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!
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