It's all about the disappointment.....

Usually my Blog titles have nothing to do with the actual drivel I write about, but this one does. I'm going to change it up a bit and take the majority of this section to talk about my beloved Shelbourne Football Club, who I left behind when I departed for South East Asia. You see for most people, all they have to leave behind is a career, a bunch of mates or in some cases, their wives. For me, I was leaving behind the thing I love most in this world (along with my mother goose and my papo, I'll get in trouble if don't add them in) 

It's not just about the typical "lads going to watch the football down the boozer in your replicas" with us. Oh no. supporting your local club, being apart of the highs and lows and actually being there to witness it makes you so much more involved.You share a connection with these other people who you may share no common interest with, apart from Shels, and you grow closer as mates than people you knew your whole life. It's a culture. It's waking up Friday morning and thinking "YES". It's waking up Saturday morning, itching for Friday to do it all over again. Home games in Tolka Park, meeting up with all the lads, some of whom you haven't seen since the week, sometimes two, previous, having a pint and strolling up t the floodlights and turnstiles,an undescribable buzz you feel. The carnage of away days, hiring a bus or getting the train, where applicable, with your mates Talking nonsense with quality tunes in the background and the comfort of a few cans. Last minute winners, cult heroes making last ditch tackles, beating Rovers. Amazing feelings nothing can top.

So, being away from all this, just as The Auld Reds had reached their pinnacle after 5 years of life in the nether regions of Irish football was incredibly hard to take, especially since no one understood what I was going through. Cup final place secured and on the brink of promotion to the Premier division. Bitter sweet isn't the word.

We arrived to Tagbilaran, booked in and set up camp in our minature sized room. It doesn't have grasshoppers or Flying foxes, so I'm content. What they do have however are giant rats running around in the roof directly above our heads. Nightmare. The noise being made, I was certain that these were coming through the roof. When I asked the staff about it, I was met with laughter and something in Tagalog. 

A cat is introduced to the mix, in the roof. Proper session going on up there now. I'm so thankful I don't have a hangover. I go out, a lot of food is purchased. An awful lot. 

Two 16 inch pizzas

Two dozen Dunkin' Donuts

6 cans of Coke (3 Diet for Mrs Magoo)

2 kebabs

Ferrero Roche

2 tubes of Sour Cream Pringles 

Suffering really badly for the next hour and to my horror I realize it's an "Alcohol free stay"

Shiza.

The Reds are playing Finn Harps to try secure promotion tonight, I'm not there. I will need beer for this.

I sneak back with a few tipples (Rum and coke) plug in the laptop and sit up to watch 11 heroes in Red hopefully get back to the big time. 

I wake B, 5 times, during the night. Once for each goal and the final whistle with my shouting. 

4-0 Shels' 

She ain't happy, I am so consumed with utter joy I don't even cop she's plotting my downfall once I stop jumping around. 

But who cares?? 

SHELBOURNE ARE BACK!!

When the were demoted back in 2007, it started a horrible downward spiral for me with one thing after another going wrong, personally and professionally. 

Knowing we had made the return back, it was as if all the demons following me, disappeared. I had woken from a 5 year nightmare. Life is good, life is great. 

The saying for years has always been "The Auld Reds - It's all about the disappointment"

While it was still true for me, the only reason I was disappointed, is because I wasn't there to see it.

This one's for the lads back home. 

Keep the flag Flyin'

1895.

FTA.

 

"AHHH sure there's Dave....."

So inbetween devouring Dunkin' Donuts and getting our bags checked by sniffer dogs (in the harbour, but never the airport, Only in the Philippines) we come to an agreement of cheating a little bit and booking a place in advance, well it would be 4 hours ahead of our expected arrival time. NUTS HUTS is the name and well it was as nutty as it was hutty. We have to jump a bus heading for Carmen and disembark somewhere in Loboc, those were the exact directions we recieved from the girl behind the help desk who was very similar to Minnie Mouse with the size of her eyelashes.

The bus, wasn't your normal bus. It had firm wooden seats, of course they weren't nailed down, how silly of you for asking! Baggage was flung everywhere, especially in the passage way, it was completley blocked. The funny thing was all I kept thinking was " My da would have heart failure if he seen this" Thankfully he never will as the Traders is far enough for my Auld lad to travel, hero. It should be known at this stage that the bus has no windows but instead slabs of wood to hold up to block the usual threats like rain, wind or poisonous creatures. There's also a chap waving to me trying to sell me nuts, hammocks and machetes. Damn I really want a hammock.

We're off on the death bus over-taking an 18-wheeler on a bad bend without breaking a sweat and following that up by doing three cars in one go. It looks reminiscent to the School bus from the Simpsons but it's travelling like the bus from "Speed" flying around.

We hit a bumb and B drops the wood (the makeshift window if you haven't been paying attention). Onto her arm. She screams. I laugh. Until I see how bad the injury is. Then, yeah, I laugh some more. Yiz wouldn't believe how many times similar things like this happened. Getting on from Mrs Magoo's antics, we jump off at this spot after being told by this lovely old woman where we were heading. She described it as a bit of a walk and she was right. We were heading right into the jungle folks, it's getting tasty.

We reach, no word of a lie, 1,000 uneven, loose steps down. After walking about 1k with these poxy rucksacks on our backs.

*I'm gonna backtrack a small bit and talk about my rucksack, it was purchased in Boracay for a cool 16 euros. However each time I packed up to move a zip, strap or plain material broke or ripped off and now I'm at the stage where I have to sellotape it together. It's well travelled.


Eventually we hit the recption desk, which is out in the open of this jungle area with my good friend the Flying fox and his mates are darting about. Another couple of hundred steps and we've reached our hut. Photographic evidence of this place is available and probably needed to get the detail of the place we were calling "home" for the next 2 nights. A wooden hut, with a lock that wouldn't be fit for a gym locker, let alone a door, which I've just noticed has a hole on top that you could fit through if you got a bunt up.

Interesting.

Inside we have a small fan, 2 single beds with a lamp for light. We have a hole in the ground for the dirty business and a bucket to wash ourselves with (the REAL buckets come into it soon)

I do remember sitting in my boxers having a beer, washing my clothes by hand in a bucket thinking "can't say anyone seen this happening"...

A few beers in the restaurant and some rubber pancakes are had while we view our surroundings. We're quite high up in the jungle the reception/restaurant area is very peaceful and people are flaked out reading books and meditating. It's a bit too hippy for me but I embrace it with the old "if ya can't beat em'"...

We get back to the hut and enroute yours truely meets his match. My mate the flying fox is back, he swoops down at me and in slow motion, proceeds to knock me off my feet and go crashing against an uprooted tree on the ground. It should be known I had a handful of water........and beer, and I was protecting it. So I've taken B's karma it would seem, delicious. Trying to sleep was a nightmare, we had a few visitors during the night, mainly grasshoppers, cockroaches and mossies. Despite having 2 single beds, we find ourselves squished together in my single bed as someone is afraid of things with more than 4 legs. My bleedin' ribs are killin' me.

Next day we head off for the day with our heads down (apparently we were too noisy with all the laughing we were doing from certain incidents that I have to remain tightlipped about for now) and people were staring with pure fury in their eyes. Meh, we do what we want.

We're off to the Chocolate Hills! As you know, this isn't your run of the mill travel blog, so I'm not giving any insight into it or history behind, if you really want to know;

http://www.google.com/  :)

They say it's all about the getting there (I don't know who "they" are actually, must get onto Google about it), and this again proved correct as we met two top gents by the name of Ding Dong and Dada. They both had motorbikes and for a ridiculously cheap fee we could hire them for the day to bring us to see the sights. I obtain Dada's services who is slightly less talkative than his colleague Ding Dong who can't seem to shut up. Dada can say "yes", "no" and "500pesos".

B takes time to be convinced to use the bikes saying her mam will kill her. I'm already on the back of the bike and she reluctantly follows behind. 15 minutes down the road my genius of a driver remembers his bike doesn't run on sunshine and we break down. No problem as we're on a hill, he rides downhill without starting it up towards a garage (a shack with fuel in Sprite bottles)

No idea of time but we get to Carmen next and the Chocolate Hills, a smashing sight. Should be a world wonder.

Look at the photos for more on that. I have always wanted to see the Tarsier monkey. I think why I've been so obsessed with them the last 3 years is because if I was an animal, I'd be that (not by choice, if it's by choice, I wanna be a white Rhino!) but by the just carefree attitude they have. They fit in the palm of your hand, and their eyes are as big as my mate Damo's head. We're doing it proper and going to a sanctuary to see them. They're amazing little fellas and got some crackin photos of them.

In the 6 or so hours we've become very fond of our newly acquired Philippino chums, so much so we tip them by a two whole euro each, well they're so happy with this they bring us back dirt tracking to our place of stay with the promise of collecting us the next day to bring us to Tagbilaran, our next stop. My helmet, by the way is a construction workers helmet and with the speed I had been travelling it had come away so all that was left was the inside rubber around my cranium. As most of you know, I have a head made of concrete so I would have been fine anyway.


The next day, we're picked up by the lads and brought to Tagbilaran, the port we arrived into, to get some normality back and decide what was happening next.


Next installment is about Superhuman rats, Superhuman stomachs and going sober..... for 20 minutes.


I hear it's sunny back home, so you're guaranteed 3 things;

1. Girls wearing sunglasses on top of their heads
2. Aul' wans complaining bout it being too hot/ Aul fella cuttin' the grass topless.
3. Lads drinking StoneHouse on the Orwell Green.

See yiz after!

"Follow me and I'll be right behind you"....

We've bordered a coach, bound for San Carlos, this should be fun. It wasn't. I slept for the 3 and a half hour journey. A change over meaning a ferry trip for an hour and a half to Toledo was next and I was planning on getting some z's for this too. We made friends with a family of Phillies as we tended to do more often than not. Given our late arrival time into Cebu City, the woman decided to ring ahead and find us a place to kip for the night.

The ferry was actually very nice but I think that's because despite buying the reject tickets that didn't stop us from heading up to "higher class" anyway. We do what we want. We slept on this too, as our body clocks were still rubber ducked but felt the better for it once we got off and awaited a scenic five hour + bus journey into Cebu City from Toledo, where we had just arrived into.

We're turfed off the bus around 8.30pm, on a busy motorway due to the fact the "hotel" is on the other side and the driver had taken a wrong turn. He wasn't feeling very James Bond-ish obviously like our previous taxi driving gent. The idea for crossing roads in the Philippines is very simple. Ignore everything you have learned as a child of safe cross code etiquette. You stick your head straight out, looking directly ahead and just walk, same steady pace and don't stop whatever you do.There's hundreds and what seems thousands of bikes, trikes jeepneys, cars, vans, 18 wheelers coming your way, but amazingly, they all swerve you. It's like a sick game as unless you're used to it, you'll need to bring clean shorts.

The less said about this gaff, the better. Beautiful looking on the outside and cheap but inside was hideous. Kind of like  my ex-girlfriends. I had never been so hungry in my life so we tried the restaurant hoping it would bring the place up in my estimation. After about 30 minutes of waiting, I'm so hungry I can't even drink the beer in front of me, I notice a sign that makes me want to top meself.


"Kareoke night"


 Shiza!!


Philippinos are usually fantastic singers, however, it's the choice of song that can be the downfall. Westlife, The Cranberries, Evanescence and Journey are all tributes to expect to hear on a regular night out. Now it's fine every now and then to hear this but every single time, I'm not joking. Having spent 5 weeks here the year previous on leave from the job, I remembered it all too well. B was having her fill off it too, as these guys were just not doing justice to songs she sings in her sleep (which she actually does for anyone wondering)

Now don't get me wrong, I like kids, I just don't think I should have me own just yet as I struggle to take care of myself at the best of times, but this kid gets up, about 12 or 13, the really annoying know-it-all type of kid, a bit chubby round the ankles doing the most ridiculous dance singing Justin Bieber.

Really? Really?? Justin Bieber?? Really????

I couldn't even finish my food. Maybe it was the long travel, the rubbish accommodation.... nah it was definitely the kid. We decided then that Cebu was going to be a stop over and sure if we were that desperate we could get it on the way back. We were here for the sights, following my makeshift plan would lead us to Bohol, a place I really wanted to give a decent butchers hook to. Chocolate Hills, Tarsier monkeys and all round fantastic sights n' beaches. So we decided, get up in the morning and flee, another ferry was waiting for us, oh joy!


Tomorrow is about jungle trekking, noisy neighbours and "Ding Dong and Dada"

I was going to deliver another Bernadette-ism but I've decided to flip it to show I'm not being a monster and that I too come out with this shit gold!

Billboard of a baby about a smoking ad above a building;

B: That baby is soooo photoshopped into that picture

Me: (trying to be smart) Yeah, so is the shadow...

B: If the baby is photoshopped into it.....

Me: *Head slap*

There's an awful amount of these gems.

Be good folks, cheers for reading my ramblings, if there was a God, you'd go to heaven.

"Put some clothes on Nicky!!!!"

To continue from where I've left off, John and Virgie had decided to give us a lift to a nice spot to rest our weary heads. They inform us the festival we are here to see was the week previous as they just make the day up each year. Bleedin' Philippinos!

Driving through Bacolod traffic (There's like one set of traffic lights in the 7,100 islands, so it can get messy) and having a grand old chat with two perfect strangers in the back of their car heading to a place that may not even exist.....

*BANG*

 No it's not a scene from Adam West's Batman, we've really been hit, by a fellow motorist, he's driving a tricycle. John gets out to review the damage. The little fella has plowed into the back of the jeep we're passengers in. But it's okay as his excuse washes with me.

"Sorry, but I have no brakes"

As cool as anything, real matter of fact, the best thing is that he has no money. He offers to fix the damage as he works as a mechanic. Yes guys, a mechanic driving round the company trike with no brakes.

ONLY IN THE PHILIPPINES!

After we sort out that business we finally reach the hotel and christ on a bike is it nice! 1,000 pesos a night works out at 16 euro, at the time, which is better than the 150 a night you'd probably/most likely pay in Dublin. John's mate Tony is staying there aswell. He's a bit eccentric but absolute top bloke. We pay a visit to their mansion which is so big they have to carry walkie-talkies so they know where each other are. If only Virgie used her one.

A trip to Mambucal,with the English is next , another poxy volcano. Before I go any further, yes I lost my new sunglasses up there and shouted out in anger as if it was the mountains fault. I also got bad sunburn. B is mad for her butterflies and luckily enough there was a butterfly farm there and there was a big unguarded pool of boiling water, from the heat from the volcano, next to this. Kids running everywhere. Health and safety how are ya?

It had been about 2 days so in my books that's 2 days, too long so we search out a tiny shack selling Red Horse (oh-ohhhhh) in the middle of this jungle. They're going down like water and I'm talking more nonsense than usual, all is right with the world. It's hard to put into words the banter between John and Tony, two fifty plus (or sixty minus?) men in shorts and flip flops talking about how much they dislike the Phillies, but continue to live there coz they couldn't be arsed moving home.Can't really comment too much more on the night as lack of memory is causing problems. Damn chicken.

Done other cool stuff, like went to Paanad stadium, home of Bacolod United Football Club, I'm a freak for football grounds. The local endangered species centre was taken in aswell, cats, monkies, flying foxes. The usual. Me and B took a stroll to the local shopping centre and got stuck into Dunkin' Donuts, which would become a pattern for us, every day. Really. My goal of having  McDonalds in every city I visit was going well, I was usually the runner after a hefty night out, the following morning for Mackers, Ferreo Roche and Sprite as B was usually incapacitated. Bacolod was a good spot, full of wild nut cases, mainly the reason I felt so at home. After this place we were heading for Cebu via San Carlos and Toledo. Bus, coach, ferry, coach. Whopper. Better than working of a rainy tuesday. A strip club may have been hit in the 4 days we stayed here, it also may not have.

Mind Fuck.


Tomorrow I'll talk about getting to Cebu, annoying kids and more Bernadette-isms.

It's Fucking on Now Chaps.....

FTA.

"Comfort Room?? It was more like the Chamber of Horrors..."

I loved the journey to Kalibo. A 14 seater mini bus with 16 people on it. About 3 hours or so it took. We had a beer while we sussed out the best mode of transport. We decided to be luxurious and take a coach. I notice a sign that reads "please wear your seat belt at all times" as I sit on a seat that isn't even nailed down properly and surprise surprise, has no seat belt.

We're enroute towards a little place called Illoillo, they spell it differently everywhere so I'm not gonna panic on the spelling of it. We're on the road possibly 10 hours so far and we arrive at roughly 9pm in the middle of nowhere. I spot a jeepney and I act on my initial thoughts of "ahhh sure why not?" and we jump onto this strange old army jeep with Bob Marley paraphanalia everywhere playing Lionel Richie and it's 8 pesos to travel. I'm immediately in love with it, regardless where he's going. B has the Lonley Planet guide out and has earmarked a possible location for us. It's 5 minutes away, grand.

25 minutes later we arrive (We're on Philippino time remember) and book in for a night, as this place is just a stop over. The place is reminiscent of an Austin Powers film, for those of you who don't know Austin Powers, you were obviously born in the 60's, so it looked like your room as a child. We read up on the place. We're told: Not the safest place in the world to wandering around if you don't know your way about.

Wandering aimlessly is my middle name so we take off into the middle of nowhere circa 10:30pm and find a chicken shop selling the infamous Red Horse. Cashback!

We're playing 2 person TAGAY! and I have to admit was one of the funniest nights I have ever had. From B's bad jokes, to me locking myself in the jacks (toilets for the international readers) filled with vomit, to be oggled by Phillies who couldn't believe the amount we were putting away and still laughing.

We were probably spiked. Yeah, definitely spiked. Or else the chicken done the damage.


We're booking in for another night the following morning as Robin (I'm Batman) is down with the first of her serious "tired and emotional" episodes of the trip. Damn Chicken.

Illoillo is a one trick town it seems so we're off to a place called Bacolod now, it's a bus and a ferry away, but we can do it all in 2 hours apparently. We hail a taxi to the bus terminus. On the way to it , we see our bus, heading the opposite way. Our driver thinks he's an extra in one of the "Bourne" films and spins around chasing him at full speed the wrong way down the road, beeping and trying to pull in front of him. Eventually, he's successful and the bus stops. I give him 100 pesos (1.75 in real money) and jump the bus to take us to the ferry. He just gets into his car, cool as fuck and drives off. Hero.

Ferry is your standard ferry, if you were a prisoner going to Alcatraz. Think about it for a minute....

 That's exactly what it was like.

We get off in Bacolod, and there's supposed to be a "thousand faces festival" on the day we arrive, it's the reason we're there, but can't see a thing, so we head for the local SM to review the situation. There we meet John and Virgie. 2 Heroes who helped us big time through our travels round Bacca. John's an Englishman who knows the Gallagher brothers and has married Virgie and lives there now. He offers to lift us to a nice place to stay. Better than Bacolod, I would be happy with anything seen as the last place I was chasing a cockroach around with 2 Lonley Planet guides "Shoooo-ing" it.

I don't want to rush the next bit so I'm going to leave it for tomorrows edition as it deserves the justice of it's own spot.

Instead I'll leave you with this gem;

B: You're going all the way where?
Me: Athens
B: Why are you going all the way to Italy?
Me: ehh, Athens is in Greece you know?
B: Yeah but Greece is in Italy......
*Thumbleweed..*
Me: *Headslap*



I'll see yiz when I get glasses!

"Lets make like a branch and get the fuck out of here!" - Shane O'Neill

Our time in Cavite was coming to an end, a mild start to our wander around South East Asia. Our next port of call was the lucious Borocay island. A 1 hour flight to Caticlan airport and a helicopter trip to the island was what was waiting for us, best birthday present ever from B.

I'm going to warn you here dudes and dudettes, it gets a bit messy from here on out and by messy I mean I won't be held responsible if you suffer from shock afer reading it, as I know you all know what a good boy I am. Ok, so here we go;


The plane itself was hilarious, I ran into a Philippino I knew from back home by chance and after a brief exchange of words, we were off to get our plane. Has anyone heard of the Wright brothers? That's right, the guys who built the first plane. That is what we were getting on. I thought it was hilarious, my partner in crime, didn't. The best part for me was when they started playing "guess what I have" games when the plane hit turbulence. A paper plane me and Moggy used to make in Biology class would have made it quicker and would have gotten us there safer.

Obviously, we arrive safe as houses and we probably hold the record for quickest time of exiting and re-entering an airport, as no sooner had we landed off the plane we were checking back in to fly to Borocay by chopper. I felt like a mix between John McClane and Jack Bauer. Whopper.

When we did arrive to the wonderful island, we were greeted by a sound chap who brought us to our 5 star hotel (don't worry it's not me sitting around ringing room service all day). You're in paradise, sun is shining, you've just avoided a typhoon by a day (apparently) what do you do? Bottle of red, exactly.

Cocktails and beers were consumed and a fire show was taken in. I sound my intention to take part in it but my claim is quashed quickly by B as she doesn't want me to get hurt "again" pah....

So the next morning after she gets over the fact she's broken her toe the night before and I stop laughing at her, we go for food. Me and hop-a-long meet this sound Philly named Ryan who brings us on this boat trip Island hopping. Now this blog is about the crazy shizzle that happens so I'm going to take a swerve on this because it went very "according to plan" for want of a better word.

It's my birthday!!! I dislike my birthday generally, but today I'm going to celebrate because Shels, my 1st love, my beloved dublin football club (in the 2 weeks I've left Irish soil) have remembered how to win, and despite being 1st division fodder to most people, are in the cup final!!!!!

BOLLOCKS, I'm going to miss it!!!!!!!!!!!


Fook it, I hate my birthday.

Drinking away the pain of missing this in a bar and after a fair few bottles and shots of muck, we realise the tide has come in and if we don't leave soon we'll be swimming home. As we're wading back both of us get into some sort of an argument, about pythagoris' theorum I do believe and we go back to the hotel. So I wake up outside the hotel by the cleaners asking me if I want a glass of water. I must say, it's a lot more enjoyable waking up outside a 5 star hotel of a tuesday with the sun shining, than of a wet, bitter sunday on the Orwell roundabout in Dublin's fine suburb of Templeogue.

B has a 2nd broken toe, I have hideous sunburn that makes me look like that time I almost OD'd on Vodka in Bratislava with my Shelbourne mates, and the hangovers have started to catch me, is this what it feels like to be 25???

Borocay is a lovely spot, 4km beach of nothing but hotels, bars 'n restaurants. Perfect for hooneymoon, family getaway or two 25 year olds who are so drunk they don't know their arse from their elbow. Infairness, we did lots of nice things, but lets be honest, yiz don't wanna know about them.

We start planning our next visiting point with the hope of breaking less bones, drinking less alcohol and actually making it to the beds we paid for.

Yeah I didn't expect you to believe that, deep down we didn't either.

To a place called Kalibo next, with a journey down south to Iloilo next. Transport, accomodation and a plan of what to do when we're there is an after thought with us as we go for a final cocktail before heading off on our motorboat, into the tropical thunderstorms rather than sunset.


*Shels are playing Shamrock Rovers tonight (Who I'm not the fondest of and love beating so here's to a Reds victory.)

Sorry for going off topic, next installment is about illicit drinking on illicit streets, 60's curtains and going on a bender with English gents in a jungle.



FTA.

"If we stay really quiet, we can actually hear the Philippinos "

For most blokes, a trip to the local supermarket is a boring/fair/middlin' experience. We arrived to the SM, a Philippine franchise of giant Shopping "Malls" *shudder*. To cut a long story short, our car has been stopped at the entrance and a gang load of uniformed boys in blue are standing around us with shotguns, pistols and suprisingly mirrors on the end of poles, which kinda scared me the most! So turns out that they had recieved a bomb threat and were going for the people they suspected (Cheers lads). Obviously we didn't have our C4 on us that day so we got away with it.

To get over the harrowing experience, we decided to go for a drink, any excuse an all that, in the local wooden shack they call a "bar" *shudder*
No offers for 3somes here but there is girls walking round in next to nothing, when I enquire what sort of a place it was I'm told (in broken English) that it's a regular watering hole and that this is a regular occurance. Result.

I must have been spiked because there's girls up dancing on poles and they are very very good. There's an old saying by some no mark person that "Monkey see monkey do" and that was quite apt for me as in the time it has taken you to read the last sentence I was up Pole dancing with the pros, and doing a mighty job of it too might I add. The one positive I will take from that night was our breakout singing performances. B was Adele, I was Liam Gallagher, we were dressed ridiculously, standard (for you Bekka). There's video evidence of this somewhere, I'm just not sure if the general public are ready for it, just yet.

Hangovers never really kicked in during my stay in Cavite. I blame that on not drinking enough. It was decided that after the 1st 6 days of drinking, eating and drinking that we'd probably have to do some touristy stuff. We decided to visit the great Tagaytay, home of 2 active volcanoes. The place had been wiped out 20 years before and was due an expulsion of fluid soon. So of course yours truely has to make this his priority. 33 degree heat, no idea where we're going, dangerous creatures, no sun cream, one bottle of water between two of us. Smashin' idea. By the time I reached the top I was dressed head to toe as a Ninja with 2 shirts wrapped round my face with a pair of sun glasses on, again there are photos around somewhere. Speaking personally I think I looked pretty damn hot. We got to the top and recharged the batteries, trying to speak with the locals but failing miserably. The view itself was pretty amazing, different coloured water changing every few seconds from the heat and a load of geyzers or hot springs (so there's no confusion with Geezers, 40 + year old English men drinking watered down larger, having it "large" *shudder*) We made it back in one piece albeit fried an wrinkly, it was a top day out. There was the usual being followed by guys trying to bring us home and kids trying to sell us Buko pies, nuts and sunglasses, which is when I realised I'd left my sunglasses on that poxy mountain.

A little spoiler, most of the next entries will include me losing sunglasses and excerting anger towards "poxy mountains"


After that little adventure, our next point of rest was Boracay Island. White sand, blue seas, Coconuts, cocktails, paradise basically, right?

Wrong.

I'll keep yiz guessing 'til tomorrow, take her handy folks.

The early Worm catches the bird.....

For those of you who haven't visited the wonderful islands of The Phillies, I'll try my best to describe it for you in as little rambling as possible and without being too general.

They're all crazy.

Our first day there and me and B are travelling round in a tricycle. Now in my day, a tricycle was a childs toy vehicle, however, not here. The mode of transport we find ourselves in is a 1980's Honda bike with a side car stuck to the side with sellotape and Hubba Bubba. They have a saying there "only in the Philippines" and I found myself saying it quite a bit, especially over B's screaming.

We had a Philly style house party in Bacoor in Cavite with a heroic family, absolute nutters. They made us a cake and had banners 'n that to welcome us. The Red Horse came out next. I swear as a seasoned drinker( which I'm sure a fair few of you will back me up on) I have never seen anything like this juice. They claim it's 6.9% but I've heard stories they just bottle it at that because otherwise it has to be imported as wine. Either way, this cowboy will drink slop from a dirty welly, so it's going down swimmingly in a game of TAGAY!! (Cheers in Tagalog, the local dialect) Basically you shout it out and you drink, best drinking game, ever!

There's a fair bit of slagging going on between myself and herself, mostly about my stupid looking whiskers I'm spouting and the fact she looks like Mufasa because her hair has poofed out, although I personally thought she looked a bit Side-show Bob-esque.

We hit this bar for some shits and giggles and we order a tower of San Miguel and get chatting to the bar staff. One beauty is chatting away to us and when she goes to get us our next drink, I partake in a conversation that I never thought I'd be having with my friend. Here it goes;

B: Ehhh, she is mad for you
Me: I actually think she's on the other side of the pitch, she's staring at you licking her lips
B: No, definitely you
Me: Let's keep this going and see how it ends up..

Turns out we were both right.

Needless to say, we're heading out the door, but not before I sneakily exchange phone numbers with her when B isn't looking!! My first offer for a 3some and I'm only 3 days into it. Result.


The next installment is going to be about dressing up as Ninjas going up an active volcano, my first attempt at pole dancing and being searched for bombs (can I say that word out loud?) in the shopping centre.


 Til' next time, becareful and if you can't becareful, buy a pram. Peace.

Ahh, they have the internet on computers now....

So, it's the 2nd of October 2011. Flights and visa are sorted and I'm just about putting the finishing touches on my 8 kilos of luggage that I'll be living out of for the forseeable future.

The Philippines is our first destination, arriving in Manila before almost straight away heading to Cavite to stay for a few days (it's basically the Wicklow of Ireland, in that it's situated 15 minutes outside the capital,has skinny cattle and a Catholic church) but not before airport pints, the only way to properly start an adventure.

After me and Bella (not her real name but I decided on an alias, rather than B Cunningham or Bernadette C) had sunk a few pints, we grabbed the staff seats on the very snazzy Etihad flights at 8pm. Given what I have been living in the past 6 months, I should have really enjoyed it more. The mint toothpicks whilst watching the Big Bang Theory was the highlight of the flight.

A 3 hour stop over in Abu Dhabi was met by more pints, just to help us sleep for the next flight. A word of advice, don't take two 7.5 mg of Zimovane to help you sleep after pints and cans, 3 hours before you land. Although to be fair, it kicked things off in style.

After landing in lil 'ol Manila at 1am on the 4th of Oct, greeted by the hoardes of minature Philippinos running around in circles like one of them scenes out of the many Pixar films about insects, our luggage is retrieved and we meet our roomies who we're staying with. They're relatives of Philly friends I have in Dublin. they have a car and an Oasis CD. I may have been travelling for 2 hours but there's a talk of getting some beer so this pleases me.

Probably the quietest night of my whole 6 months travelling, it gets better so tell your friends and click to follow.... go on....