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A murderous bus trip to Calbayog, Single Adventure Tours 2002 - SAMAR |
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The days passed by as faster as I could do all the things I had planed. On the last two days in Sabang we were visiting Jenney 's sister near White Beach. It rained all day long. Jenney's sister cooked for us at noon. There was (amazingly) rice and no fish this time , but some type of greasy pork. Fortunately for me red peppers were easily harvested at the back of the house. Hey man I love this spicy stuff. As we sat there and ate, it came out that Jenney had not been in her province for six years. Her sister's husband has never been in Calbayog, the birthplace of his wife. The 25 hours long bus-journey would surely not cost much, so I quickly decided to invite both of them to join us. Later it would turn out, that this was a sapient decision, because I could not manage my heavily luggage without their help (diving and foto-equipment). Thanks a lot. One more time my spirit was full of adventure, though saying farewell to Sabang was very, very hard for me; this country is so exciting to tour and I do not recommend you spending your whole vacation in one hotel at one place. The people here make traveling addictive. I would like to meet them all. From Sabang divers I got a hot tip to visit Malapascua island to see the legendary tresher sharks, if I even drive to Cebu. Jenney was already there and advised me strongly to visit this island on the nothern top of Cebu Island. But I show you the sharks in the third part of this report from my Single - adventure - tour 2002. Some of you could be shocked by the melting pot of manila, but one thing is sure, it is exciting each time to be there. We started an early morning with the 8. 00 o'clock boat to Batangas. We drove in Manila to one of the numerous bus-terminals. This one I still remember because nearby a purchase-center is situated, that was named after Mohamed Ali "Ali Mall" , because he had opened just the shopping centre after a famous fight here with his award-money. (Anyway this was what I could figure out from the bad English of the taxi driver.) When we arrived at the bus terminal I was surprised with the genial message
that all busses were fully booked. Finally at the end of this gigantic crowd
on a smallish stand somebody sold me four bus-tickets for a non
airconditioned bus, but this bus would leave the next day.
I considered where we could overnight for a good value here in Manila. Here
I was somewhere in Cubao and I had no idea which pensions would be safe and
in our price category. Actually I didn't feel like losing my equipment in an
unsecured room. The next day we started early so as not to miss the bus. We met Jenny's sister right away. They had been awaiting us in the crowd for hours. When I saw the bus and the sympathetic look in Jennys eyes, I got a shock. It smelt strongly of urine on the whole terrain, so that I gave up on the idea of breakfast. The bus overflowed with persons and material. The people sat on their benches or climbed on the back of the benches over the heads of passengers, because on the walk hutches, bags and else luggage became stockpiled almost to the roof. My tip for such trips is that your main luggage should be a hard-shells-case to give thieves no possibility to slice your bag and to disourage other stupid ideas. So we sat squeezed between stereo-facilities and chickens-portage-reservoirs and waited on the more and more yearned departure of the bus. They were trying to sell more tickets, but there were no more free seats. Despaired dreamers tried to find any bus space, and climbed out depressed again. As it was clear that no more money was to make with this livestock-transport, the crew of the bus gave the command for the departure. Even more, I couldn't believe that I had voluntarily agreed to such insanity; but as I saw Jenny, how she was sitting beside me, I knew whatever was waiting out there would be rewarding for us. While driving most of the windows were permanently open, so that if you were close to the window, you got fresh air, especially if the bus drove fast. Soon the melting pot of Manila lays hours behind us, and we bought through the windows the snacks of corncobs and peanuts while passing through villages. The journey was going through the mountains. At dusk we looked into breath-taking valleys and the most active Philippine volcano seems to be not far. The second stop took place in the dead of night and God knew alone where we were detained now. Only one thought tormented my mind at this moment: How to get some yearned for sleep. During a stop, the floodlight of the bus on my neck, I was running like an addict between the digs and tried to raise a bottle of Tanduay. In latest instance I found an aging store with an also aging saleswoman, who sells me a bottle gin, which looked like baby-nutrient available at the former GDR (former communist part of Germany). I've never looked so skeptically at a bottle of spirits and at the first swallow I had the genuine trepidation to wake up blind the next morning. My fears was now obviously completely wrong, but not about the NPA operating in this region. Getting out and in during the stops was always through the window, because the way through the bus essentially was impossible. The meals offered during the stops were very unusual and always a challenge for Europeans and North Americans. Sometime after midnight the bus drove onto a ferryboat. At the docks we bought a couple of great tins of biscuits as big as one of the family-packs of detergent. It would be a present for Jenny's extended family (15 kids). We sat down on a bench on the deck overtired and physical exhausted. The passage to Samar are vague in my memories. What I know is, that someone on Samar reached me the bloody heavy case through that bus-window and I almost collapsed under the weight. We climbed aboard a Jeepney and slept directly. As I woke up, I was surrounded by innumerable bicycles with sidecars and Filipinos jogging me awake and spoke from all sides to my tired head, until I had decided on a vehicle. We were in the city of Calbayog, a very clean and kind small town on Samar Island. The hotel where we stayed was called "Tourist Hotel" or something similar original. The room had no numbers but names, each room name on the same floor had the same initials. Our room was called Edwin, Edward, Edgar or something like that. After a shower we relaxed as fiances do and slept a little bit. The next day we went to the market and bought fish and meat. The markets on the Philippines are always worth seeing, the people are always disposed to kidding and zest will be all around if you see them. But often the smells are no for tender minds or noses. I had a lot of fun with this friendly people. With all what we bought and my photographic equipment we took a trike and drove in the rice-fields to Jennys family. Sometime after one half hour that trike could no longer manage the thick jungle and we climbed on an off-road motorcycle, that carried us deeper and deeper into the fields of rice. Our arrival was more than cordially celebrated. The kids from the whole
village streamed to Jenny's hovel and stared astonished at me. They really
looked like fans.
![]() next part of this Story- Playing with Tresher Sharks part before of this Story - Sexy Diving Adventures © 2002 by Single Adventure Tours |
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