Road Trip part 1

Hi. Here is part 1 of the road trip. I'm going to post it in sections since it's very long and I haven't finished re-typing it yet. Here goes...

March 19, 2006 - Day 1

At long last! After many weeks of waiting and almost tasting the adventure to come, we finally get to go! We got up at five am today and since we pre-loaded the car the night before, we just got in, said a prayer and left.

A seven hour trip brought us to our first official stop – Daet in the Bicol Province. Surfing was the name of the game as far as we were concerned so we eagerly set about looking for someone who could at least teach us which end of the surfboard went where. We looked and looked and after more than a few vague suggestions by the locals, we found Baker. Baker runs a small, rundown surfboard rental place and had but one surfboard and a couple of boogie boards but, what the heck right? He seemed to be the only surfer dude around and it would be such a shame to just forego what we came here for. So, expecting to be royally fleeced, my friend Ryan and I decided to go for it. You know how sometimes when you just go ahead and do something, things actually go your way? It turns out that Baker was a hell of a nice guy and what he charged us for what was an excellent afternoon comes out to no more than what you would expect to pay for a movie and some popcorn with two friends (parking not included). So we closed the deal and agreed to meet later on that afternoon.

We drove around looking for a hotel and what we found was the Hebris Penthaus. Nothing five-star mind you, in fact, it looked like a firetrap to me. But, beggars can’t be choosers. We got our stuff into the room, changed into beach clothes and sat around enjoying the air conditioning while we waited for out appointment with Baker.

Time to surf. We tried, I tried, Ryan tried but only Ryan’s wife Vani really got the hang of the boogie board thing. The shows you get to see on TV make surfing look sooo easy, killer waves and all, not true. Getting the board to move was like having to restart a video game you keep losing to again and again but, like said video game, there’s no way you can let it go.

Time came to finally surrender to the relentless waves and head back to shore. We sat on the beach for a while, flew a kite, talked, smoked, took pictures and generally just waited for our second wind before heading back to the car for a sandwich and some more juice.

We drove back to Baker’s hut, shared a smoke and some food with them while we talked about surfing and anything else that came to mind. They were inviting us over for drinks later but we had to pass. We were tired. So, we went back to the hotel, left again for dinner in the city and that was that. I’ll have to go now, it’s getting kind of late and we have to leave early tomorrow because Caramoan awaits.

March 20, 2006 - Day 2

Today’s goal was Caramoan Bay in Camarines Sur. We got this idea from the Action Asia Guide to the Philippines book and given the amazing photos the lucky duck of a photographer took, there really was not much of a choice. So we set off from the Hebris Penthaus fire trap filled with visions of camping out under the stars in the assumed paradise of Caramoan and hoped we could get there in one piece. We never made it. Why? I’ll tell you in a while but first, let me tell you about the journey. Like I said, we set out from our Daet hotel at 8:25 am with me at the wheel. We planned a few stops along the way for those places we deemed were worth seeing like the first ever monument to Joe Rizal. Honestly, I was expecting something more impressive. Something at par with the monument in Luneta which, we should all be familiar with by now. Instead, all we got to see was a crude phallic structure with a pointy tip and a star on top. The whole monument was painted a very pedestrian white while its base bore the titles of the novels written by Rizal. This not only robbed it of the dignity of age, it cheapened it as well thus depriving travelers who come to see it the recognition of a vital link to the past. More noteworthy though, was a smaller monument behind the Rizal road marker (that’s what it looked like – a big one). Now, this one was set on a Mactan stone wall and it bore the names of those who belonged to the Daet defense force who fought the Japs to keep their town free. The bravery of such men is more significant, at least to me.

On this leg, we didn’t really stop at too many places but there is one more place that really hit the spot. This was Laniton Park in Basud. The site of the first battle of the guerilla forces with the Japanese. The sign said it took place on December 18, 1942 at 4:30 in the morning. Must’ve been horrible for everyone concerned. There was an embossed mural there and a plaque which bore the story of the fight and a few vandals markings as well. Stupid idiots.

A few pictures later and we were off again. We traveled through mountain roads which thankfully were well paved and made it to Naga City for lunch. Naga would remind anyone of Manila’s Chinatown district. Too bad we really couldn’t stay too long because we still had a ways to go.

We proceeded to the town of Tigaon in Camarines Sur to begin our push for Caramoan in earnest. The book said that it might take three to four hours by car and almost everyone we asked said we could make it but as it turns out, the one guy who said we couldn’t turns out to be right. To say that the roads were bad was not really true because the roads were terrible. Even if the car makes it through in one piece, doubtful, four hours of being shaken and thrown about inside the car would have taken a big toll on us. So, after an hours’ worth of sit down exercises, we decided to call it quits.

This brings us to the close of today’s tale, almost. I’m on my belly right now writing inside our room at the Bellevue Hotel in San Jose, Camarines Sur right beside the port where we are to take a boat to Caramoan. It’s a nice place run by two elderly caretakers but it does have a bit of creepy in it. For instance, we’re the only guests here, it’s dark everywhere, and the many religious statues don’t really add to ones confidence (they look creepy too). On the plus side though, our room has air conditioning, a huge bathroom with a built in Jacuzzi and we had a nice long beach almost to ourselves this afternoon. Plus, the lady of the house cooked us a nice meal which we were very thankful for so I guess its ok. I have to go now. Both my friends are asleep. We have to be up by five to take the first boat trip to Caramoan. It just goes to show, that when there’s a will… there’s probably a boat going there. Goodnight.

March 21, 2006 – Day 3

I’m writing form inside my tent right now, under the glare of a very strong flashlight. Its hot in here, I’m sweating, I’m full of sand but, who cares? I don’t get to do this everyday anyway. We’re camped out at Gota Beach in Caramoan and I have to say, I wish we were someplace else. Gota Beach is one of the most popular camp sites here in Caramoan but sad to say, it isn’t really very clean. There are the usual ants, lots of bugs that bite, trash scattered along the beach, and there seem to be a few questionable elements mixed in with the sand (i.e. dog poop, or worse…). On the plus side though, its deserted, we have a good fire going, and there’s a magnificent carpet of stars just outside my zippered front door. Let me tell you how we got here…

We left the Bellevue Hotel at 6:30 am and walked to the port (right beside the hotel) so we could catch the early boat to Caramoan but as it turns out, we were too early so we sat down and began our vigil. As we sat there, a group of men approached us and one of them started a conversation. Always happy to meet new people, we obliged. We had no way of knowing until the caretaker of the hotel told us that the guy we’ve been talking to is the mayor of the town we were to visit. Nice guy.

We got on the boat, a big, dirty banca-cum-freighter, loaded to the gills with chicken feed. Beggars can’t be choosers right? Our emotions were mixed as the decrepit vessel got underway; we were happy to be finally moving but we were also worried as hell because the rickety old boat might sink. There was even this manual bilge pump used to remove water that’s seeped into the hull in plain sight of the passengers that the crew took turns in pumping. Talk about confidence builders… It was also very hot inside the boat so I decided to sit on of the planks running around the hull of the boat. There was no shade but the sea breeze was very, very pleasant. I put some music on and actually enjoyed the ride very much.

March 22, 2006 – Day 4

I couldn’t write anymore last night so I’ll pick up where I left off… We finally got to the Port of Caramoan and were pleasantly surprised to find that the mayor footed the bill for our passage. He also paid for the tricycle we took to his house, gave us something to snack on and had someone cook a very nice lunch of garlic fried pork, fish and squid. He was also nice enough to take us to take us to Paniman which was our jump off point to Gota Beach.

Getting to Paniman, like the rest of the trip was still hard despite having a vehicle with 4 wheels (instead of the usual 3). The road was rough, dusty, and at the speed that the Mayor was driving, it was inevitable that we would blow a tire. There were four nuts on each wheel and, as Murphy’s Law would have it, the wheel that blew had one bad nut that just wouldn’t come off. We tried everything we could think of, borrowed tools, and lifted the vehicle via people power (no jack available) to take pressure off the rim. The last thing we tried, the most destructive method, was to use a chisel and hammer to pry the nut loose. Thankfully, this worked (screw you Murphy) although after that, there were only three nuts left on the wheel (this didn’t matter much since the other wheels had a nut or two missing as well).

When we finally got to where we were going, we all breathed a sigh of relief until I checked my waist. I left my belt bag at the mayors’ house. I took it off before we had lunch and forgot all about it (silly me). I told him and he called someone on his cell to bring it over (the distance to cover just to fix this mistake was considerable). We waited awhile, I got the bag back and we thanked the mayor for his hospitality and that was that. The kindness of strangers is often overlooked. Take for instance, the mayor. He treated us better than we had a right to expect but, we’ll probably never see him again. So, if you ever get to read this Mayor Benemerito of Caramoan. Thanks again.

We were tired and dirty as we got on the boat but instead of going straight to Gota Beach, we did a little island hopping first. The rock formations were awesome and the clear turquoise waters surrounding some of the islands looked like something you would see on a really posh travel mag. Nice as it was, we didn’t know that this place harbored a very nasty secret but I’ll get to that in a little while. Satisfied with what we had seen, we asked the boat guys to leave us at Gota Beachand pick us up at 7 the next morning so we could snorkel around the islands a bit before heading back to Paniman.

We got up just before 6 am. It was freezing and damp and our bodies were sore from the unaccustomed experience of sleeping on uneven ground. We stretched out a bit, broke camp and as agreed, the boatmen picked us up at 7. We loaded our gear on the boat got in and went to the sites that looked promising the day before but when we got in the water, we promptly discovered the nasty secret I was telling you about. This was a place of death. No fish and dead corals all done in by blast fishing and sodium cyanide poisoning. It was very sad because, aside from Gota Beach,the other islands would have been perfect to show off the beauty that this country has tucked away. Too bad.

For all, the trouble it took to get to this place, the bounty we expected fell way short. The long drive, the rough roads, the walk to the port, the flat tire, the beautiful dead sea, the sand fleas (I’m itching like hell), and even the boxing match I almost had with a troublesome, deranged native just wasn’t worth it. It could’ve been though… if only the people there took care of what they had.

We stopped back at the Bellevue Hotel to take a bath, put our gear and ourselves in order and pick up our car. The old couple cheerfully took us in again and this time refused to take anything from us in return. So, we did our thing (the bath I took was wonderful), thanked them and went on our way. Looking back once as we passed their gate I remember thinking that their service was something to look forward to (if I ever do go back). It was home cooked, as it were, and that counts for a lot in my book.

With Caramoan behind us (thank God), we went on with the road trip. Nothing much happened today, lunch at Jolibee in Iriga City, a few more pictures and a badly needed pit stop at a gas station in Camalig. And we also stopped by the Cagsawa ruins in Daraga (it’s a church buried when Mayon Volcano erupted a long time ago). Not much to say about this place since the view of Mayon was, as usual, obscured by clouds. The bell tower however, was as morose as when I last saw it. Gorgeous photo-op if only Mayon had shown herself. I took pictures anyway.

Today’s final destination is Legazpi City. We made it and right now, we’re holed up at my Brother-in-Law’s house (he’s from here). It was a short drive from the Cagsawa ruins but the sum of the days' travelling is taking its toll on us. Ryan and Vani are both dead asleep and, as I can hardly keep my eyes open, will be too, in a few minutes...

Tomorrow’s agenda is Ticao Island in Masbate where I hope things turn out better than the past two days… screw it. That’s it for now. Goodnight.

March 23, 2006 – Day 5

We got up early today to begin our trip to Ticao but, as it turns out, there was another hitch in our well laid plans. My friend at the Ticao Island Resort sent me a message saying he can’t take us in today, could we come on Saturday instead? Of course we couldn’t so we decided to go whale shark watching in Donsol instead. After first getting a much needed carwash, and having a rattle under the car checked out, we began our trip to Donsol. There was nothing much to see between where we were and where we were going so there were relatively few stops along the way.

The first interesting thing that happened today was seeing a whaleshark. These bus-sized animals were almost unreal as none of us had ever seen one up close and personal before. To me, the almost looked like something that might come out of a shipyard. Yet, big as these creatures may be, they are generally harmless unless of course, you’re dumb enough to swim too close and get whacked by a mammoth tailfin. I took a few shots with the underwater camera I brought. Along but since flash photography was not allowed, I doubt if any of the pictures I took would even come out. We saw five of these behemoths in the span of an hour and a half, four while we were in the water and the fifth from the boat as it swam almost directly under our hull.

We could have stayed longer and probably seen more but we still had a long way to go if we were to leave Luzon Island before night fall. We were back on the road as soon as we had packed and stowed our gear and clothes. We skipped lunch just so we could reach the port in Matnog which is, at the farthest end of southern Luzon Initially, we had planned to drop by the Bulusan Volcano National Park on our way to Matnog but since Mt. Bulusan erupted slightly yesterday, we thought it best not to push our luck. You never know, the volcano might just do a Pompeii, a Mount Saint Helens, or even a Pinatubo. Time for bed. I’m exhausted. I’ll pick up where I left off tomorrow.