Other posts with the tag: Cebu
E Mall, Taoist Temple and monks
The trip is about to end and as much as I hated the heat, I’m going to miss the place.
The last 2 days are spent meeting some old friends, checking out the Taoist Temple (that some would say is like a peculiar style of Chinese architecture with a hundred million stairs) and taking advantage of those cheap drinks.
I decided to meet up with Hannah yesterday, who I met way back when I was first learned Aikido. She’s lives in Dubai now, so we both had a bit of nostalgia for the good old days of Aikido.
I meet up with her at E Mall (nothing illegal is sold there… well, maybe the bins full of pirated DVD’s and CD’s) and we head out to the dojo. We arrive to the general area of where it should be, except, it’s not there.
We spend the next 30 minutes bumming around a side street cafe while Hannah calls people to find out exactly where it was. During this time, I notice an whiteguy, running around the place (even though Cebu is home to a lot of expats, this was surely a place where any expat, or tourist for that matter didn’t belong).
There are a lot of Chinese temples in Cebu, which reflects the huge influx of Chinese immigrants.
Then I heard him speak in the vernacular language(Cebuano) with spot on accuracy on the accent. Before I could find out what his story was, someone who recognized Hannah came from one of the alleys (that we didn’t even notice earlier) and directed us to the dojo.
We finally find the dojo deep in the bowels of high rise apartments and alleys, packed with sweaty practitioners. Our old Sensei and some of his students treat us to a dinner over some street side BBQ’s. Unfortunately, I still don’t have the stomach for chicken feet, or chicken intestines. I’ll stick to the regular and some San Miguel please!
Snorkling in Nalusuan Island
We’ve gotten back to Cebu. We’re going on a stint to an island called Nalusuan, just off the coast of Lapu-Lapu.
My great uncle was very hospitable and offered his place for us to crash at. More than that, he offered one of his vehicles, a personal cook, and a personal tour guide/driver to accompany us, to this island. It sure is beginning to sound like we’re heading off to some uninhabited islands. They were, well almost.
We head out and board a private speed boat. Thankfully, it wasn’t like the pump-boat I previously had to endure. The sea was still choppy, but I had one less thing to worry about.
We arrive at the island’s pier, and the 3 things you first realize are: how remote this islet is, how small it is, and how clear the water really is. It really was about the size of two football fields.
It's hard to find it on the map, but it's there. Promise.
There really is not much to say about this place except it’s awesome, beautiful, and exotic. I practically spend the next two days enjoying tasty meals at our cabins overlooking the water below, snorkeling in crystal clear water, and wondering why the bed sheets have something on it. Nothing like some stains and a dirty mind to foul the mood. They were there before I was. And it sure was to stay that way after I left.
So I do what any normal guy would do, grimace at the sight of it, forget to call room service, remove the sheets and use the in house towels as makeshift sheets. Yeah, I know, those towels probably have it worse. I’m thinking the same, restrospectively. But it seemed like a good idea.
Resort
After the previous day’s unlucky stint, we decide to go to a local resort and pay money to use… the beach. Such a strange idea. Beaches are a commodity and if that commodity includes white sand-blue water clichés, people are willing to pay $200-$300 to stay at that place. But we didn’t. We paid $4 dollars. Sweet!
I practically spent the entire day soaking in the sun, drinking some of the best mango shakes in the world and deciding whether their $50 dollar fresh lobsters at the restaurant were a rip off. It definitely was.
Later that night, we head back to my dad’s place. David’s never ridden a motorcycle, and my dad practically was born in one (I remember riding in his motorbikes growing up). David decides to ride one into the night never to be seen again. Just kidding… really.
Beaches are such a commodity, that you practically have to pay for the right to go to the beach. At least for a nice one.
Birds, high tide and white sands
After several days of being bed ridden, I begin to feel alive. My dad, who’s currently living in Cebu, pays us a visit at the hotel. He’s taking us on an island trip. David’s never been to the Philippines, and he wants to see the blue water-white sand cliché (this particular trip ended up being a wash, but was funny to look at in retrospect) and some wild life bird watching.
We board this 45 minute ferry ride to Olango Wildlife Sanctuary, located in Olango island. We pay the entrance fee of a few dollars equivalent, and the staff give us weird looks. It wasn’t until later we realize that 99% of the birds who normally would be all over the island have returned to their home habitats (this was April, on the cusp of spring). I don’t have the patience to wait to watch birds in scorching 1 p.m. sunny weather. Neither does David, or Roxanne. Granted the place itself is wonderful, it felt too deserted without the birds.
We head back to the island of Lapu-Lapu to formulate another short stint: to check out outlying islets in the Hilutungan channel.
Before venturing out, please consult your local low/high tide calendar.
Given this was a short notice impulse, we manage, or rather, my dad manages to charter a small, wooden, outrigger canoe. The locals affectionately call it “pump-boat” and not for their grace on the water or their elegance when the winds conjure giants waves against its battered sides, but because the engine used is typically from a recycled car engine minus its muffler.
After some price haggling, I am sitting next to this behemoth of an engine who could scream no less bloody murder and the sea air blowing mists on my face. I swear, Ithink my ears are still ringing after several days.
We arrive at the channel of an atol; with two islets on each side and I notice one thing wrong immediately… The water looks like about 5-6 feet deep. Perfect depth if you want to quickly get from one islet to another, but not good when the boat you’re on is too big.The boat driver forgot that it was low tide.We resort to an island away from the channel after this mishap.
David doesn’t get his white sand cliché. This island only has rocks. Lots of jagged prickly rocks.
Philippines
I’m going to the Philippines. On a whim, I said “yes” when my family asked me if I wanted to join them on the trip. This would be my second visit there. The first time was *my plane ride from hell.
We’ll be visiting Cebu for about a week, and Leyte for several days. Now I remember how much changed on my first visit. Everything seemed smaller. Even public restrooms are smaller. We arrive there after a relatively calm plane ride. This time, my mom, sister and brother in law are with me on this trip.
The airport was considerably empty when we flew in that early morning (although early, I was immediately drenched in humid air the moment I stepped off that plane, and will miss the feeling of frigid airplane air for the next two weeks)
If you’ve never been to Cebu, there are a number of words to describe it: metropolitan, loud, flashy, urban jungle, practically a juxtaposition of the traditional and modern, the rampant poverty and the new rich, the clean and the dirty.
We arrive at the hotel. David, brother in-law, Roxanne, sister and I check in and unpack and we decided to hit one of Philippines’ biggest malls, Ayala Center. My mom heads off and stays with her family to catch up.
I admit, I went to a McDonald’s. I ordered two supersized portions of fried chicken, and two drinks. No, I wasn’t a pig and McDee’s here apparently serves chicken like KFC does. You need to realize this when visiting any Asian country, any portion is vastly different from the US. Philippines is no exception. Two drinks equal to a small, and two super-sized portions equal to a regular. And after a long flight, I was craving for a fatty coronary. David is not happy. He thinks it’s blasphemy they serve pasta as a fast food and that they use ketchup as part of the sauce.
Cebu City is smoking hot! And I mean that literally.
Touring around for a bit, we soak in the new place. The mall is the chill place (no pun intended). I saw a lot of college kids. Every college in the Philippines have uniforms. So, although, it was the chill place, it certainly was an ocean of college kids, in multi-colored uniforms. We later get back to the hotel, completely exhausted, and I realize I had made one of those crucial travel mistakes; acclimation period. I wake up the next day sick as a dog, suffering from the flu.
David and Roxanne head out the next few days without me, as I stay bunkered up in my A/C’ed room. That last chicken was good.
*Side note:
The first trip was two years ago. Green as a greenhorn could be, and also on a whim, I decided to visit a week earlier before the rest of the family would fly out. This turns out, to be one of the more scary trips of my life. On my way to boarding the plane, I get singled out and get my carry on luggage inspected. You read that right. Thoughts race through my head about whether my bags have been left out of sight for a second or whether some stranger gave me some free items at the airport. But I don’t get inspected for illegal substances.
They’re inspecting my carry on luggage weight allowance! I spend the next fifteen minutes arguing with the completely idiotic staff, sifting through items and having to decide whether I can go on with 4 pairs of underwear instead of 6, and whether I needed that extra 6 ounces of bathroom essentials and a half eaten burrito or not. They let me off after shaving off a measly 3 pounds off my over the limit weight.
And I was still 3 pounds over the limit. Shortly after, I spent the next 16 hours clinging on for dear life, as the plane endures 10 of those hours in turbulent weather. The man next to me wasn’t happy. He kept throwing up. The old lady on the other side of me wasn’t happy either. She kept doing her rosary. The baby behind me wasn’t happy, I think I’ve lost 15% of my hearing. I wasn’t happy either. I tried to keep eating my dinner, and my drinks and food kept jumping out of their plates. What a messy ride.
