The island of Bohol is our first Philippine experience. It was clear we weren't in Thailand anymore because instead of temples, monks and chanting, we had crosses, churches and bells. I cant lie, the catholicism is intense here-a little too much, but it was nice to see something more similar to home. We walk around to find a cheap place to sleep and then find cheap philippino food. One reason I love traveling with Erin is that her love of food is equal to mine causing us to eat a lot, talk about eating and always plan out the next meal. Erin had done research about the local foods and was on a mission to eat as much of it as she could. I joined in, but minimally as most food here has meat in it. Needless to say I was a good cheerleader and picture taker for when Erin found something wild to eat. We discovered canteens consisting of huge vats of food made in the morning and put out for you to choose what you want. We had heard that food in the Philippines was nothing special, but we thoroughly enjoyed the many canteen meals we ate here. We quickly realized that bakery's were also a big thing and we always seemed to find ourselves near one. We felt it necessary to buy 4 different Philippino baked goods each day to share. I know, it was a pretty brilliant idea! We ate this one thing that was made on the street: a pancake type thing, warm with melted cheese and sugar folded like a crepe. AMAZING! We also went to a little off the beaten path beach and hung out with the local kids and a tattoo artist who gave us some home-made coconut rum. AMAZING!
It was quite hard to see the poverty, as in any city. There were small children begging for food. When I was in Cambodia, a young girl ripped a piece of corn out of my hand as I walked by her and then ran off. Nobody did that in Bohol, but they were not afraid to tug on your shirt. We had been warned about getting robbed and stuff and so I was afraid to give. It's sad that I felt that way because it was really hard to walk away from them. Sorry for the downer moment.....
With all the eating we do, exercise is necessary. So when we looked at a map and realized the beautiful white sand beaches of Panglao Island were only 12 km from the city we were staying in, we figured we would get a good walk in and then relax all day on the beach. We were told by the awesome staff guy, Vince, at our hostel that it was too far to walk but we blew it off. We were used to Thai people who thought you were crazy to walk down the block, so we took Vince's warning as a Thai level warning of not threatening at all. What we really wanted was to rent bikes, but they were IMPOSSIBLE to find. Everybody told us to rent motorbikes, but we don't know how to drive one. So walking it was and 2 hours later and about 15 pounds of water weight shed from sweating in the blistering heat, Erin and I realized Vince was right. Somebody stopped to help us and said we still had 19 km to go. We feared we would never dip our toes in the gorgeous water if someone didn't drive us there. We knew there were jeepneys but the locals were saying we would have to wait long and we didn't want to pay obscene amounts of money for a motorcycle ride. As a crowd of locals gathered to discuss our options, a jeepney comes on by!!! We jumped right in thanking the locals for their help. This was by far the best jeepney ride I've experienced. That sucker was packed to the max, Erin was sitting on an inch wide bench somewhere in the middle and I had half a butt cheek on the seat bench, yet we kept on pickin people up. Public transport here has a driver and a regulator, meaning a guy who collects the money, bangs a coin on the roof to tell the driver to stop, directs traffic and coordinates "seating" inside the jeepney. They tend to be older bad ass men. This regulator was no exception and I appreciated his skills to pack us all in like sardines sitting on top of each other. An hour later, yes, an hour later in a vehicle, we get to the beach. It took a while, but we got there in true Philippino style and still enjoyed an afternoon at the beach....win-win.
The next day we go to the chocolate hills, what Bohol is most known for. It's basically a large hilly region that is brown in the dry season and look like chocolate kisses, hence the name the chocolate hills. There is a legendary story that the hills were created when a large giant in the mountains lost his greatest love and the tears he cried for her formed the hills. Pretty romantic. As nice as the hills were, the most interesting part was the 2 hour bus ride there. You know, they say "it's not the destination that counts, it's the journey" and I can't think of anything more true than that. So, we get in the bus and the drive through the mountains is breathtaking. It's open air bus so there's a roof, but no windows, so you can see everything. It's a little scary going around those tight bends, but really worth it. The bus eventually begins to fill up and the " regulator" is really working. He's in, out, up climbing on the roof, down, banging the coin and shoving people in. At one point, the bus gets so full that nobody else can get on. Since this is impossible to allow, the "regulator" takes necessary action. Him and i make eye contact at this point and he laughs in anticipation of what he's about to do. He traverses the outside of the bus, like a monkey I swear, and then gets to my window and crawls 3/4 of his body inside. He crosses over me and Erin to physically make the passengers one to fit in tighter. It worked brilliantly as he got those passengers in. People practically cheered as Erin and I got off, and I'm pretty sure it was because we freed up 2 seats!
It was our last night in Bohol, so we decided to hit the local philippino club and get busy on the dance floor. We drank too much cheap philippino rum and hit the town.....but the 4ft tall bouncer wouldn't let us in because we were wearing flip flops. All these people are talking to the bouncer on our behalf trying to convince him to let us in but he was not budging. So, this adorable gay couple tells us they are staying in that building and we could borrow a pair of their shoes just to get in....fabulous solution. We go upstairs and are given very large and loud red and purple loafers. So, we put them on (these are the times I wish I had a camera with me), looking like atrocious clowns, way worse than in the flops, and we get in! We put our flops back on immediately and eventually give the cuties their shoes back. We are practically attacked when we enter the club as everybody wanted to dance with the Americans. I had a young man tell me he loved me, which is apparently common here.....moving quick is an understatement!! It was a fabulous evening as it always is when Erin and I go out. Problem was that we got an hour of sleep, overslept and crazily rushed to catch our boat to the next island in the knick of time. We were off to siqijour (pronounced sigi-whore....best name ever), the mystical island of witches for Holy Week. We expected nothing less than interesting :)
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