Around The World – Boracay, Philippines
This leg of the trip typifies the yin and the yang of travelling, the pain of getting there and the joy of being there. This is going to be a long update, hold on. As you read, sing the song “Don’t Pay The Ferryman” by Chris de Burgh softly to yourself, you’ll understand.
My goal is to go south from Sabang to Boracay Island. Boracay is a tiny, tall and narrow island just off the northern tip of Visayas Island, just to my south-east. Boracay was voted the #2 island destination in the world by Travel & Leisure magazine and is renowned for its long White Beach, so it was an easy choice.
Getting there involved traversing my current island from the far north to the south-east to catch a ferry at Roxas, across to Caticlan on Visayas Island, then another quick bangka boat ride to Boracay. Hmmm, if only it were so easy.
Leaving Sabang, I took another jeepney ride to Puerto Galera, a quick motorbike trike ride to the bus stop, and then hopped into an aircon minivan for a pleasant 2-hour ride to Calapan. I sat next to an American who was living in the Philippines because it was cheap enough for him to live and pay for his medications after a significant stroke. I like Obamacare but don’t kid yourself, the insurance companies are still in charge and making a profit off you…
From Calapan, I jumped into another aircon minivan for the 3-hour ride to the pier in Roxas. Now this is where things get ugly.
Lonely Planet says there’s a ferry across to Caticlan at 2 PM in low season. There are four ferry companies, and all of the offices were closed when I arrived at 1 PM. This is when you get that sinking feeling in your stomach.
I walked further up and found a ticket office which was closed for lunch I assume, but with a lot of locals standing in line. When it was my turn, the ticket agent said “No ferry today.” He couldn’t explain to me what tickets he was selling to all of the other folks. I remembered Lonely Planet had a phone number for the pier office so I called. A very helpful woman said ferries leave at 9 PM, 10 PM, 11 PM and 12:30 AM. I’m not sure that having zero ferries during the day, then 4 within a tight window at night is the most optimal scheduling effort, but OK. I’m now in for an 8 hour wait, so I book a room at a small hotel near the pier for half-price with a fan, plugs for charging and yee-ha, a strong Wifi signal.
At 7:30 PM, I go out to a different, now-open ticket office buy my ticket for the 9 PM ferry. The man says “Schedule change next ferry 2 AM.” I pointed to a hand-lettered cardboard sign right next to his head showing the aforementioned times, he says “Schedule change.” Shaking my head, I buy a ticket for the 2 AM ferry and head back to my hotel.
At 1:30 AM, I walk out, through the pier “security” gate and into a waiting area, joining about a hundred locals. I feel OK seeing these people, they must know what’s going on and I’ll just join the herd.
Just to be sure, I walked over to an information desk and asked the girl if the 2 AM ferry was on time or late. I think she’s the same one I spoke with on the phone. She said “No 2 AM ferry, it left 1 AM, next one maybe 6 AM.” I just looked at her, feeling like my head was going to pop right off. I think she sensed my discomfort so she walked me outside and found a man from the ferry company. He assured me there was one going at 3 AM, so I waited with all the other people, ready to sprint to anything that floats and goes in the right general direction.
At 3:15 AM, they called for boarding so I’m off like a shot, into the passenger seating area on the upper deck. I spotted a row of 4 padded airline-like seats, put my suitcase and backpack down in the foot area and laid across the seats and pretended to be asleep so nobody would bother me. There were far more seats than passengers so I didn’t feel bad. We pulled away from the dock at 4 AM and I drifted into the sleep of the damned.
I woke as I felt the engines drop to idle, checking my clock we were 6 hours into a 4 hour crossing, just as I would have expected from these guys. I went to the railing to find we were kind of parked, second in line, about a mile from shore. We were clearly waiting for another ship to clear the dock before we could move in. About an hour later, we power up and pass the other ferry and make our way to the dock. I watched them throw out three lines which were secured to the large posts on the dock, figuring they would be winched in, pulling us in sideways. It took half an hour for us to move 10 feet and be secured to the pier. I’ve never seen anything so stupid in my life. All of the shouting, whistles, running around, moving back and forth, ropes in, ropes out. You’d think by now they would know how to do it. Now I understand why the ferries were stacked up waiting. I touched land again in Caticlan at 11:30 AM, 27.5 hours after I left Sabang.
I took a trike to the other pier for the short bangka boat ride to Boracay. When I got to the island a man came up and of course asked me where I was staying. When I told him where I had planned, he said his place was cheaper, only P600 for a fan room, private toilet, warm shower and closer to the beach, so I said I’d check it out. We jumped in a trike and the place is quite good, although the toilet filling doesn’t work right, I’ll have to fix that, and the shower water is just a trickle. Oh well, the bed is big and soft and the fan is good so it’s worth $13/night. I saw a group of electric trikes as we went through town so I will have to check them out tomorrow!
After a nap, I walked 30m or so to White Beach. It’s a gorgeous white sand beach with palm trees, light blue water, very strong onshore wind, rolling waves, the whole thing, and a tasteful path of sorts just off the beach with restaurants, bars and other shops. I could really stay here for a while, I told the man 3 days but I might stay longer. As I walked up the beach, the ominous monsoon black clouds finally let loose and I ran into an Italian restaurant and had an awesome white cheese, tomato and pesto pizza. This is monsoon season, which brings occasional torrents of rain and nearly continuous 50 km/h winds directly off the water onto the shops, so many of them have built bamboo frames with fabric or plastic to block the wind and rain. At night the place comes alive with live music, drinks on chairs in the sand, fire-twirling shows, etc.
The next morning, I put on bathers and a t-shirt and walked out to the beach. Did a run up to the top end and walked back down. Did a couple of swims, catching 2m waves. The beach is full of Chinese tourists taking selfies, everywhere! Also saw a lot of sandbagging going on in front of hotels and shops, I’m getting kind of an ominous feeling about what monsoon season really means…
Got a few minutes of sun peeking through the clouds so I laid down on the sand. Clouds came in again and the rain really started to come down. Everybody running, locals selling one-use rain ponchos. This is a good rain predictor – when you see the rain ponchos come out for sale, run for cover.
After a great Greek dinner, the rain really picked up again so I walked home in it, but the wind got crazy and I had to hide behind a coconut tree for about 2 minutes while it felt like hurricane-strength winds whipped through. It reminded me of when TV weathermen stand out in the storm and get blown over by the wind. The stinging pain from the rain was incredible! Now I know why they’ve installed all of the wind and rain barriers. Turns out we’re being hit by Tropical Cyclone Falcon…
The next morning, I walked east through some twisty pathways to Bulabong beach. It’s much shorter than White Beach and sheltered from the monsoon winds. I walked down as far south as I could go, ending up at a deserted gorgeous area with a few old anchored boats and shallow, flat calm warm water with some sea grass, tiny fish and hollows in the sand, going out about 100m. I wandered out and sat down in a hollow with the water just at my neck and relaxed. Enjoyed a brief period of sun. Weather reports say it will get better over the next few days.
I traversed back to the west and found an Indian restaurant. I was directed upstairs to a huge open area with tiny low tables and a few dozen huge sitting cushions. They offer yoga sessions in here in the mornings. I sat on a cushion near the front window looking out to the beach and had a great meal. I was the only person in the whole place and they said it was OK for me to stay so I read for a cushy, non-windy, non-rainy, non-sandy 3 hours.
Met some Filipinos on holiday, up from a town in the south called Davao. They invited me to visit their home so I’ll make that my last stop before heading off to Australia.
The next morning I hailed an electric trike to take me up to Puka Shell beach on the north side of the island. The driver told me there is a plan to eliminate all gasoline trikes on the island by 2016, only electric will be allowed! Yeah! I’ll spare you here all of the technical goodies on the trike, but will make a post about it in my Porsche 914 electric conversion blog.
I spent several hours on Puka beach, probably the most beautiful beach I’ve ever been on. I walked all the way down one way and back, large waves pounding up to the water-worn sedimentary rock and jungle at one end, and a 20m wide sand beach at the other end with even stronger waves. The biggest waves were about 3m high and came in fast so you get hit by one and the next one is right there. There were maybe 20 people on the whole beach, with a few vendors with tiny booths. I got a bamboo lounge chair under an umbrella and read my book.
Came back to the west side and had Indian food again with my new Filipino friends, then we walked down the beach and found a bar with the house special – a coconut filled with 12 liquors and fruit juices. I speak from experience – Do Not Drink This, You Will Regret It.
The next morning I dropped off some laundry and bought a new bathing suit, as it appeared that after years of faithful service, the pounding waves at Puka had ripped a hole open all the way down the left side. All of the stalls were selling the same cheap Chinese suits but I needed one ASAP so I just hope it lasts for the rest of the trip. The rest of the day was read-my-book-in-the-shade day, nursing the hangover. Weather was simply gorgeous.
My last morning on the island I plotted the trip to my next target of Siquijor, another tiny island, renowned for SCUBA diving. The journey of course involves buses and ferries with one overnight stay, I can only imagine how it will play out. I walked as far south as possible to a completely deserted area, played in the waves, read my book under some palm trees. Hit the Indian restaurant for the last time. Picked up my laundry and then had two massages at two different places with different styles, quite good for a grand total of $20.
I would strongly recommend that anyone visiting the region must come to this island. There are certainly easier ways to get here, don’t let that stand in your way. I was here at low season but there were still quite a few tourists, high season must be crazy expensive and packed so plan accordingly. If I could find a way to live here I might consider it. Quite isolated but my kind of beaches, amazing food and just enough infrastructure to support my needs. Maybe I could become an electric trike driver? I’d have to install a Tesla drivetrain though…
Tomorrow off to Siquijor.
