Sunday April 28, 2013

Villa Toledo Hotel, Virac, Catanduanes

I got back to Virac perhaps a bit quicker than I would have liked. I was interested in staying in a couple of places an extra night – places like San Vicente. However, I was a bit worried about my luggage in Legazpi. I had been gone longer than I’d anticipated, and I was worried that they would throw it away or sell it or steal it. When I got back to Virac, one of the first things I did was send an email to the Mayon Backpackers Hostel. To my surprise I got an email back from them quite soon saying that I needn’t worry and that they were taking good care of my luggage. That was a relief because I’d left some valuable things behind with them.

I learned a lot of things on my ride around Catanduanes. It was the shakeout ride that I should have done in Taiwan. I was a real dummy not to have done that. But I simply didn’t understand how important it was. Still, at least I made it out of Taiwan. That was no small achievement. I could easily have stayed there for months, and the only way I could have stayed longer would have been to do a visa run. That would have cost money – on top of the rent I’d be paying. And I don’t think it would have been nearly as effective as really being overseas on a bike. One thing I’ve learned in my life is that there is no substitute for an actual experience. Simulations are not even close to the real thing.

One thing I (think) I learned on this ride around Catanduanes is that I want to keep my camera lenses. I often walked around these small barangays finding that my 50mm lens was a bit too wide for my liking and the 150mm lens was too telephoto. The 90mm lens would have been perfect. I also found myself wishing I had the macro lens – particularly when I stayed for a couple of days at Pururan. The beach offered all kinds of interesting macro subjects. It would also have been handy as a portrait lens because it focuses much closer than the 150. I wasn’t yearning after the super wide angle lens, but it probably would have come in very handy as well. So I am going to keep all three lenses with me. That makes me feel better since I spent a good chunk of money on them. It would have felt silly to ship them away and have them in storage.

In connection with this, I learned that I can carry more weight than expected. I removed all those items from my luggage to reduce the weight I was carrying, but I think I have a bit of wiggle room. I can take the lenses and one or two other things without a big problem.

I gained confidence about cycling on this trip. I made it up the steepest and roughest roads imagineable. I had to push the bike, granted, but I don’t think the load mattered. If my load was half as much, I still would not have been able to cycle up those roads.

I learned that I need to carry more filtered water. I need another water bottle at the very least. I learned that some items are essential – the mosquito net, the sleeping sheet, the water filter. Most important, perhaps, I learned how much better it feels to be out there in the countryside rather than sitting in a big city or even a town like Virac. So I’ve developed this interest and urge to try to be more independent and really do the camping thing. I can see advantages to it – financial and experiential.

When I got back to Virac, I suddenly got sick to my stomach. I didn’t have any stomach cramps, for which I was very grateful. I just had severe runs. I’ve been dealing with it in my usual way – by not eating. I haven’t been that hungry luckily. It’s only when I get a smell of barbecuing meat that I suddenly get overwhelmed with hunger. I have no idea why I got sick. It could have been food or water. It could also have been just a poor diet. I didn’t eat well when I got back to Virac. Too lazy. So one night I ate nothing but four huge buns for dinner. I also drank beer – two Red Horse – and that is a bad idea. And I ate a big bag of some kind of chips. Whatever caused it, I got sick. Wisely or not, I decided to delay my departure from Virac and I’ve just been hanging out. I figured that since I needed to do some Internet stuff, I might as well do it here in Virac where I can pay 350 pesos for a private room with bath instead of in Legazpi where I would have to pay 350 for a bed in a dorm. It took me a long time to download my journal and then clean it up and upload it to the blog. I also emailed it to everyone I knew. I also uploaded some pictures to Facebook. I had one bad moment when a virus at the Internet café wiped out the memory card from the Olympus. The son of the owner of the café fixed it for me though. He was a bit of a computer whiz and he was familiar with the virus that had caused the problem. I ended up getting all the pictures back. I also made a simple name card with my blog and email addresses on it. I printed it out on normal paper and then cut them up. They’re pretty cheap and dumb, but they at least would work. Many people on Catanduanes asked me for something like that. So the card might come in handy. I also didn’t mind hanging around in Virac because the Chael Sonnen/Jon Jones fight was on Saturday. I have a TV in my room that will have the fight. But once I made the decision to stay for it, I learned that the fight was being broadcast on Sunday the 28th. So I’ve ended up staying here longer than I wanted. But that’s okay. I was quite sick all these days and I’m glad I wasn’t on the road. I think I need to work on my diet and make it more varied. Not enough fruit for one thing.

And that’s about it. I haven’t moved since I got back. I haven’t been on my bike even once. And no photography either. Just reading and sleeping and watching TV and surfing the Internet. I just noticed, by the way, that my kickstand has already punched through the bottom of my brand new rubber foot. So that was a waste of money. The old one would have served just as well. I guess I should wrap this one up with tape as well to see that it doesn’t slide too far up the kickstand.

Monday April 29, 2013

3:40 p.m. Ferry between Virac and Tabaco

I’m stil not feeling well, but I decided to leave this morning. I protected myself by simply not having anything to eat. Then I won’t have stomach cramps or have to spend the entire ferry ride in some horrible bathroom.

Leaving from the hotel was fairly easy. I went to bed quite early and woke up early, so I had lots of time to hang out and go over my gear and pack. I wrapped some electrical tape around the kickstand leg to keep the rubber foot from sliding up. It is now essentially exactly the same as the rubber foot that I replaced. I guess they aren’t designed to be used with a full touring load. I also went over the bike a little bit and did some cleaning. Nothing major. I wiped it down and wiped down the chain and the sprockets and tried to remove as much dirt and dust as I could. Then I lubricated the chain. While packing, I realized that one of my good water bottles had a split in it! That makes sense since I bought this bottle before my trip to Ethiopia. I used it there and in Guinea and it was out in the sun much of that time. Considering their age, I guess I should have expected them to be quite fragile and brittle. That’s another thing I’ve learned lately – just how fragile plastic is. It has a relatively short life and becomes brittle and breaks soon. I’m wondering now what other items in my travel gear will soon break and need to be replaced. Anything made of plastic or maybe even rubber is probably at the end of its useful life. I’m learning that some items really just need to be replaced after a while. My tent, for example. And there is nothing you can do about that. You can’t have a water bottle for your entire life. They will wear out and have to be replaced. I will have to buy some new ones in Legazpi if possible.

I had hoped for some warmth and friendliness from the women at the front desk of the hotel in Virac as I left, but I got none. The simply let me go with barely a glance. Then I was riding through the streets of Virac and on my way to the harbor. I had heard the horn of the ferry when it arrived. It was scheduled to leave at 1 in the afternoon. I left the hotel at about 11:15 just to be safe. I hadn’t realized, though, just how crazy and busy it would be at the harbor as the boat was unloading. I had never made it down there when the boat arrived to witness it, so I didn’t know how busy it could get. There was a large traffic jam and I had a lot of trouble getting my bicycle through it. I finally made it to the front gate of the port, and I was told that the ticket office was not inside the terminal but back the way I had come and around the corner. That wasn’t welcome news, and I had to fight my way back through the crowds of vehicles and people and find this place. I really thought I was being led in the wrong direction, but I found a little ticket counter tucked away behind all the buses. I have no idea why it was there, almost hidden. I bought my ticket for 240 pesos ($6). That was in ordinary class.

I was glad to learn that once I had my ticket I was allowed to go through the gates and into the ferry terminal and the terminal building. I rolled my bicycle through and asked the guard if it was okay to park my bicycle out front. There was no x-ray machine or security procedure, so all the bags could stay on the bike and the whole thing could sit outside while I sat on a chair inside out of the sun. I could still see the bike from my seat, so it was relatively safe. All in all, it was much less difficult than taking the ferry from Tobaco.

Getting my bike on the boat was easier this time since I sort of knew the drill. I rolled my bike all the way to the back of the boat and a man showed me a spot in the side cargo areas. I lifted my bike up onto some wooden platforms and leaned it against the wall. Then I locked it in place and secured it with a bungee cord and a rope. I didn’t do the greatest job in the world, but it should be okay. Wisely or not, I decided not to cover my pannier bags with the rain covers. It seemed like a lot of trouble. I ended up wishing I had. My pannier bags are such tempting targets just sitting there on the bike. I was being trusting by leaving my bike there with all the bags attached, and it was perhaps too trusting. Once I got on the boat, I realized that there were a couple of dozen young men from Virac unloading hundreds of bags of rice from the ferry. The rice was in the same cargo area as my bike, so they would all have access to it. When I left the bike there, I was thinking that I sort of trusted the people on the ferry – the actual crew of th ferry. But it was foolish to trust all the dozens of casual laborers that scurried all over the ship like ants on an anthill. No one was watching them, and the temptation of my bicycle could easily be too much. While I stood up on the decks of the ferry and watched the men come and go, I half expected to see all my pannier bags tucked under their arms and disappearing into Virac. The alternative would be to remove all the pannier bags from the bike and carry them into the ferry with me. However, that would take two or three trips and then I’d be stuck having to watch all these bags on the ferry itself and I wouldn’t be free to wander around. On the decks of the ferry, there were signs everywhere telling passengers to watch their luggage and that, of course, the ferry company is not responsible for anything that gets stolen. My thinking was that my bike, being down in the cargo hold really was the ferry company’s responsibility. I had paid for it to be shipped as freight. So perhaps some professionalism on the part of everyone would keep my bike magically safe. Besides, I had taken everything of real value with me – my camera and other expensive items. Everything left on the bike was of extreme practical value, but not so attractive to a thief perhaps. What thief wants to steal a sleeping bag or a tent or a water filter? The water filter is valuable, but I doubt that anyone would recognize it as valuable or even know what it was.

I hoped I could get away without paying extra for the bike, but it was not to be. This was the same boat I had taken the first time and it had the same crew. The woman who told me about the bike fee before tracked me down again this time and directed me to the purser’s office. I still resented having to pay for the bike since in my mind it isn’t a bike in these situations. It is my luggage. Other people have suitcases with wheels. My suitcases just happen to have larger wheels and a seat. My sense is that the fee is for shipping a brand new bike as cargo. My bike is my luggage. People boarded with far more luggage than I had, and they weren’t charged extra. Still, I shouldn’t really complain. The policy is pretty clear and it only cost $5. It only seems like a lot when I consider that this essentially doubles my fare compared to other people.

I hadn’t had any breakfast at all and so it was hard to really enjoy the journey. Still, I’d much rather be hungry than suffer from the runs the entire four hours. I watched the loading of the trucks and then I enjoyed watching Virac and Catanduanes recede in the distance as the boat pulled away. I commented before that when I first saw Virac from the ferry, I had the feeling that I was arriving at the end of the world. The island seemed uninhabited other than the tiny patch of Virac that was visible from the boat. While cycling around the island, I realized how much of an illusion that was. The island is quite heavily populated. But from the boat once more, the illusion was restored and Virac behind me looked like a lost and lonely place on a long mountainous coast. I also got a second look at Twin Rocks Beach Resort. This time I knew what the reality was. The nice beaches on that coast retained their beauty, but I knew now what they were really like and they had lost some of their glamor. As much as I liked Catanduanes, I can’t say much for the beaches. They aren’t great swimming beaches. Even the beach resorts don’t have good swimming beaches.

I saw one other foreigner in the ferry terminal building. He was a big older man wearing shorts and a blue singlet. He made eye contact and we nodded at each other. He then spoke to me and asked if I was from the Netherlands. He thought I was Dutch because of my appearance and because I was cycling. I told him about myself and I learned that he had been living in the Philippines for thirty years. He had a very strong accent, and I had a lot of trouble understanding his English. I’m not sure I could ever get used to the Dutch accent. I’ve never liked it much. We chatted again on the boat, but I didn’t learn much about him except that he lived on the west coast of Luzon somewhere south of Baguio.

I also spoke to one of the young crew. He was an apprentice – like the ones I spoke to on the boat from Camiguin long ago. He had been an apprentice for one year – the entire time on this boat. He sleeps on the boat at night. He earns a stipend of 1,000 pesos per month as an apprentice.

There were two long nylon lines trailing from the boat. I had always thought these lines were for technical instruments measuring speed or wataer depth or something. But then I saw a man string out another line, and it was clearly for a large lure and hook. I asked the apprentice about this. He said that the lines were for fishing. One line was for the second engineer. One line was for the first mate. And the third line was for the captain. They got to keep whatever fish they caught.

Wednesday May 1, 2013

6:00 a.m. Mayon Backpackers Hostel, Legazpi

Well, I’m back in the Hostel in Legazpi. I’m not entirely happy to be here. I like some things about this place, but it never feels very warm and welcoming. I’m here because I left a bunch of stuff in storage before my trip to Catanduanes. When I landed in the Philippines, I came to the conclusion that I had too much stuff with me. I sorted through it all and removed some and left it behind in storage. I hoped to find out during my trip to Catanduanes whether I really could live without that stuff and then I’d deal with it when I returned. I’d either put it back into my luggage or dump it or ship it back to Canada.

I spent one night in Tabaco first. The ferry docked in Tobaco at about 5 o’clock in the afternoon, and there wasn’t enough time to ride my bike to Legazpi. It was great to see the Mayon volvano getting larger and larger as we approached the shore. It’s really an impressive sight. I watched the docking process and then the unloading of all the trucks. Once the trucks were off the ship, the passengers could leave. The trucks are loaded on so tightly that there really isn’t any room for people to move between them. I hadn’t thought about this before, but I imagine that is a big safety concern. If there were a fire or something like that, the passengers would not be able to get off the ship. The trucks essentially block all the exits.

Once the trucks were off, I made my way down to the cargo floor and got my bike. Everything was still there and the bike was still in good condition. A bunch of very large and heavy crates had been stacked around it, but none of the crates seemed to have hit it or done any damage. I unlocked my bike and untied it and rolled it off the ship. I had talked to a number of people aboard the ship, and I saw them all getting onto buses in the port area. They were all heading to Manila and beyond on night buses. I was very glad not to be among them. I simply rode my bike up the main street from the port and turned in at the driveway of the Maevin Inn, the same place I had stayed in last time. I got the exact same room again. At 450 pesos/night, it isn’t a great value, but it is in a convenient location, and I didn’t want to spend an hour wandering around Tabaco looking for a better place. Tobaco has a serious traffic problem. They tried to come to grips with it (as many cities in the Philippines seem to have done) by putting inlace a bunch of one-way streets. But this hasn’t helped. It just makes it nearly impossible to make your way around. It’s total chaos, made worse, in my opinion, by the complete lack of traffic lights. Without any traffic lights, the main streets dominate traffic flow, and there is never a break in that flow. The jeepneys just march on and on and on – a solid steel wall.

Once I settled in my room, I went out to find some dinner. I figured it was time to start eating again. I had a light meal at a small eatery and then rounded it off with a bunch of tiny bananas. I slept well and woke up early and was soon on the road.

The road from Tobaco to Legazpi came as a shock after the quiet of Catanduanes. I found the large amount of traffic very hard to deal with, particularly the dinosaur trucks and the buses. The buses are the true kings of the road here. They are huge and fast and powerful. The drivers feel their position, I think, and have become quite arrogant. They blast along at ridiculously high speeds blowing their horns at everyone to get out of their way. Having those buses and the trucks and then the tricycles and pedicabs all on the same narrow roads is a difficult and dangerous situation. In a way, however, it works to my advantage. I’ve noticed this many times in the past. Riding a bike in Canada can be much more difficult because there are so few bikes. All the traffic consists of cars and trucks and buses, so the lone cyclist is a real problem. There is no place for the cyclist on the streets. In a place like the Philippines, there are tons of slow-moving and awkward vehicles on the road and lots of pedicabs, so drivers are used to dealing with that. As a cyclist, I fit right in and I actually feel safer here than in Canada.

I found cycling to Legazpi to be tiring. There were a lot of long and hot climbs and I wasn’t feeling very strong. I stopped a lot in shady spots to wipe the sweat from my face and arms and to take a drink of water. The main problem was that there was construction on the main road and I had to follow a detour. Leaving Tobaco, you have to go up a very long and steep climb up a spur from the volcano. But once you get to the top, you don’t keep all that altitude you gained. The detour sends you right back down to sea level along the spur. You cross over the spur at the bottom and then you have to climb all the way back up again. It was slow going.

It wasn’t very far to Legazpi, however, and I got there long before noon and made my way to the hostel. I got the welcome I expected from the taciturn fellow at the front desk – no welcome at all. I had been looking forward to hanging out with some westerners at the hostel, but the place was nearly deserted. The only foreigner there was a young Russian fellow. We tried to chat a little bit, but I couldn’t understand him through his heavy accent. He was leaving anyway, and I was soon in the hostel by myself. Even though the hostel was completely empty, there was a lot of trouble in finding me a bed. I have no idea why that would be, but it added to my sense of not being welcome here. The grim clerk finally came up with a bed for me in a 4-peson dorm. I was the only person in the room last night, so I have no idea what all the trouble was about.

After settling in, I got my luggage out of storage and started to go through my gear to see what to keep and what to get rid of. It wasn’t an easy process. I’m kind of sick and tired of dealing with packing issues, to be honest. It will be nice to deal with this once and for all.

I also went to a bike shop to see if they had water bottles. It’s quite lucky that there is a bike shop so near this hostel. It is a very good bike shop, in fact. They have a lot of bikes and tons of parts. They could easily fix any problem and replace any worn-out parts. They had a few dusty water bottles kicking around and I sorted through them and came up with 2 that would serve. They aren’t nearly as good as the water bottles I have, but I have no choice. They’ll do the job.

I had a miserable night in the hostel for some reason despite having the room to myself. I couldn’t get to sleep and I kept sweating heavily. No idea why since there is an air conditioner in the room. I’m exhausted this morning and not really ready to face the day.

Friday May 3, 2013

9:00 a.m. Mayon Backackers Hostel, Legazpi, Philippines

Shipping a box back to Canada turned out to be a bit easier and a bit harder than I expected. Being a bit of a planner, I had already visited the post office and I found out what the rates were and that they had to inspect the contents of boxes before they are sealed. That knowledge saved me a lot of trouble and frustration.

The first thing I needed was a box, and I went over to a big general merchandise store in this neighborhood. It’s part of the JY empire – the same place where I stayed for a night or two in the hotel before I left for Catanduanes. I anticipated all kinds of trouble getting a box, but it was as easy as can be. The store even had set prices for their boxes. They put boxes in a big pile by the checkout desks and you can pick out the ones you want – 5 pesos for a smal box, 10 pesos for a large, etc. I picked out a box that seemed like it would be the correct size. I also purchased a roll of packing tape, some plain brown wrapping paper, and a big magic marker. I was all set.

I brought the box back to my room at the hostel and then seriously set about packing up the things I don’t need. Everything I decided to ship back to Canada fit inside the box perfectly. Then I strapped it to the back of my bike and rode down to the post office. The same woman I’d spoken to before was there, and she took a quick glance inside the box and asked if there were any liquids inside. I said there wasn’t, and everything was fine. Then I went over to a nearby table and started packing up.

I taped the box up and then I covered it up with the brown wrapping paper. That didn’t go so well. The paper turned out to be fairly thin and weak, and I was sweating so badly that the paper turned to mush wherever it touched my arms. I quickly learned to keep my arms elevated above the paper and not touch it. Even so, the paper was a bit of a mess when I was done, and I could see it easily tearing off. So when I applied the packing tape, I taped up the entire outside the box so that it was a solid square of plastic when I was done. Then I took out some cord and wrapped it up as well. The woman at the post office said that I didn’t need to do any of this, but I wanted the address on the box to be very visible. The magic marker turned out to be useless. It only cost 5 pesos, and I didn’t even get that much value out of it. The tip was so soft as to be useless and I couldn’t actually write with it. Hard to imagine how a company can get away with producing something as poor quality as that.

The postage on the box came to 2,261 pesos ($56). That’s more than I wanted to pay, but the value of the items in the box was far higher than that, so it will likely end up being worth it.

While cycling back to the hostel, I passed a couple of paint stores, and on impulse, I stopped at one to see if they carried denatured alcohol. If they did, I could use it as fuel in my Trangia stove. I was pleased to see that they did carry this and I bought a small bottle for 25 pesos. I bought a second small bottle at another paint store for 20 pesos. Then I picked up a small plastic bottle to use as a fuel bottle.

When I got back to the hostel, I set up my Trangia on the roof to test it out, and this denatured alcohol burned beautifully. I may not end up using it much in the Philippines, but it’s nice to have the option.

I passed the remainder of the afternoon sorting through my bike gear and trying to find better ways to organize it. I’ll complete that process today and then I should be on the road tomorrow morning to start the journey to Cebu City.

 

Tags: Alcohol, bike, Catanduanes Bike Trip, Philippines Bike Trip 2013, post office, Trangia, Virac