Road Trip part 2

March 24, 2006 – Day 6

Ok…where were we? Ah yes, Mt. Bulusan. Like I said earlier, we initially planned to visit Bulusan Park before we left Luzon Island but we really didn’t have to because we could see the volcano clearly from the highway. The summit was free of clouds and the volcano itself, painted gold by the dying sun, couldn’t have been clearer. We could even see wisps of smoke rising from its crater as we drove along. We stopped several times to take pictures of this natural time bomb, getting images that were well worth every kilometer of this long drive.


The drive south, aside from the golden volcano and a few shattered trucks along the way, was pretty much uneventful; just a long, quiet cruise through the country side on roads that seldom bear the weight of heavy passage. We drove along till we reached the port which had an ark reminding us that we were about to leave the island of Luzon. We couldn’t believe our luck when we entered the port. There was a ferry just about ready to depart and we could still catch it if we hurried. Vani and I got out to do the paperwork while Ryan drove the car to the pier entrance. Our big break was short-lived however, because of the incompetence of a couple of processing clerks that didn’t seem to know what they were doing. As a result, we missed the boat and had to wait almost three hours before we could get underway again.

The gates to the pier finally opened at 8 pm. We drove through and were second on the boat “helped” by a very annoying dock worker who did little more than rattle me as I backed the car up to the end of the ferry. After I got out of the car, I gave the mendicant dockworker 20 bucks for his “services” after telling me that any amount will do. He gave me a very dissatisfied and disappointed look and brazenly asked for more since he told me there were two of them. I told him that that was all I could afford. He continued to pester me as I made my way to the purser to pay our boarding fees and almost all the way to the stairs he hung around. He never did get more than that 20 I gave him. I don’t want to appear mean or stingy or selfish but I don’t see why I should have even paid for something I didn’t ask for much less for something that didn’t help me one little bit.

Anyway, after the usual boarding stress, we settled down for the hour long trip. I went up to the bridge and met the captain who graciously allowed me to take pictures of the wheel house as the boat left dock and got underway. I took my shots, thanked the captain and went below to where Ryan and Vani were. We chatted a while and then went out to the open area of the second deck to enjoy the night breeze. I moved on after a while to a secluded area farther down the deck, put on my earphones and listened to Pat Metheny’s One Quiet Night. The music blended perfectly with the quiet throbbing of the ship and enhanced the awe I felt just looking at the magnificent carpet of stars that covered the night sky. I was actually sad to hear the ship’s whistle blow signaling the end of the trip but then again, I was also excited and anxious to move on to a place I’d never been to before. Samar beckons.

We left the Paradise Inn (that’s where we spent the night) at 8 am. We had some plans laid out for today but these were skewed by the appalling mess that Northern and Eastern Samar’s roads had become. It seemed that the highway had more potholes than road surface. We had to go through 250 kilometers of this shit stopping only once to eat in Calbayog. We took turns on the wheel but the sheer torture of driving through this corrupted landscape left us all exhausted. Trucks and buses passed us by with maddening frequency seemingly unmindful of the cracks on the road that could utterly destroy a vehicle like ours. We could either join them and risk demolishing our ride or drive granny style and get to our destination in one piece. I’m betting you know the answer to that one don’t you? We drove an average of 40 kilometers an hour for 250 kilometers. Do the math.

As we crawled along, we saw the turn-off going towards the Calbiga Caves which, we had planned to visit. We took the turn. The sign said seven kilometers to go but when we got a bit farther down the trail, we saw an Army camp, complete with howitzer, set up. We decided on the spot to turn back because we figured, they must be up there for a reason and none of us wanted to know the reason first hand and perhaps have a bullet deliver it besides, it was a three kilometer walk to the caves (something the sign didn’t warn us about). So, we backtracked and were relieved to see the main highway again. As an added bonus, the road after the Calbiga turn-off became smooth at last.

Aside from the usual photo-op stop, there was nothing interesting to see until we got to Marabut. There were bridges, rivers, coastlines and rock formations and the setting sun once again, lent its warm golden light to everything, giving this place an almost magical golden glow that astounded us no end. The deserted, pristine beaches sometimes facing huge natural monoliths makes me want to buy a beachfront property and retire here one day (if only I could afford it). I most definitely will try to come back and explore some more.

Today was hard…but as I lie here on my belly writing this, I realize that few ever get to go on such an adventure and I am truly blessed and thankful to be part of it. You learn stuff along the way. So before we close shop for tonight, remember that there will always be potholes, traffic jams and disappointments but there will also always be smooth roads, stars, and sunshine too. Most times they all get mixed up so the job of taking the good and leaving the bad will always be up to you.

March 25 - Day 7

Nothing much to say today except the weather turned foul. Before this happened though, Ryan and I at least got half an hours’ worth of snorkeling in. Nice to see that the coral formations in Marabut, although not pristine, seem to be coming back to life. Maybe in another decade or so they might be called beautiful.

We dropped by the town of Balanginga after leaving Marabut to see the site of the massacre of Americans by Filipinos in 1901. Needless to say, the Yanks took revenge and slaughtered a lot of Filipinos too over the course of six months. They also took a church bell back home with them to Wyoming. The people there, apparently, want it back. No dice.

That’s about it for today, other than crossing into Leyte via the San Juanico Bridge and getting a sneak peek at the statues of MacArthur et al at the MacArthur park, we pretty much got rained in. Well, as Annie used to sing, the sun will come out tomorrow…I hope. TV calls. Goodnight.

March 26 – Day 8

For once I’m sitting on a chair and writing this on a table…feels different. Anyway, We finally left the Visayas today and after a long land trip, seven hours, and another three and a half hours on a ferry, we’re pretty much exhausted. But, tired or not, I’m still compelled to write this daily log of sorts so today’s memories remain fresh. So, here goes…

We left the budget hotel in Tacloban City at 8:45 am and began the day’s travel. After being rained in yesterday we were all eager to make up for lost time. Our first stop was MacArthur
Park, the site of Douglas MacArthurs return to the Philippines. There were larger than life statues of Doug and his friends shown wading ashore. It was nice to behold and made me think of what we all would look like right now had he decided not to come back…for that alone, you, should see it at least once. Besides, it’s nice.

We made a brief stop at the Palo Metropolitan Cathedral, which we were told, was a field hospital back in the day. Nothing much to see now except for the towers of the Cathedral which of course, we took pictures of.

Next stop was Hill 522. This was the site of a bloody battle between the Japanese and American forces which ended as expected thus making the town the first in Palo, Leyte to be liberated. Too bad it rained yesterday. Mud was everywhere and we couldn’t really see anything except for the big cross on top of the hill. It would’ve been nice to climb up to it. Plus, signs pointing to the site were worn and neglected thus making this obscure historical site easy to miss.

Next was Hill 120 this was where the American flag was first raised again after it was taken down when Bataan fell. Among the things to see were statues, albeit crudely made, re-enacting the raising of the flag (I suppose), a Japanese marker, and the grave of an unknown U.S. soldier. There was also a path leading to the top of the hill where a local said were more statues. We didn’t bother climbing because of the mud and it was very slippery.

We also, well, at least Ryan did, saw a Japanese cemetery turned laundry area, and a shrine to a certain Captain Isao Yamazoe whoever he was. There were markings on his grave but since none of us could read Japanese…you get the picture. Could've been a butcher for all we knew.

The place where we saw the cemetery and the shrine must have been a Japanese stronghold. A surprising number of locals there looked different from the rest of the locals we’ve seen elsewhere. They look Japanese. Some of them looked so different that I doubt they would be noticed as foreigners if they ever went to Japan provided of course, that they kept their mouths shut.

We decided to skip a planned trip to Ormoc City since it would have meant backtracking a long way. Instead, we pushed for the Liloan port to catch the ferry to Surigao. We made it on time but, as luck would have it, we caught the slowest, junkiest boat they had. So, instead of the standard 3 hour trip, our passage took four hours not counting the two hours spent waiting for the boat to get moving. That said, it really wasn’t all bad. Traveling by ship does have its appeal. The solitude of the sea and the constant breeze generated by the ship is something I always look forward to. It transcends the monotony of passage, clears the head of any and all concerns, and allows the mind to wander to places far beyond the confines of consciousness. It lets you dream, scheme, think and savor thoughts and ideas that are normally obscured by the white noise that we must fill our heads with just to get through the day.

Today, as usual, was tiring and a bit frustrating. But, I guess that’s a big part of what traveling is. You just take the good from the bad and then you remember… We saw many things today and took a lot of pictures some of which, made this long, long trip worth every kilometer.
Well, that’s it. Time to go. I saw a bar just outside our hotel and I think I’ll grab a few beers before I go to bed. Goodnight.

March 27 - Day 9

The Tavern Bar kicks ass, at least for this place I suppose. There’s this band playing, I don’t know the name yet, but the girl singers are hot (the guy their singing with looks like a gorilla). One girl singer in particular looks like Rose McGowan. She cant pronounce worth a shit but she looks like an angel.

It’s a quarter to one on a Monday but the bar is still at least a third full, the dance floor is still packed. The girls here dance and grind like there is no tomorrow. I’m writing this while drinking so if my thoughts are a bit disjointed then, tough luck…

There are P’s and F’s flying around but the people here seem to be digging the groove and as I write are flocking back to the dance floor. Rockers and hip-hoppers and all those in between are mixing it up on the dance floor. Strange sight really…

It’s now past one. Actually, it’s almost two, again, on a Monday. Damn, don’t these people have work? Wait, wait, there’s this woman almost old enough to be my grandmother dancing her heart out. You go Granny. There’s this group of kids maybe 17 or so, well, not kids really but still sort of young to be grinding Monday away but maybe I’m just old fashioned…Gorilla boy is singing this Indian dance tune and he seems to have it down pretty good.

I’m in for a world of hurt tomorrow. We’re going to be pushing for Davao at 7 am and by my watch, it’s now 3 am. Price to pay boy…price to pay. Time to go but before that happens, I have to go find out the name of the band first. Let me go ask…Kin-9 got it.

We finally made it to Davao. It took us just 8 hours to get here from Surigao since according to various “expert” opinions from the locals there, we should expect to arrive in ten to twelve. The highway leading here was magnificent. Sure, there were a few potholes here and there and there was even this long stretch of highway under construction and was thus dusty and unpaved. Didn’t matter too much since you knew something was being done to improve it. The completed part (which was most of the highway) was magnificent. It was very smooth and you could at last crack your throttle wide open and see just how fast you could go before your balls shriveled up. Nice as the highway was though, this leg of the journey was pretty much uneventful. Even photo-op stops were few and far between so we just drove and let the road take us to our destination.

We got to Davao at about 4 pm and headed for Ryan’s family office there. This office will serve as our home for however long it is we’re staying here. We got settled in, left again to get our laundry done and headed over to the house of Vani’s family (yup, she’s from here). Her family was very nice and prepared a wonderful dinner for us. Considering we didn’t stop for lunch, I attacked the meal with a polite voraciousness till I was sated and content.

That was our day today. Long and tiring and fun. That plus the heavy meal I just ate is making me very sleepy so I think I’ll turn in. Goodnight.