On the surface, Visayan neighbour Bohol is considerably more developed than the wee witchy Siquijor. It's got hotel chains and sealed roads and business districts and all that crap, but none of it seems to matter when a guide sits looking us in the eyes, soberly explaining that her “sister has a third eye, and is quite known for it... she sees dwarves.”
G, our guide on Bohol, is lovely, knowledgeable and seemingly utterly mad. As we make our way to the ferry terminal to leave her island for Cebu, the capital of the Visayas, she regales us with an hour of stories that would come across quite spooky if we were children, or quite disabled. But we're not, so they're just a bit daft.
“We went to see a faith healer once,” she continues. “She gave us the same bubble treatment [as Wee Mo] and when the water turned cloudy, she tipped out the glass. I couldn't believe it! On the ground there were bits of old newspaper. We were all amazed! We started trying to put it together to see if there was a message.”
There was, of course, all though G evidently didn't get it: “You're a fucking tumshie.”
Unsurprisingly, G is also a staunch Catholic, very proud of the fact she has two bishops in the family. As I'm a total coward, I don't bother to point out that perhaps that's not something to be too proud of these days either.
It's all a weird end to our time on Bohol which for the preceding two days had been – by Filipino standards – quite normal. We may have been staying an Oriental version of Butlins, but Bohol is much more aware of its charms than the likes of Negros and Siquijor. That means better organisation, or course, but also lots more tourists, most of whom are contemptible spastics.
Still, the demonic tarsiers are pretty terrifying.
And Bohol's USP, the Chocolate Hills are worth the hour drive from Tagbilaran, the island's biggest town.
It's totally possible to see spinner dolphins here as well – and if you're the sort who craves comfort over solitude then perhaps Bohol would be the place for you.
Besides, next to bustling Cebu, it's a quaint village. The lanky king of the Visayas, Cebu was the first place the Europeans landed when the islands were rediscovered in the 16th century. As such, today it's comfortably the worst place this side of Manila to spend your time.
It's hard to imagine how this place would have looked when Magellan stepped ashore with his troops all those years ago, but today Cebu City has all the drawbacks of a major conurbation, without much character as compensation.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Acting on behalf of the Spanish, the Portuguese Magellan led troops ashore here and immediately cut down a tree, made a cross and planted it in the ground. He was baptising the natives with a week.
All was going well for the god squad until they ventured over to the neighbouring island of Mactan. Here Magellan again tried to introduce the natives European culture and religion; in return the warrior king Lapu Lapu introduced him to the business end of a sword.
The Europeans were hopelessly outnumbered and duly routed, with only one ship managing to escape. Thus began 40 years of freedom and relative peace for the Philippines. However, the Spanish were much better prepared when they returned to Christen the islands in the name of King Philip. It would be almost 400 years until the Filipinos would be free again to start buggering everything up for themselves.
All quite interesting to hear when walking around the city, but not quite enough to distract from the reality that this modern battlefield is grey, boring and inferior to all of its neighbours. Cebuanos would strongly disagree – after all the Visayas speak their language – and you could argue that every region needs its industrial powerhouse and international airport for employment and imports and exports etc and so on. Still, my conclusion was reached before we'd even checked into our hotel: pish.
An hour's flight away on Palawan and it's impossible to reach the same verdict. Almost detached from the rest of the country, Palawan is a great slash of green in the middle of the South China Sea.
And I mean green in every sense. It's capital Puerto Princesa is said to be the cleanest city in the entire country and every hotel has long declarations of their eco-dedication cluttering up the lobby. Only Puerto Princesa is served by a power station, in fact, while the rest of the island relies on generators. Big business is kept out too, making the island less dependent on imports.
Mostly, though, the punters come to the island for the beaches and scenery up at El Nido, or the underground river in Sabang. We didn't have time to look at the former, but were swept off to the latter. Before that, though, we were taken on a mangrove tour which was altogether a bit weird and very, very dark.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Stranger still, we were told the tale of the tamilok which is a delicacy on Palawan and precisely nowhere else on earth. The story goes that during WWII two American POWs escaped their Japanese captors and were stumbling through the jungle, slowly starving to death. As they trudged on, one accidentally stepped on a wet branch, which broke and revealed a disgusting white wood worm. “Tammy!” Shouted one soldier to the other, “Look!”
Thus tamilok was discovered – even the native tribes didn't know about its existence until then. Now it's regarded as a delicacy by many, and an aphrodisiac by some. By me, it is regarded as an abomination that tastes initially like an oyster, but very quickly like a cork that's been bobbing around in an ocean of piss for six months.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Not far from the mangroves lies the entrance to the underground river, which the Philippines sincerely hope will soon be regarded as the world's foremost natural wonder. We were taken there by a stern-looking native, with the boundless stamina who led us over a mountain via the Monkey Trail. The trek was sweaty and breathless, but quite unforgettable as well.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
In fact, the hike almost overshadowed the river itself. Although it is a special experience, floating around in the dark, further and further into the bowels of a mountain, I couldn't help but be underwhelmed by it all. For a start, Sabang's is not even the best cave we've been to on this trip; secondly, the guides talk too much and insist that certain shapes in the rock represent either religious icons (all Catholic) or animals that I would only be able to see with the help of a colossal amount of psychotropic drugs.
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| Photo: Wee Mo |
Unfortunately, the rest of our time on Palawan was somewhat blighted by inclement weather, meaning we lost any chance we had of seeing whale sharks (I may well not have left if we had). Instead, we were taken to an open prison where we were told the prisoners were some truly admirable sonsabitches. Moments later, a couple of them had me up the back of a shop, trying to punt contraband in the form of maximum security prison wear. It's not the first time I've heard of a revolutionary penatentiary going south.
The changing weather meant our island hopping experience changed into something more bleak – almost British – as well.
The changing weather meant our island hopping experience changed into something more bleak – almost British – as well.
So, in the end we were given dozens of reasons not to like the Philippines. We met some pretty dreadful people who indulged in the kind morally bankrupt behaviour of which most people would be ashamed/proud. Alas I can't go into details for fear of costing already quite desperate people their livelihoods.
Also, the scran across the country is shit; there are too many guns; it has absolutely flabbergasting levels of corruption; and Manila is comfortably one of the most sinister, ugly places we've ever been.
In spite of all that though – and much more – we love the Philippines. We'd buy property there, we'd live there, and we can't wait to go back.
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