I’ve been in the Philippines for some time now back and forth in between my previous job as a musician in the orchestra on board various cruise ships. I knew my time was done on ships so I decided to leave before my insides blew and I turned into an angry monkey throwing bananas at the passengers. On the outside it could be considered a dream job. We worked for 2-4 hours per day, travelled around the globe and got paid to do so. The reality is slightly different for a guy with dromomania (the constant urge to travel) and it felt like a prison sentence to some extent. It all came down to a bunch of rules and regulations I don’t want to abide by, nothing to write home about.
With a sloth like wi-fi connection that I can only get reception on if seated on the floor in the corridor outside my windowless cabin, I found myself unable to write about my travels. The first reason is the sheer expense involved in an erratically slow process, the second is the complete lack of motivation - a trap every cruise ship employee falls into at some time. Well the good news for me is that I am now free as a bird set to roam around the Philippines for the next few months hopefully finding a way to stay in this beautiful paradise for good.
Holy week (or Easter as it’s known in the UK) does not involve bunny rabbits and chocolate eggs, but is more to do with escape or repentance – depending on your beliefs. With the Thursday Tribe (a few of the awesome people I’ve met whilst in the Philippines, named because we always meet at MCafe in Makati on a Thursday night for some seriously funky music) we headed off to Subic (approximately 2.5 hours north of Manila). Holy Week and New Year are the times when prices of accommodation shoot through the roof and the rush to find the best places that won’t break the bank starts several months in advance.
With under 4 hours of sleep in my system the alarm chirped up and spat out an alarm call that sounded more like a rabid chiwawa yapping selfishly in my ears. We were meeting Spidey (nicknamed because he looks uncannily like Toby Maguire) at one of the three Starbucks in the close proximity of our building slap dash in the middle of town. Our apartment 25F sits on the 24th floor of the superstitious building and stares out at the sprawling city that’s slumped next to Manila Bay. It was a rushed ear popping elevator ride that took us to the lobby of our building and the sleeping guard woke as we dragged out bags past the reception desk and out into the waking streets.
Of course Spidey ended up going the wrong way and when Ami phoned him he was round the arse end of the RCBC plaza walking away from us. It didn’t take long for him to correct his mistake and we were soon sitting in a taxi eating breakfast bought from ministop, a stones throw from our building. First to arrive in Olyvias place in Pasig and last to leave I walked out onto the street and tried to spot Ken’s red hatchback that was apparently visible to everyone else except myself. We rode in Anna’s car that had a built in CD player, but she had forgotten all her CD’s. It turned out later she had remembered her DVD player and a load of DVD’s, but they would be very good at providing musical accompaniment to our road trip.
One of the best things I have bought recently is the “iHome to go” a wonderful set of ipod speakers with a truly terrible name. The speakers enclose the ipod and provide it with a slight protection from the elements, perfect for the beach and pretty damn cool if you have a long car journey with no music. As well as listening to music, chatting shit is another option and the four of us in the car, Ami, Anna, Spidey and myself quite happily did both for the two hour journey to Olyvia’s family home in Pampanga.
Whilst on the road we had picked up Liz and her nine year old daughter Pikki - the last of our eight who would soon be sprawled out on the beach lapping up the sun. A short pit stop to stretch our legs was the first time I got to speak to the two of them this trip. I had only met Liz once before at a party a couple of weeks back and she had passed out before I had the chance to talk to her properly - this was the first time I had met her daughter.
A few minutes later we drove past a sight that made me feel ill. As I said before Easter is split into two groups over here – the escapists (us) and those who want to repent. A group of the latter were walking to the right of us down the main street swinging rope from one side to another hitting their backs with each stroke. I thought it was some sort of show as it was in a public place at 10am, but I shockingly realised it wasn’t red paint on their backs, but blood. I don’t know what was on the end of the rope, but it was doing a good job of taking a layer of skin off each participants backs.
At the front of the line was a man dragging a cross leading them towards forgiveness I guess? Apparently they would be crucifying people later in the day (hopefully taking them down before they died). This fanaticism is not something I have ever seen before here in the Philippines and quite honestly I never want to see it again and feel slightly sick writing about it because of the vivid images it conjures up. I am however a wimp with these things and have been known to pass out when having small amounts of blood taken from my arm, but Ami on the other hand told stories of how to catch and kill a chicken as she often had to do as a teen for her then parents chicken farming business.
Olyvias family welcomed us with open arms as the people of The Republic of The Philippines do as common practice and after a siesta we feasted on pancit canton and halo halo ice cream. At 11.30 we continued our drive one hour north and finally reached Subic Bay Freeport Zone, an old American Navy base that they were kicked out of in 1992. There’s lots of diving and jungle trekking around here, but we would only be doing one thing… a whole lotta nothing.
The sun was bearing down on us by the time we reached the beach so we sought shade at the far end. It had cost us 250 pesos to gain entrance (approx £3 / $5) and that helped keep the beach clean, and make sure we weren’t hassled by touts and beggars. This was not a time to be worrying about our stuff whilst we swam in the bath temperate water, it was not the time to be worrying about anything. This is where cares vanished with the breeze and memories to dream of are made. This is the way I want to live my life from now on. Not cooped up in a room staring at a sheet of music or a computer. I think people should concentrate more on being happy instead of chasing money, I definitely will…
TRAVELLERS JOURNAL - BORACAY - Music to travel to...
www.cdbaby.com/cd/travellersjournal
|
