From our guest blogger, Maureen...
Lift off from the Caldwell home was slated for 8 AM Boxing Day and we achieved the unachievable – under a fair bit of duress! Not only is Canada crawling with people with the stomach flu but so is Hong Kong. And, Tess had fallen ill during the night after a wonderful Christmas dinner. I will only say she was a total trooper and soldiered on through cab rides, airplane rides, jeepney rides, etc. etc. – all the while dealing with “you know what”. Enough said. Brilliantly, Tess and Charles had arranged for two taxis to pick us up at 8 AM from the flat and they drove us to the airport: much cheaper than cabs to the downtown check-in and then using the Airport Express to the airport. Carys was having a very difficult time for two reasons: one, she was so concerned about Tess and secondly, she does not like planes and knew we would “cwash”. Carys was shrinking more and more into the woodwork as our flight was called and was saying, “I am not weady, I am not weady.” I assured her I was ready and would handle it for both of us. (Above: the view from our final destinaton when we awoke the next morning.)
Carys bravely got on the flight and once we were underway Carys was back to her usual non-stop chattering and having wonderful imaginative thoughts about what was going on in the clouds beneath us. We left on time with Tess stretched across a row to herself: praise God for that small mercy as the entire plane was full. The boys sat with Blake. Charles also had the only other empty row to himself. He monitored all of us, handed out turkey or peanut butter or nutella sandwiches that Mo had made the night before, or filled out six forms for his family prior to entering the Philippines.
Upon arrival in Manila (oh, the blessed hot air that hit us) the party began. Originally, we were going to take public transport from Manila to Batangas City (at least two hours of travel) ….. but wiser heads prevailed as we had the sick and frail with us : ) A driver and van were waiting for us and we scrambled in for a pretty decent drive down the highway to points south. Actually, now the party really began – we arrived at the exceedingly grungy Batangas City Port Authority to be told that all ferries were cancelled due to the typhoon warning and if the truth be told the weather was looking pretty jolly bleak out – dark clouds everywhere. So, now a hotel was needed and no, NO one in authority knew when the next ferries might sail again. From the look of Batangas City, I truly wondered what we could find by way of accommodation. But, before beginning the hunt for accommodation we stopped at a even grungier market next to the Port Authority building where Charles marched in …… and came out victorious with the words, “Everyone out; I have found a boat which will take us to Puerto Galera”. Tess wanted to know how much, but Charles wouldn’t tell.
We dutifully climbed out (rain and wind picking up) and waited for a local jeepney to take us to “the boat”. The driver pulled up and helped get our luggage into the centre of the jeepney with seating on either side of the luggage. All eight of us scrambled in and I was thinking how grateful I was that there was room for all of us ….. then 8 more people squeezed in with us and another two up with the driver. The ride to the boat was a true experience, sponsored by the local chiropractors of Batangas City. But even more profound than the bumping and spine tingling twists and turns was the pure raw smell of gas emanating from the grunting Jeepney engine. Ai ya! Jasper dealt with it by cuddling into Grandad’s arm and soon his head lolled onto Blake’s arm and he fell sound asleep. Watching his head bounce on the end of his neck was a little unnerving. The ride literally took forever and I was sure we were driving to Puerto Galera Iimpossible because it is an island) but finally, finally we arrived at the most interesting “dock” on a beach.
Pretty appalling would be an accurate assessment as garbage was everywhere, goats were bleating and wandering around as they grazed and nosed among the mess. Remarkably, we were charged a "dock entrance fee" of 50 pesos each. Charles didn't hesitate to hand over 400 pesos, which was surely and purely a graft based fee. Meanwhile, on the beach boats were in varying states of repair, disrepair or being built. Thankfully, there was a large catamaran in the ocean waiting for us – and there were about 15 more “gweilos” who were waiting to board the boat as well. As we dragged our luggage over the grotty sand the catamaran staff/crew (if you could call them that) chattered amongst themselves and with the "head" guy …… and pulled up the gangway and without a how-do-you-do reversed engines and departed the scene!
Rumblings among the passengers started quietly and gradually gained in strength. The fellow in charge was now giving back money to the first bunch of travelers and some were concerned that prices were now going to go up, etc. etc. One of the foreigners, who had been waiting for an hour to get on the boat, tried to mount a palace revolt by getting as many passengers as possible to agree to a lower, fixed fee or everyone refuse to board the boat. Charles, suspecting the boat people would shrug and drive off, wanted no part of it and walked away from the crowd. Tess had concocted a huge figure in her head of how much Charles paid for the eight of us. However, privately in the jeepney Charles explained to Tess he’d negotiated an incredibly cheap price (almost half what the others were paying). He didn’t want to jeopardise the ride and kept his distance from the potential coup.
Fortunately, another larger craft swung into view, pulled up, negotiations were loud and animated between the fellow in charge and passengers and somehow we all were allowed on board, in spite of one more lively visit on the boat after we were all on board, from “fellow in charge” who accused a few of the passengers – including myself (although with only a quizzical look at me – no words) for not yet paying. Suddenly, with no more money changing hands the columns tallied and we were allowed to take off.
I must explain here that the only reason we were taking a private boat when public transport was cancelled is that Charles was not worried with the state of the ocean’s waves. He is an experienced sailor and on his say-so off we went. The ride was 1 ½ hours and not difficult although at times we would have one of those moments where you and the boat are suspended high in the air ……. and then come crashing down as the wave moves past. As good a sailor as Charles is, I must say he was off in his assessment of the size of the wave swell – he said they were only 2 feet, maybe 3. Was he off in spite of his years of sailing the ocean? They were at least 4 ½ to 6!! (Grandmothers – who have never sailed - know these things :) [Sailing editor’s note: wave height is measured from the midpoint, therefore, when at the bottom of a wave (in the trough) it’s possible the wave looks four to six feet high… but of course they weren’t!]
The outrigger part of the catamaran was worth its weight in gold in my humble opinion – certainly seemed to be steadying the craft when we were being jostled about. The highlight of this portion of the trip was Carys – who is equally convinced that death awaits anyone travelling on a boat as well as a plane. She sat in her dad’s lap with scrawny little arms clasped firmly around his neck, face buried in his chest and advised him in between tears, “We aren’t going to dwown, we are going to die”. Jasper started the trip frightened but later relaxed, informing Charles and the kids, “I’m feeling better now.” Carys replied with, “WELL I’M NOT!”
In spite of Carys dire prognostications we reached our port – twilight now and it only took 2 tries to maneuver into the dock. And it really did get tricky here. The staff threw a gangplank to the dock and we had to climb from boat to dock with the waves raising the gangplank up and down a good 3-4 feet and the wind really howling. It could have been quite nasty if someone had slipped but, praise God, everyone made it although some of the passengers were very nervous. At one point Blake and I got somewhat stabilized on the heaving dock and coaxed a frightened lady along the gangplank with words of encouragement. Rain and winds are continuing to build. We all made our way to the beach and land and the charming port of Puerto Galera! – which I am sure is charming but in the pitch black it was hard to say. After a few moments of waiting our driver arrived from the Villa and introduced himself. The good old language barrier was in place as we all tried different words and names to establish whether or not he had found the right party. “Shyla” was the magical name that brought us all together – she is our hostess (who we found out also had the flu). We all grabbed our luggage and to our surprise began a rather challenging walk through sand, beach, shops, narrow rain-filled alleyways, over rocks and under bumps and after approximately 250 meters arrived at the jeepney. Again, we repeated the steps of packing luggage into the back with us squished in on either side. Tess and Carys up front with the driver. Sela was snuggled up to me until she suddenly disappeared from sight when the driver had trouble changing gears, almost stalled and then SHOT forward. The luggage piled up beside Sela also shot backward and nailed me in the cheek and covered Sela – fortunately, we were just fine and thought this was more than appropriate considering the adventure we were on.
We stopped once at a local market to quickly purchase milk for the children and Canadian Club for Blake (not easy to find in Asia… PG was impressing us so far!) A few minutes later we held on for dear life as the vehicle attempted to roar up a sharp incline – praise be! We made it and lo and behold we were at Villa Saraminaok!! Two delightful ladies met us – Reyalen and Reyalee (a bit confusing for this brain) and had a scrumptious meal of Chicken Adobe waiting for us. Soooooo good. Tess disappeared to bed the moment we arrived and the rest of us did not last long after dinner. Sleep is sprinkled with, of course, the roosters who do not operate on the “once only” policy but go on and on and on, etc. We all have darling little resident geckos in our rooms who call to one another during the night and for some reason I don’t think I miss a call.
Since our arrival at the Villa none of us has been disappointed. We are surrounded by beauty and a view that is beyond an adequate description. The villa is situated on the top of a hill with lush palm trees and copious vegetation. The ocean surrounds us and the beach holds endless charms especially for the children. Charles and I took the gang to the beach for probably an hour and a half yesterday and although they could not actually swim due to the typhoon and size of the waves they had a ball playing in the surf with Dad in wetsuit as Lifeguard. They were tousled by the waves over and over and over and their joy was complete. What a ticket for children going to bed early. All of us, in fact, were in bed by 7:30 and asleep by 8pm (except Tess and Charles who watched early installments of Big Bang Theory on their computer.
Yesterday, Charles, Blake, the girls and I walked to the nearest village – again, another grand adventure. Very local sums it up! But nevertheless, it was fun with numerous attempts at the ATM for Blake to take out money (never worked), hearing the gorgeous church bells calling the flock, seeing the cutest little children maneuvering the streets and potholes and gas-spewing jeepneys like pros, mange-covered dogs wandering about, happy chatter from all age groups. We found the best possible place for lunch – quite amazing really as I did not see any other appropriate restaurant anywhere – Casa d’Italia – where we enjoyed a delightful lunch. While there a local white character strode by our table – a healthy gentleman who was likely in his eighties, white hair, straight back and stance, a freshly painted black shiny Nazi helmet on his head, enormous and thick bright yellow-framed glasses on his head and matching bright yellow crocs on his feet. A charmer for sure. We shopped for some grocery supplies, then jumped into two motorized–tricycles and headed home. All was well until we reached the bottom of the sharply-inclined hill leading to the villa. Blake’s and Charles’ vehicle revved up and had a go – slammed into stairs which paralleled the narrow driveway. Then the jeepney carrying the girls and me gunned its engine, did a wild 360 turn and raced for the hill – and slammed into the stairs. Engine died. We all agreed on a new and lower price for the ride, gathered our purchases and walked the rest of the way home : )
One other item worthy of note – the food that is prepared for us is truly wonderful. We have all noted it. Last night was roast chicken, scalloped potatoes (both Tess and I believe they were the best we have ever eaten) and cauliflower followed by – be still my heart – banana fritters with sliced mangos and watermelon. Truly, food fit for a king. We are so blessed.
We have met Xavier (haven’t met Shyla yet) who owns the Villa. Oh my – it is such a God-story. Xavier is a man of quality and hosts missions in his two villas so that the missionaries can rest and be re-invigorated to carry on the work of God. Sigh. In fact, he is quite sure he has had ICM here in the past – ICM is the mission that Tess and Charles are heavily involved in. Isn’t it all amazing and wonderful.
We would all come here again in a heartbeat – I think that includes Carys! Sooo lovely. Sooo peaceful. Xavier has another villa just below us which Charles has walked around. It has an unhindered view of the ocean and Charles was gobsmacked by how wonderful this particular villa is – maybe we will be able to rent it if it is available and if we ever come back. Our villa, by the way, consists of two buildings with Blake and me in one bedroom and the girls in the other of the main building. Across the pool – outside the sliding doors – is a smaller building with two more double rooms in which Tess and Charles are in one and the boys in the other. The wind is so warm and refreshing – interestingly there is no Air Con and the open shutter windows and doors keep the villa entirely comfortable.
So, dear family and friends, we are well and safe. The typhoon is almost gone, the monsoons have vanished, the sun is shining and Maureen is oh so happy in the warm winds and heat. I was born for this!! In 2 short days here my nails have transformed into being healthy and firm – reason enough to stay!
Much love to you all. Blessings to each of you.
M on behalf of us all. xox
Comments