and some more studying for Krysia. Bit of drift diving this time. Lots of small stuff, though noting pelagic. Oh well, maybe later in Tawau (if we actually get there) or Bali.

The day ended pretty much as the previous one: some drinks at home, studying, updating the blog in a bar while drinking beer. I suppose these entries are getting a bit redundant, but gotto keep on blogging. :)

Dead or Alive

Ze spokojnej Japonii, w której nikt nigdy nie trąbił, przylecieliśmy do miasta w którym praktycznie słychac głównie klaksony. Na ulicy może znokautować Cię wszystko:od samochodu,poprzez innych przechodniów na bezdomnych psach kończąc. Światła to nawet nie sugestia - to poprostu ozodoba. W Manili każdy chodzi i jeździ jak chce. Istna walka o przetrwanie. Z trybu 'spokojny' trzeba było przełączyć się na tryb 'taran'. Litości (patrz uprzejmości) nie wolno okazywać. Kierowani sentencją (z którą nie do końca się zgadzam): co Cię nie zabije to Cię wzmocni, postanowiliśmy odwiedzić Intramuros - stary hiszpański fort.

Nasz środek transportu.

A zapowiadalo sie tak dobrze...

Pierwsza atrakcja - podróż jeepney. Czyli wskakuj w biegu, siadaj i pilnuj żebyś nie wypadł.Potem przesiadka do szybkiej kolejki naziemnej - lekki ścisk, dużo zaciekawionych spojrzeń. 40 minut i byliśmy na miejscu. Zwiedzanie zaczeło sie dość pozytywnie,początkowo na piechotę, następnie w tzw. pedicab -czyli małej taksówce napedzanej siłą nóg.(nie naszych) To był największy błąd. I kolejna lekcja - nie można być za bardzo ufnym ani miłym, chyba że w bardzo szybkim tempie chce sie pozbyć kasy. W skrócie: umówilismy się na 300 pesos a nagle wyszło 600. Bo się jazda przedłużyła, bo było nas dwoje, bo jego rodzina jest biedna bla bla bla. To są momenty których nie lubię, ale groźne spojrzenie i kilka ostrych przekleństw po polsku załatwiło sprawę.(co prawda ich nie zrozumiał, ale sam dzwięk jest dość ostry i twardy i robi wrazenie:)

Deszczowa piosenka.

Szybka decyzja - wracamy. Mieliśmy już dosyć ciagłego zaczepiania i nachalnego nagabywania. Co innego poznać loklną kulture a co innego jak ta 'kultura' próbuje Cię wydudkać na wszystkie możliwe sposoby. Plan powrotu był prosty - gorzej z wykonaniem. W tak zwanym międzyczasie zaczęlo padać. A właściwie to lać. A najwlaściwiej to zaczął się potop. W ciągu 20 minut miasto zamieniło się w Wenecję. Wyzwanie pierwsze: chodzenie po ulicach w wodzie do kolan, gdzie nadal kaźdy próbuje Cię rozjechać. Dotarliśmy do kolejki - ale już wyjście ze stacji nie bylo takie proste. Hektolitry wody, dziesiątki parasolek i setki ludzi próbujących przedostać się gdzieś, lecz nie wiadomo gdzie. Nie wiedzieć jak, wylądowalismy na środku ulicy, gdzie pan ze straży miejskiej/drogowej probował nam pomóc złapać jeepney. Bezskutecznie,lawirowanie miedzy pędzacymi samochodami nie przyniosło skutku. Zrezygnowani, zgodziliśmy się wziąć taksówkę (na szczescie udało nam się utargować cenę do przyzwoitej) i po mozolnych manerwach kierowcy udało nam się dotrzeć do hotelu. Podróż tam 40 minut. Z powrotem: 3 godziny.

Zawsze mozna sie dobrze bawic.

Jedyne czego chcieliśmy to wydostać sie z tego miasta. Ciągle lało - więc znowu wzieliśmy taxi. W połowie drogi, kierowca stwierdził ze korek jest za duży i że nie opłaca mu sie nas wieść. Wysadził nas na stacji benzynowej i odjechał. Z bagażami i wodą po kolana, zastanawialiśmy się co dalej. Na szczęscie trzeźwośc umysłu Męża, pozowliła nam wpaśc na pomysł wzięcia długodystansowego autobusu, który i tak jechal w tamtą stronę, a który miał przynajmniej na tyle wysokie zawieszenie że nie zamieniał się w łódź podwodną jak reszta samochodów. Ostatni etap-dotarcie do stacji autobusowej, władowanie sie do autokaru i wyruszenie do Puerto Galera. Ufff.

Bezpieczenstwo przedewzsystkim.

ps. Wszędzie strażnicy z bronią. Skelp, bank, restauracja, metro. Wielkie dubeltówki przy boku i bacznie obserwujace spojrzenia.

Splashing around

One thing to say about Aussies: they do run an informal shop. Our dive leader, Krysia's instructor, John Barratt, just gave us the keys to the place yesterday, asked for nothing and mentioned that we start diving at 10:30. We reminded him about the B&B deal that apparently he struck with us and he promptly went to a nearby restaurant to set somethig up. All right. That kind of informality works with me quite well.

The little mermaid in her watery haven

We woke up after a good night's sleep and proceeded to have a nice American breakfast. Then it was time to dive. It's been two years for me: since the beginning of my diving adventure, my diving has been few and far between. So this honeymoon I'll take every opportunity I get to get wet. Kris was given an OWD coursebook and a DVD to study and I headed out for the blue (or not so blue waters). Who cares! The moment I got on the boat, my heart rate dropped by half, all my worries went away and my stress level dropped to zero. I'm diving again. Blessed be the sea, the underwater creatures, the fish I'm not going to eat and all the wetness around. Diving is my meditation, it is my zen, my relaxation, my raison d'etre. Getting to our divesite was exciting enough, but getting in the water was the key to achieve my inner peace. Moray eels, small stuff, coral, big fish, small fish. I'm just happy to be underwater.
While I was gone, the missus was trying to absorb the knowledge from the video and book which I think she was getting a bit tired of. So she welcomed a short relaxation break, after which we headed out together on my second dive and her first. We did a beach entry since Krysia was doing some confined water skills and couldn't go deep yet, after which we proceeded on a fun dive down to about 12 meters. Visibility was rather poor, due to proximity of the shore and a lot of sediment and the reef was pretty much dead or dying. Nonetheless the missus enjoyed her first open water dive (not counting the handholding dive she did in Turkey) immensly and therefore so did I. It seems I found a partner for my diving adventures who's as enthusiastic about it as I am.

A good place with a good curry is always a winner!

It's funny how little it takes to keep me happy. Diving makes you hungry so we had to eat. We went back to Sabang Fast Food, which has little to do with fast food but turned out a winner yesterday. Our curries today were excellent too. Then a short stop at Eddie's for some internet since our Wi-Fi is absolutely pathetic and off to early sleep.

On to better and brighter things (well... maybe not brighter)

Woke up with only one thought: get the fuck out of Manila. This place is driving me crazy. Before we did, it drove me just a bit crazier. A short review of our hotel to explain why.

Tune Hotel Makati - 

a cheap, no frills place to stay in the middle of Makati City. Cheap, clean and comfortable rooms in not so good location (as witnessed by an expensive cab ride to get here). Location prone to flooding during storms, monsoons and typhoons (pretty much between June and November every year). Very affordable rates, provided you do not use any of the normally expected services of a hotel. Towel and toiletries: extra charge. Extended check-out or early check-in: extra charge equal to half of nightly rate. Leaving your luggage with the porter so you can nip out for a late breakfast: extra charge which in case of 4 bags adds a nightly charge to your bill.

All in all, Tune hotels, which are run by a budget airline Air Asia, are a good deal only if you don't use them for anything but the most basic function: sleep during the night and get out.

After grabbing a taxi we had the same problem as the night before getting to our bus station: flooded streets and not being able to pass. Our cab driver started whining awfully about being stuck in traffic and not making money. Hello... as far as I'm concerned the meter is running and this is your job and your risk. His whining got so bad after a while that we just told him to pull up at the nearest gas station, got out, paid him his due and told him to fuck off. We were still 3km away from our bus station though. We tried walking, but streets were impassable with flood water up to your waist. What to do, what to do? Finally a good idea came to head and we decided to grab one of the long distance coaches with a high suspension. Success! We were finally at Buendia Bus Station. Bus to Batangas Pier was a piece of cake, leaving every few minutes. Even had a chance to buy some nice chow for the ride. Deep fried dumplings (dumplings truly are a food present in every culture around the world) proved a hit with both of us and we were on our way.

Batangas Pier presented another to cheat stupid tourists with "the boat guy" recommended by the bus driver himself turning out to be nothing more than a hustler who had nothing to do with the boat and was out to scam you for a few bucks here and there. As we were walking to the station they started multiplying: one to pull one bag, one to talk to us, one to talk to the one talking to us, and one just hanging around for no particular purpose. Before we knew it they were asking for service payments for all four of them. I mean seriously, is every white tourist an idiot with a target on his head? It is exactly this kind of behavior which makes tourists distrustful of such people and countries (like me being a good example of sharing all these negative stories with the readers). But I guess they will never learn as long as there is a buck to earn by ripping off tourists. While already on the pier we realized that we were missing embarkation cards which were taken by our "guides" but not given back to us. Hmm... another scam, what a surprise. This time the missus, praise her golden head, came to the rescue. I think the true reason is that after yesterday she felt that I was actually ready to kill the next person I talk to. Lo and behold she produced two new embarkation cards for free (even though they carried a price of 50 piso each). Honey, I'm proud of you.

An hour boat ride later we were finally on Sabang beach looking for our place. When we found it, the dive shop Dive VIP was closed. Fortunately a local boy helped us find the owner, an Aussie John. With Aussie like informality we were given our keys and told that we'd be diving tomorrow at 10:30. A "little friend" in our room (a 2 inch cockroach) reminded us that we were now adventure travelers. But the mood has improved greatly despite the absolutely awful downpour. We were on an island.

A roam around the island found us a local eatery where after two days in moody hell we decided to indulge in a nice dinner. Chicken for the missus and a plate of fried sea cockroaches according to Kris (read: shrimp) with a couple beers fit the bill quite nicely. And we finally found Tonic! After purchasing a liter in duty free in Moscow, we've been carrying it since Japan trying to find tonic to mix it with to no avail. Until this day, when we not only found tonic, but also ice made with filtered water, which made for a really good night.

Apogee of negative karma

Happy honeymooners

Our flight on Cebu Pacific was probably the longest trip save the Moscow-Tokyo and returning Beijin-Moscow. The biggest problem, not having any Philippino currency, was solved aboard when I found out that any purchases made on the plane in US dollars would return the change in pisos. Great! Two beers and sandwiches later we had some money for the taxi. Even though the exchange rate was a rip off. As far as the legroom goes though, Cebu Air is probably the most cramped airline I've ever flown.

After arriving at our hotel, I jumped out after midnight to discover the neighborhood: Makati. Fair to say that visit went quite well, reminiscent of my old ways: roaming the streets, chatting to some people. Got two bottles of beer, some fried peanuts and meat on the stick to take back to the missus. True, I had a run in with a rat the size of a cat and a cockroach the size of a rat, but things like that are to be taken in stride. We are in Asia, nearly third world (though Philippinos would probably object to that). But all in all, Manila has made a good first impression. Oh how quickly things would change...

Finally some real meat for the lady

The next day we were woken up to the sound of torrential rain. Yes, it's the rainy season, but here came a typhoon. The rain didn't want to let off for a bit. Eventually when it died down, we jumped out to town for a quick day of exploring. We're planning only a one-day stay in Manila before moving on to Puerto Galera for some diving. Trip to town yielded a good breakfast: chicken grilled with some fine spices which was good enough to keep the lady happy. It only went downhill from there. You've been warned on Facebook about this not being a positive blog: well, here it begins.

We decided to go to Intramuros to explore, a Spanish colonial area in Manila. Getting there was an adventure, but a fun one: a ride in a Jeepney where it's impossible not to hit your head on the roof, followed by a crowded LRT ride with throngs of Philippinos gawking at two tall, white strangers (one of them a blonde woman). Upon arriving at the station we made a crucial mistake of being talked into (perhaps it was a spur of the moment, perhaps a case of heat-stroke) taking a bike riksha ride around Intramuros. After agreeing on a price we got into a contraption barely big enough to hold one of our asses, not both, followed by a rocky ride and descriptions read from a map by a guy who barely spoke English. The fact that every five minutes he'd stop by some wall and suggested we walk across it (and save him the pedaling) was all right to the point, lazy fucker. When he dropped us off at a fort to explore we were almost up to our agreed upon time. I wanted to pay him and have him disappear, but a case of miscommunication, misunderstanding or perhaps heat stroke again, left us wandering around the compound with him waiting outside for us. The fort... what can I say: my emotions are clouded, but the fort was crap. After exiting the fort and having to dodge two or three sunglasses and hat sellers pestering us about buying their counterfeit crap ("You promised later! Now later, you buy! Good price.") we were promptly led into a souvenir store for more time wasting activities. Ok, I know the drill, the drivers bring us to stores and they get kickbacks. It's ok with me really, if it keeps the missus happy to get some nice cheap trinkets, but the guy is still waiting outside. And what did not make me happy was being harassed by the riksha driver to pay us double upon exiting. Explanation being we used more time so we pay double. Yeah... 10 minutes more for which you're already being paid anyway. Buddy, you did half the work, then drove us to places with kickbacks and still expect us to pay you for extra time? I have to commend Kris here for showing some tough-as-nails bitch attitude and telling him now way in hell, because I just wanted to bash his fucking skull in. I did not but it got me in a sufficiently bad mood to kill the positive first impression.

On the way back to the hotel we stopped at a mall for some shopping and just to check out Manila's biggest tourist draw: it's shopping malls. Big, loud, with tons of Starbucks and McDonald's. Just your typical mall. On the way out we got stranded by the biggest downpour I have experienced in my life. The typhoon has just hit and was pouring thousands of gallons of water per second. Standing inside of the LRT station entrance was fun enough, but not being able to catch a Jeepney back home was something completely different. Apparently Makati was completely flooded with no traffic able to come in or out. We finally grabbed a cab, after negotiating the price down to a reasonable double the normal (for traffic conditions). Some hour later (normal time 10 minutes), we finally arrived near home with the cabbie not even making the effort to drop us off at the hotel, just at the main street. A nice Chinese dinner and some beers finished off this rather forgettable day.

What's the moral of the story? 1. Do not trust people. Yeah, it sucks, but it's true. Street sellers and anyone providing a tourist service is out to screw you as hard as possible. 2. Learn to say no: the hard way. With a "fuck off" if necessary. The level of harassment on the street is truly amazing, but the level of harassment you get if you try to be nice is truly unbelievable. If you do not want something, if you don't want to buy, participate or talk to someone, just tell them "no" and avoid any type of interaction with them. Otherwise suffer the consequences. What I don't understand, why after traveling around the world a couple of times and putting more than one million miles in my frequent flyer accounts I've got duped again.

Ok, rant over. Next post, much more positive.

Toalety i inne elektroniczne cuda.

Po wczorajszej pobudce o wschodzie słońca, dzisiaj Mąż wyraził zgodę na nieco dłuższe spanie.

7 godzin to jeszcze nie ideał, ale nie można mieć od razu wszystkiego. Przynajmniej na spokojnie spakowałam wszystkie rzeczy, które rzekomo zawsze rozrzucam po pokoju. Muszę tutaj dać małe sprostowanie – ja po prostu zajmuję strategiczne pozycje.

Funkcji więcej niż w mojej komórce.

Po wymeldowaniu się z pokoju, udaliśmy się do 'Zamku Osaka', położonego w centrum miasta, otoczonego przez kilka fos i całkiem spory park. Gorąc nadal nie odpuszczał, więc przyjęłam zasadę skakania z cienia w cień. Zamek wrażenie robi spore, choć z oryginalnej konstrukcji nie pozostało nic. W środku – wystawa poświęcona historii regionu i budowli fortecy. Mnie osobiście najbardziej zafascynowała …. toaleta. Tak wiem – aż wstyd się przyznać – ale jeśli sedes ma więcej funkcji niż nie jeden salon spa, można popaść w zachwyt. Standardowo: bidet na dwie strony z regulacją temperatury i ciśnienia wody oraz głośnik z odgłosem płynącej wody (tak do zagłuszenia :). Jako bonus: suszarka (właśnie tak – mała wysuwająca się rurka osuszająca zadek) i … możliwość masażu -małe prywatne trzesienie ziemi na kibelku.

I na co komu te wodorosty?

Szybka wizyta na poczcie (już się baliśmy że zamiast wysłać kartki, dostarczymy je osobiście) i dalej w poszukiwaniu fajnego miejsca na zjedzenie lunchu. Po drodze udało nam się uszczęsliwić dwóch Japończyków, z których jeden był wniebowzięty możliwością zrobienia sobie z nami zdjecia, a drugi tym że mógł z Mężem pogadać po angielsku. Brzuchy zostałe zapełnione 'okonomiyaki' w stylu osaczańskim – czyli bez makaronu. Jak na złość musieli mi dosypać rybno-wodorostowego świństwa i po raz kolejny Bartek musiał mnie ratować. (O przygodach z japońskimi rarytasami napiszę w sosobnym poście).

Jak przystało na mądrych i doświadczonych podróżników – odłożyliśmy pewną sumę na tzw. 'czarną godzinę'. Mając jednak w perspektywie rychły wylot, postanowilismy kupić jakieś drobne pamiątki. Z zapałem ruszyliśmy więc do dzielnicy sklepów. No i mały psikus. Centrum handlowe o powierzchni Pragi Południe i ledwo znalezione dwa sklepy, w których ceny od razu nas wygoniły. Stwierdziliśmy, że naszą szansą będzie lotnisko. Przewidywania się sprawdziły i prawie udało mi się zdenerwować Męża, kiedy musiał czekać, bo nie mogłam zdecydować się na wzór i kolor kosmetyczki. Takie tam babskie dylematy.

Odprawa w stylu Japońskim – czyli szybko, miło i przyjemnie. Ważne – i niech wszyscy to wiedzą: założyłam się z Bartkiem, że kto drugi przejdzie przez odprawę paszportową zje smażonego insekta.(wybraliśmy dwie różne kolejki) Mąż od dziś będzie pamiętał żeby nie ustawiać się za rodziną z dzieckiem – bo może się okazać że mają ich pięcioro. Bon apetit – kochanie :)

Samolot trochę opóźniony – ale to mało ważne. Okazało się, że to latające przedszkole. Ponad połowa pasażerów to dzieci. Wrzeszczące, krzyczące, płaczące,biegające – jednym słowem ...denerwujące. Co dziwne, część z nich to mali Japończycy – a do tej pory wszystkie japońskie dzieci jakie widziałam to małe śliczne aniołki. Nic to...piwo zawsze pomaga, jeszcze dwie godziny lotu. Może uda mi się nie udusić małego bachorka który sukcesywnie nokautuje moje krzesło.

Sayonara Japonio – Filipiny welcome to.

Nostalgic for Mr. Roboto

Last day greeted with me with nostalgia for a country as yet undeparted. I shall miss Japan as I did last time I left it. I shall miss the politeness, the sexy legs, the food (something the missus sure won't), the weirdness, the efficiency, the public transport, the social aspect of being a gaijin, the vending machines. I'll just miss most of it.

We slept in a bit, and after packing decided to take it easy the last day in the Land of the Rising Sun. Off to Osaka Castle for some sightseeing, grab some food, find a post office, do some souvenir shopping.

Pumpkins

Osaka-jo was nice, albeit a bit... samey. After Inuyama Castle, Kyoto Jo and Hiroshima, the architecture gets a bit old. You recognized the steep roofs, the angry fish-dolphin motives, the steep stairs. But the view was worth climbing up to the 8^th floor. Ladies at the counter were actually useful this time and pointed us towards a post office nearby and a food street where my target munchies could be located.

Finally getting rid of the post cards which we'd carried since Kyoto was a load of my chest. Not to be picky, but overpaying for stupid postcards and stamps and then not sending them out would seem such a waste. A quick ride to Namba on the subway and we found ourselves looking for a way to spend our last monies: food and trinkets would fit the bill nicely. The first one was easily accomplished: we found an okonomiyaki place off the main drag and managed to have some delish Japanese omelet. I remembering ordering ika and getting tako instead. Good change, although it was a surprise to find octopus in a squid dish. Kris went for... pork. What else? Actually two slices of bacon fit the bill quite nicely, not for the bonito shavings which screwed up her experience a bit. I just don't get it though. She does love smoked salmon, so what's wrong with smoked and dried bonito? I did scrape it off her omelet and she managed to finish it mostly.

Having finished eating, it was time to find some souvenirs. I hate them myself. I have tons of useless knick knacks and trinkets from my travels that collect dust somewhere on a shelf long unseen, or perhaps are packed tightly in a box in my dad's walk-in closet in Seattle. I like pragmatic things like... booze and pens, and electronics, and coffee. Not snowglobes, hanging things and cute things. I wanted to buy a yukatta in Kyoto but just missed the store on our last day. Pity cause it'd come in useful for costume parties. But we had some money leftover that we'd exchanged yesterday and we had to spend it. At the difficulty with spending money in Japan was the first true surprise of this honeymoon. In one of the most expensive countries on Earth we could not find a decent souvenir store. Something with nice Japanese stuff of course. After buying a couple hand-made postcards a decision was made to go back to the hotel, take our luggage and go to the airport and try our luck there.

Armed with our bags, we headed towards Namba and Kansai International. The ride was long but uneventful. And Osaka Kansai International Airport was the cure for our unspent money. Great souvenir stores, food and drink, even one with yukattas (albeit at prices out of a normal beings ranged). We bid adieu to Japan for one last time as the plane took off to the rainy Manila.