We happen to be in El Nido (The Nest) during Holy Week, aka Easter Holidays, which means finding accommodation has been hard. So we’re pleasantly surprised when we arrive to our “beggars can’t be choosers” hostel and it’s pretty decent! Most importantly, we have two kinds of aircon, which we whack onto max after the sweaty bus, tuk tuk and walk here.
After a shower and a cool-down, we have some errands to run before we can really take in our latest destination. We circle the small town in a matter of minutes making the most of being back in civilisation, feeding hungry bellies, getting laundry handed over, booking a dive, and booking on an island hopping tour.
What better to feed some hangry bears than a schnitzel sandwich and frozen mojitos:
The constant buzzing of tuk-tuks, scooters and people rushing by is a huge change from the nothing we have just come from, and the heat away from the waterfront breeze is oppressive. With our missions accomplished, we hide back at our accommodation once more. Having had lunch at 4pm, we’ve decided to just have pot noodles for dinner to tide us over til the morning, and enjoy a pretty impressive Souper Noodle bowl for 70p.
The Imaginitively Named, Tour A
There are four island hopping tours in El Nido, and for some unknown reason, they decided to just name them A-D. Tour A is apparently the best one to do, at least according to the blogs, so that’s what we’ll do. It includes a few island beaches, some snorkelling, a kayak, and lunch. Swarms of tourists pour onto the beachfront each morning ready to be herded into their appropriate boat for the day. Our boat is called the Arribada… one of many amazing ‘spell it how it sounds’ examples in this country, and our guide Marvin welcomes us with all the energy, fun and excitement like he doesn’t have to do this day in day out. It’s impressive, and he gets the whole boat clapping along whilst he does his riff.
We start off heading out to the “Secret Lagoon”, which is of course about as secret as El Nido. We join the queues of people waiting to hop through the single-file entrance, and get our first glimpse of this small lagoon encased by sheer cliff-faces. The rocks here are reminiscent of Saruman’s tower in Lord of the Rings, with sharp jagged edges cutting into the sky, interspersed with greenery of nature that has found itself in a nook, finding any way to survive.
We have a bit of a plod about on the golden beaches, admiring the palm trees and “floating” islands around us. We can see why so many people come here on holiday, it’s beautiful.
Next we’re off to a spot to do some snorkelling. I don a life jacket and am eager to get another look at the underwater life I’ve fallen in love with. Near our boat, there are schools of electric blue small fish, but it’s by going further afield that I find a group of different, wonderfully coloured fish having some lunch of their own. I even find a solitary orange sea squirt. Despite my best attempts at taking photos, nothing beats our Dive Master Jenny on the Go-Pro, you’ll have to use your imagination. When I return, James tells me someone got back on the boat complaining there was nothing to see. I feel smug at my new-found love for exploring the water and being rewarded for it.
It’s only 11:30, but it’s time for lunch. This is our kind of boat! We’re dropped on Shimizu Island as our crew setup a table with a buffet of food for us to get through. We gorge on noodles, rice, pork, chicken and fish (sorry fish!), and many of our group begin the transformation to lobster.
Our next stop is to Big Lagoon, where ‘we’ go kayaking. James does most of the work. Expertly maneuvering us past groups of weaker tourists who give up a quarter of the way in, and through rock formations. Thwarted only by two things. His own oar, which he finds to be wider than the cave entrance, akin to a dog carrying a very large stick trying to bring it inside the house. And a tiny human so engrossed in trying to pull her parents’ kayak in the shallows she doesn’t notice us slowly but surely coming straight for her. It’s a fun meander around getting to enjoy some more of these limestone monoliths.
Last stop is to 7 Commandos beach, a picturesque beach with palm trees, volleyball nets and a shop for tourists to relax on and take in the scenery. Except for the guy warning people to not sit directly under the palm trees due to falling coconuts, less relaxing! We find a shady spot, as the rest of the group cement in their transformation to full lobster. Having spent the last few days on a huge (almost private it was so quiet) beach, we are reminded once more of how lucky we are, that this beach is just one of many stunning beaches we’ve gotten to experience in the last seven months. This is the coolest I’ve been since we’ve arrived to El Nido without aircon, so whilst everyone makes the most of their winter sunshine getaways, I’m a happy potato curled up in the shade having a snooze.
I wake with a start, just at our pick-up time, and we return to El Nido with a boat full of lobsters rather than the Caucasians we set off with. No wonder every massage parlour offers “aloe vera sunburn massages” here!
We spend the next day chilling out, having a wonderful brunch, reading, researching, blogging, hiding in the aircon, getting haircuts (only one done by a professional!), and James treats himself to a massage in the evening.
The Dive in The Nest
Our last day in El Nido is spent doing the other most popular activity here, going scuba diving. I’ve found a dive centre called El Dive run by a Japanese man called Yoshi. Our guide this time can take photos for us, so we have some souvenirs to remember each dive by.
Our boat consists of a Swedish couple, who are doing a “Refresher dive” after 10 years since certification so they can get back in the water, and three Japanese who are with us for their second dive in as many days. They have an array of photographic gear with them. Our guide today is called Ranz, he’s friendly enough but keeps to himself. I warn him about the buoyancy issues I had in Port Barton and hope today will be a better day.
Our first stop is Helicopter Island. This island is known for its tunnel, which we are too novice to be allowed into (thankfully!). Instead, we get to explore the life outside the tunnel, starting strong just in the sand before even getting to the reef.
Our first find is a black and vibrant blue striped lump in the middle of the sandy floor. In this world, it could be anything…
He gives it a little prod with his pointing device and the lump collapses into individual nudibranches! These are called blue velvet nudibranches:
We also see our first ray, a blue spotted ray. Ranz does an incredible job seeing the ray resting, incognito under the sand, only its tail and eyes poking through to hint at its existence:
James spots something else on the sandy floor, and Ranz lays his land underneath it and lifts it from the floor, as its whole body wriggles and the sand floats off it and reveals a flounder fish. Ranz hands it to James’s outstretched hand and it has a little flutter before heading back down into the anonymity of the sand. We also see many more clownfish of different colours, including black ones. Watching them scrubbing against an anemone never gets old.
Unfortunately, my buoyancy issues return, and I spend much of the second half of the dive trying to swim my way back down as my tank gets emptier, and therefore more buoyant, trying to drag me to the surface. My mask also keeps leaking, so I’m constantly breathing in little amounts of seawater through my nose (I really can’t get the hang of only mouth-breathing!). At least I don’t fly straight up to the surface this time, as there are boats constantly going back and forth up above. James by contrast is comfortable, smooth, gliding about like a pro, with more controlled breathing, as I flap and struggle my way around like Bambi on ice again. Still, we surface and excitedly start the “did you see…?!” game.
Our second stop is to North Rock, one for everyone here. Ranz gives me a different mask and as I see my tank getting nearer to empty on my gauge, I start to dump air from my BCD to try and preempt the buoyancy of the tank. This works, to an extent. Rather than shooting up, I’m now struggling to stay off the bottom. That’s far easier to manage than flying to the surface though!
This time we get to float among lots of amazing soft coral. Ranz seems to have far more confidence in us than I do, as he weaves through tight spaces and between walls of coral as I do my best to leave nature in tact. Admittedly, my best isn’t good enough in some places.
We see vast amounts of banner fish (that I call Willem Defoe in my head, thank you Nemo), lots of massive parrotfish, and a big white triangular fish called a long-fin spadefish just hovering, like an ominous force in Dune, just watching down below, and a massive wall of the beautiful ink spot sea squirts I’m a bit obsessed with:
There’s loads of life down here, even our first small current to content with.
Our final stop is to Paglugaban, and I finally find a technique that more-or-less works, so I can enjoy the whole dive. We get to see no less than three turtles on this dive, hawksbill and green.
Ranz is off getting photos of one of them whilst I float mesmerized by a couple of nudibranches. What previously I couldn’t care less about, I’m now fascinated. They’re so colourful, and small, and cute! It’s like they gave me a love potion and now I can see their true beauty, and I can also spot them everywhere. My eyes are open!
For scale, the one I see are about 2cm max, these ones are called birder nudibranches. My love for these lil cuties firmly awakened, I start seeing them all over the place. But Ranz sees this stuff day in, day out, and so he’s off in search of more interesting fauna. He does find us a completely white nudibranch too, but seems most excited by a small fluttering creature we find out is called the Sweet Lips fish
There are also schools of big flat fish shimmering around us, that no photo does justice to. More massive parrot fish, with their jagged teeth threatening the smaller fish around them. A collection of little catfish, a huge humphead bannerfish juvenile, and a chonky pufferfish:
Despite the difficulties I have with my buoyancy, it’s still another amazing experience, with reefs and corals giving Moalboal a run for its money.
We return to shore thoroughly exhausted and satisfied.
Sipping into the Sunset
We decide to treat ourselves to some cocktails infront of the sunset for our last night in El Nido. On our way into town, there were posters advertising Sip Sunset Bar on almost every lamp-post, and it was clearly worth the money. We walk our way over to the other beach of El Nido, through the chaos of tuk-tuks, mopeds, hawkers, street sellers, cars and noise, and are amazed at the peace and tranquility of the beach just one block away. We’re early and get prime seating on the beach-front. Free welcome shots are handed to us by Bob, who introduces himself as the host for the evening, and wants to “welcome [us] home”, something he does for all the patrons here. The owner also is around and does the same. An incredible level of service, so simple but affective. We have a couple of happy hour cocktails as the sun sets behind the rocks, and we enjoy the changing colour of the sky over the horizon.
We end the evening with a dinner at Big Bad Thai, gorging on amazing spring rolls, deep fried rice balls (akin to arancini), and two curries that make us sweat even more than the sweltering ambient heat of this town. For dinner, we have Nutella crepes back at the hostel, and pass out exhausted in stuffed, tipsy haze.
El Nido has been a hot, sweaty, beauty, full of Brits abroad, but amazing food, service, sights, and a maybe few too many sounds 😉 I can understand why so many people like it here for holidays, it’s a good place to come and experience island hopping, snorkelling, diving, good food and drink, all in one place, so you can do it all in a short amount of time, without lengthy buses or vans. It’s been fun, but wreck dives call us on.
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Adventure – Island hopping, more sea exploration
Excitement – being able to finally see the elusive nudibranches, seeing a sting-ray, discovering James doesn’t have a weird shaped head under that hair!
Trauma – feeling dragged up to the surface, breathing seawater, a brief visit to the Bad Belly Club
Crossing over from Cebu island to the island of Palawan is fairly painless, except for the aborted landing that gives us a bit of a shock as we attempt to land at high speed. We’re informed by the captain we had a strong tailwind! The long journey is broken up by spending a night in Puerto Princesa. We don’t see much of it, landing after dark and staying in a hostel close to the airport. Apparently there is an underground river that is a MUST SEE, but we’ve seen plenty of amazing caves and by this point in the travels we prefer to stay in one place for longer rather than trying to do too many locations. We pop out for dinner and I have a Red Bull to provide some wings. It’s served in a tiny bottle and looks and tastes more like medicine than the sugary version we have back home. We return to our hostel and crash out after another tiring transfer day.
In the morning we notice the guesthouse we’re staying in houses a miniature zoo. There are various reptiles in cages and a couple of tiny pups run between our feet. The owner is really friendly and helps us organise our transport to Saint Vicente. So far everyone has simply told us to turn up at the bus station and hope for the best. With some help we’re able to arrange for a shared van to collect us from here and take us directly to our accomodation some way North of Saint Vicente town proper. Somehow, despite searching in the area of Port Barton, the beach house we’ll be staying at for the next five nights is 73km away from there. Not quite what we had in mind!
A bumpy five hour journey later we arrive at Victoria Beach House. Our room overlooks the ocean, opens straight out into the bar/restaurant area and has immediate access to a huge empty beach. We’ve made worse mistakes.
We spend our first afternoon settling in and I take a walk along the beach. Annoyingly there is a rope and a “Temporarily Closed” sign blocking access to the adjacent beach I’d hoped to walk or run across in the next few days. All of the staff seem confused about this and simply advise me it should be open, just walk across the rocks they say. Alex and I ponder what we’ll do for the next few days as we’re pretty cut off from anywhere popular and there isn’t much to do in the local area except beach.
Walking along the beach earlier I noticed the small waves were an odd colour, deep green. There is a lot of seaweed/algae in the water that is so dense it’s changed the colour of the sea! We have the first meal in the beach house restaurant (surrounded by friendly stray dogs) and retire to bed. To our dismay there is a local family staying in the room across from ours and they’re enjoying a Filipino’s favourite pastime all afternoon, karaoke through a speaker… Once that finishes the family in the room next to us make a real racket, and through the thin wooden walls we can hear every word. We try to drown them out with the air con but neither of us sleep particularly well.
All change please
After a pretty disturbed night… at one point the air con cut off and there was a lot of shouting and shrieking from next door… We request to change rooms for the first time on our trip. It works a treat as we’re technically upgraded to a more modern room at the back of the property with a nicer layout and most importantly, solid walls away from the hustle and bustle.
Once we’ve settled into our new digs, we head out for another beach walk. Sadly, even though the beach is usually deserted and we’re often the only people on it, there is a lot of litter. This time we decide to do something about it and take a couple of carrier bags with us to pick up some plastic before it is gobbled up by the ocean. It doesn’t take long for us to fill two bags. I don’t think we’ll win any conservation awards but it’s rewarding to do our part for pachamamma.
Even after a short half hour walk, in this heat we’re absolutely baking. The tide is stronger today and seems to have washed all of the algae back out to sea. We cool off in the waves and bring our body temperatures back down. We feel the occasional sting, something is prickling at our skin. It doesn’t hurt but it’s quite a weird sharp itch. We try to figure out what it might be, jellyfish or some spiky seaweed? We later discover it is angry plankton!
Following a delightful backpacker meal of granola, incredibly sugary liquid yoghurt and mini banana float, we attempt to secure transportation for our scuba dive trip tomorrow.
The scuba dive centre has told Alex there’s a direct route not shown on Google. Our place rents out scooters for 700 pesos (£10) a day, so we enquire about hiring one from 7am tomorrow. Curious why we need one so early, we explain to the receptionist that we intend to drive to Port Barton. She seems confused, tells us it’s too far, and clearly they don’t want us to use their bike to get there and refuse. Hmm. A spanner is in the works. There’s no public transport here and any private transfer would cost a small fortune. They offer a private transfer at 4000 pesos (£57). Disheartened, but determined, Alex wanders next door to see if they can be more helpful. She chats to a couple who have literally just arrived from Port Barton by scooter. It most certainly is possible. Their reception indicate a bike hire shop just one block from our accommodation. They offer us a bike for 500 and say they’re open from 6.30 so a 7am pickup won’t be an issue. Phew.
Returning to town later in the afternoon we pickup some more rum and coke that is so cheap it’s hard to believe. A 400ml bottle of rum is around £1.40, two small bottles of coke for around half that. We take our haul to the beachfront and watch a glorious sunset, well oiled on rum and sugar.
For our evening meal we try the Turtle Beach place next door. We sit out facing the beach and are served by a friendly young woman who, like most Filipinos, greets us as Sir and Ma’am. We feel like royalty. Alex tries the XL burger and fries while I settle for some fried chicken. Not quite the food you’d expect at the seaside but oddly it’s rare to see any good fish on the menu despite the proximity to the ocean.
Dive and Drive
After a much better night of sleep we arrive bright eyed and bushy tailed to pick up our moped for the day. It’s name is James Theo. We’re advised not to fill it above 4 bars of fuel as something needs fixing. That’s all we’re told and we’re on our way! Unsure what to expect from the roads today and expecting the worst, I’m pleasantly surprised to discover the road to Saint Vicente is paved and quiet. We have a smooth ride for the first hour and despite a couple of wrong turns we make it to our marker of Paragua Town in good time. That is sadly where the paved road ends. From here to Port Barton, which is still an hour away, it’s bumpy rocks, loose gravel, dust, sand and even a water hazard making up a so called road. I haven’t done much driving on a scooter and having seen some of the resulting scars in Thailand years ago, I’m keen to avoid any accidents, especially with Alex on the back. It’s difficult and exhausting and I’m now racing against the clock to make it to the beach on time whilst ensuring we keep our bodies intact. Somehow we arrive at the beach just in time and count our limbs. They’re all still attached.
Good road:
Bad road:
We quickly change into our swimming gear and board the boat that’s bobbing around just off shore. We meet our group and dive masters for the day and set sail. Our first stop is the ‘Swimming Pool’ dive site around 45 minutes off the coast of Port Barton. Visibility is not great and the scene is a bit more drab and lifeless than the vibrant coral reef in Cebu. Still it’s what we wanted in terms of being able to practise our diving without our instructor Jenny. One of the more interesting creatures we see is a cuttlefish stalking across the seabed with it’s alien-like tentacles.
Next up is our first wreck dive. The sunken vessel is a cargo ship that sank around 50 years ago. It’s incredible to see how quickly nature has claimed and smothered it with pink mushroom shaped corals. Our guide takes us into the interior of the ship and we swim through a rusted doorway, not an easy feat with a huge cylinder on our backs! There is an air pocket which our guide advises we stick our heads up into. It’s very disconcerting to have your head in open air knowing you’re 20 meters underwater. As we descend back through the large bowel of the wreck, a huge school of fish sit there with their deadpan stare just bobbing around in the water like this is a natural place for them to call home. It’s a shame we don’t have any pictures from this dive as it’s difficult to explain the ghostly sight of a sunken ship reclaimed by the eerily still silence of the depths.
We ascend and board our boat once more. The most difficult part of a dive is removing the giant rubber fins while clinging onto the side of a boat in the choppy water! Usually the dive guide or boat crew help us with our gear, making life a lot easier than when we had to do it all ourselves while earning our PADI. Lunch is a triple deck club sandwich and a mini banana, filling enough as our next dive is not far away.
As we prepare for our third and final dive of the day, some [possibly Russian?] members of our group hawk and spit into their masks while the rest of us use the more socially appropriate liquid soap. “We prefer organic” they state as they swivel remnants of their lunch around the inside of their mask. Gross.
Our final dive is a visit to the Coral Garden. It is not as colourful or full of life as the Moalboal reef but it is astounding in a different way. As far as the eyes can see there are giant cabbage shaped coral sprawling in all directions, providing an underwater world similar to something from a Disney movie. Not many memorable fish live down here but the sunken vegetation makes for another impressive dive site. I’m glad we stuck with our PADI training and unlocked access to a fascinating world below the surface.
We return to the beautiful beach of Port Barton and get a drink at Happy Cafe on the shore wanting to spend a little bit more time here where we meant to stay. Alex gets a fruit juice and craving a pick-me-up for the slog home I ask for a Red Bull. The servers look at me like I’ve asked them to bring me a painted bovine. “Errr energy drink?” seems equally perplexing so I settle for an Americano instead.
The first half of the journey home is definitely challenging as expected but by taking it slow we reach the tarmac road unharmed. The sun is starting to set behind us providing a lovely backdrop to the journey. I play our Travel Playlist from my phone and we cruise home listening to songs that remind us of our journey so far. Bliss.
Rest Day
After such an adventurous day yesterday, we have a relaxed one without doing much at all. The only memories from today are talking to a nice chap on the beach who is opening a cafe in June and is excited to tell everyone about it (despite Filipino planning permissions) and trying a Smirnoff Mule for the first time having seen them everywhere. They’re pretty good.
Long Beach
Another day requiring a moped to get us around and the reliable James Theo is sat waiting for us at the rental shop. We drive South, past the mysteriously closed beach which we have now discovered is closed due to filming of the TV show “Survivor”. We drive down a passageway that takes us to a spot on Long Beach, earning it’s named with 18km of unbroken white sand. Again it’s practically empty and we find a spot in the shade of a palm tree, ensuring we’re out of range of falling coconuts! We spend around an hour reading and chasing shade before finding a different spot to have a dip and cool off.
For lunch we head into Saint Vicente town and I can’t resist the crispy leg of pork that looks delicious. It’s bigger than I anticipated and I end up taking half of it home for my evening meal, throwing some of the scraps and fatty bits to the Alsatian-like dog sat next to me drooling. For dessert we share a Mango Graham, again something we’ve seen throughout the Philippines but haven’t yet tried. It’s very refreshing in the heat and I suspect we’ll be having a few more of them before we leave these islands.
In the evening we head to a couple of viewpoints on the moped. While I’m driving along a sandy, quiet road a loud rumble in the shrub precedes a giant monitor lizard bounding across the road. It must have been 4-5 feet long and gives us quite a shock! After Godzilla has crossed our path we nervously continue onwards, wary of the slightest rustle. We reach the stunning viewpoints and take some photos to cap off another adventurous day.
Where there’s a will…
Right, time to move on to the popular and much more touristic spot of El Nido. How do we get there then? Well everyone we’ve asked over the last few days, and trust me we’ve asked quite a few people, tell us to go to the crossroads and flag down a van. Sounds simple enough. That is until we come to check out and the hostel owner tells us the police have been cracking down on unauthorized van pick ups and people have been calling her saying no vans wil stop, can they get a private transfer. She offers us the private transfer option which is at least five times what we thought today’s journey would cost us. Great. We figure we’ll give it a go anyway and if all else fails we’ve got an expensive backup plan. We take one of the strange electric vehicles that somewhat resemble the Pope Mobile up to the crossroads 7km outside of town. We join a group of locals and through broken conversation we discover they’re also trying to get to El Nido and have been here for some time. A handful of vans pass us by with a helpful toot of their horn to acknowledge our presence at the side of the road with our thumbs sticking out. Luckily our prayers said in the Pope Mobile have been answered and a local bus going to El Nido pulls up after about 10 minutes. It’s not a pleasant journey as it’s baking hot with no air con and in towns the bus stops every few meters to pick up or drop off passengers, but it’s dirt cheap and gets us to where we want to go.
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Adventure – Diving without Jenny to guide us. Driving through stunning locations (when the road was good). Sunsets with rum cokes, it never gets old.
Excitement – Underwater wonder. Larry the lizard, our cheeky flatmate who greeted us each night with a “GWACK” as he scurried back under our bed in fright.
Trauma – Ending up in the arse end of nowhere. Rocky roads. Vegetable chop suey, literally a bowl of basic steamed veg for 300 pisos. So much unwanted sand.
Our next stop after Hawaii is the Philippines. A place called Moalboal on the island of Cebu to be specific. No good deed goes unpunished, and with all the time changes I have no idea how long this beast of a journey took.
Our first stop was Tokyo, where we crossed the date/time divide, and technically landed in Japan before we left Hawaii. Japan Airlines gives United a run for its money as we get fed in abundance. The array of entertainment, however, is not great. We get our first taste of Japanese toilets, trying to convert from Yen, and try to have a sleep in the airport whilst we wait for our connecting flight:
The next leg is to Manila, where we are again given a proper meal. Although the meal includes fish eggs, some weird sour ‘salad’, and a freezing cold, maybe pickled?, aubergine. The flavours are a lot for dinner/breakfast. We still don’t know what meal of the day it was meant to be. Maybe looking less forward to Japanese food now!
We have a solid seven hour wait in Manila until our connection to Cebu island. I ask our man at the check-in desk if we can get on an earlier flight… sure, for an extra £150 each. Nope.
The heat of Manila is a shock to me, and for the capital city airport, it’s lacking. Whilst we share a bite and discuss next steps, I see an email saying our flight has been delayed for another three hours. That means ten hours in the airport, after I don’t know how many hours since we left the glorious Airbnb of Hawaii. Sigh.
I decide to wander back to check-in and see if we can get a bump to that earlier plane, now we have an even longer wait. After conferring with his supervisor, he confirms we can, free. Absolute win! I am giddy to tell James, and we go through to departures with only a short wait to take off.
It’s a quick up and down to Cebu, where we will spend the night before the final leg to Moalboal. At least here we’ll have a bed to sleep in, instead of an airplane or airport chair.
When James told me we were going to Cebu, for some unknown reason I imagined an island paradise. What it actually is, is the second largest city in the Philippines, with all its expected chaos, dirt, poverty and noisy glory. After our time in Cancun and Hawaii, I’m back to culture-shock.
On the way we see a huge fire burning in an area we assume is a dock. We later find out this was a slum settlement and over 200 ‘homes’ were destroyed. People who already had so little, now without even the sheets of metal over their heads they called home.
Cebu
It’s time for our favourite game of, New Country Admin, interspersed with seeing Dune 2. We have an hour. Go! James tries to find cash. I try to find a sim card. I fail. James succeeds. We rush to the cinema and find out there’s no trailers for films here and have missed the first few minutes. Still, it’s a nice escape from the last [however many] hours of travel we’ve done, and thankfully we stay awake to watch it all. The last time we went to the cinema was in Santiago, maybe five months ago. We can barely believe it.
Post film, it’s back to finish the SIM mission I started, as we are thwarted by technology once more, demanding details we don’t have to register. Eventually, we get online and can get to that bed we’ve been dreaming of.
Aircon on, James crawls into the lower bunk completely exhausted… until the aircon stops. I message the host to see if there’s a trick I’m missing, and there’s a knock at the door. A young teenager dressed in an oversized security guard outfit sheepishly stands at the door and says something. I figure he’s not out trick-or-treating but is the night guard, and I try and explain the aircon situation. He tries to explain we need to move rooms. James is having none of it, already half asleep. The host tells me that we have no choice, the engineer will come first thing to fix it. James, so close and yet so far from that elusive sleep he can usually easily get, crawls back out of bed to pack. I start doing the same, and as I do, my backpack knocks the cable of the aircon and it clicks back on. Whilst I had tried everything else, I hadn’t tried wiggling the cable for a loose wire. I’m just grateful James can get back into bed.
At last. To sleep.
Our final leg down to Moalboal goes even better than planned as we jump straight onto the next bus, taking us in four hours from city chaos to that lush greenery I was imagining. A quick haggle with a tuk-tuk driver and we’re inching our way closer to our final destination. After paying a tax we didn’t know existed, our driver eeks and ows with every single bump of his tricycle tuk-tuk, as though he’s on a comedy skit, and there are a lot of bumps. He drops us off, and points in a direction. We walk. We walk. We walk. The directions on Airbnb are as confusing as always. The Google map address takes us to a private property. The sun is baking us in all our black travel clothes under the weight of our backpacks. We retrace our steps and just ask everyone and anyone. A friendly gringo yells out to offer help, and we ask the reception of his accommodation. “That’s here” the receptionist says. Just the place we’ve walked passed almost three times now. But we’re here. 55 hours since we left the Airbnb in Hawaii. We’re finally, here. Moalboal, a place renowned for its diving. So let’s get to it shall we!
Dive Another Day
We’ve decided to do what’s called a “Discover Dive”, where you learn and practice some scuba diving basics, before getting out for a quick dive to see how you find it. Our guide is Raul, and he teaches us how to go up, down, clear our masks, and replace our regulators (the mouthpiece you breath from) if it comes out. We both seem to manage these skills without issue, and so it’s time to hit the reef! We quickly learn that buoyancy and moving around with flippers on is a right pain in the bum, and we flounder and flail and bump one another like bambi on ice, but underwater. Despite discomfort and unease, we get to see some incredible life in even this shallow part of the reef wall, including Nemo and his dad having a scrub in an anemone just like in the film.
As we exit and debrief, I decide I want to go ahead with Open Water Certification. James is unsure. Time for a rest and decompress, by hiring a moped and driving into the mountains for hours!
Osmeña
One of the land-based activities to do here is to go up into the lumpy highlands of Badian. According to Google it should take just over and hour, so we decide to make an afternoon of it, have a break deciding about the PADI, and make it back before it gets dark. After deciding against a multi-gear motorcycle offered by our hostel… James secures us a hulking beast of a scooter, we agree to a safety word of “CLEAR!” if he feels it start to fall, we don our too-small helmets, check the map, and head off.
We pootle along, moving up along winding roads, as the heat finally dissipates and there’s respite from the heat of the baking Philippines sun. An hour in, however, and we’re still literal miles from our destination. It seems we are going half as fast as Google expected. A recalculation of our trajectory and we agree to keep going and see how far we can get.
Along the way, we get toots, beeps, and “Hey!”s from the locals. We’ve clearly watched too many horror films as our immediate thoughts are that they are trying to warn us about something ahead, and that we should turn back. We spot a wide human-shaped Wickermanesque lump standing stiff in the road ahead… only to realise as we near it that it’s a giant basket of cabbage waiting for pick-up. Proceeding around the corner, fields of cabbages surround us and an oddly placed human-size cauldron sits next to the road. Are we about to be turned into a meal? Assuring ourselves that we are not going to become gringo-soup, we settle in to this new way of interacting with locals, and start waving and smiling back at each tiny human who runs out to great us with glee. I’m able to take in the opening views around us as we go further into the mountains, and the vast fields of cabbages that are being hand-harvested all around.
Eventually, we make it to the Osmeña peak tourist centre. The sun is already lowering in the sky, but thankfully it’s only a short walk to the top now. Still, you have to be accompanied by a ‘guide’.
The guide tries to make standard conversation, saying how English are a kind people, but any question we ask is met by an answer to a completely different question. It’s a sad reminder that I can no longer speak the local language, creating an immediate barrier between us and them.
On the short way up, our ‘guide’ does point out several things (although we don’t understand what they are), and gets us to do various silly poses for photos in various spots. One tourist jokes “you’re not a guide you’re a photographer“, and we realise this is the truth of it. People want photos more than they want information these days, and so they’ve prioritised these skills over the latter. We play along, but it’s an odd situation where we just want to take in the stunning view, and breath the cool, clean air. Whilst our guide wants to make sure we have every photo possible, including mimicking a drone video. We feel old!
Noticing the sun creeping closer to the horizon, we make a swift exit back down, bid farewell to our ‘guide/photographer’, have a square of fudge mum brought out from Otford for energy, and start the long journey back down. The kids now running for high-fives as we pass, and us weaving about eager not to disappoint.
Thanks to James’ great driving, we make it back after dark (oops), satisfied, shattered, and ravenous. The journey has also given James time to decide that he’ll do the PADI with me.
We extend our reservation at the Airbnb, book on to start in two days’ time, book our next flights with this in mind, and James books onto a canyoneering tour tomorrow as a last ditch attempt to injure himself and not have to go ahead (just kidding!).
Over to James…
Jump before you are pushed
I’m picked up by “Jonathan”, alone on his moped outside our hostel and once again I wonder if I’m about to be turned into sausages. Luckily I’m not on the menu today and I’m dropped off to wait with the rest of the foreigners to jump off rocks in a canyon. Halfway there we stop off to get kitted up. There’s over twenty people in a small room. One person adjusts my helmet while another fits my lifejacket, meanwhile three separate people attempt to sell me a locker a waterproof phone case and a Go Pro rental. It’s chaos.
Eventually we’re back in the van and on the road to the start of our plunging adventure. On the way we pass an ‘arena’ which an American in our group recognises as a cock fighting location. Clearly this somewhat cruel gambling game is still legal over here! We reach the start of the Canyoneering trail and are given the world’s shortest safety briefing, Costa Rica rafting this is not. During the short briefing I notice signs on the wall for various gun ranges, shotguns, pistols and rifle shooting available to all.
We start the trail, a forty minute walk in the drizzle while a Latvian family in my group take the easier option. A quick zip line across the valley cuts their walk down to just five minutes. As we wait for them, I’m relieved to see a signpost indicating that the highest jump is “only” 30ft, half the height of a 60ft drop I’d read about on a blog post that left me a little scared.Finally we’re into the cold waters of the canyon river. Many guides provide support for our group. Curiously all their names begin with J including our leader, ‘Captain Jack Sparrow’. They all have the humour of mischievous school boys and crack endless jokes all the way down the canyon to keep spirits high. The first jump isn’t too bad, between 12-16ft high with no time to think about it I throw myself into the water below. First one done. There are a couple of rock slides where you lie backwards and are pushed down a smooth natural ride. A ‘THIS IS SPARTA’ kick recreation for anyone that’s seen 300.
In the calm sections we form water snakes and the guides drag us through while singing “The wheels on the bus go round and round”. I think they enjoy their job as much as the tourists.
Another jump section, this one is 21ft but I spot a few people jumping in from 15ft. “Can I jump from there?” I ask Captain Jack, “No Sir, that is the girl’s jump!” My pride in tatters I jump from the girl’s height, along with the 6ft2 Latvian man and pretty much the rest of the group. One of only two people to jump from higher up is a German girl called Leonie who rightfully states that we came here for the adrenaline so why not do it all.
After a bit more meandering and a short walk the final jump comes into view. The 10 meter/30 ft platform doesn’t look too bad from a distance. We climb up to it and it’s a running jump into Oblivion. Leonie’s words from earlier ring in my ears, this IS what we came here for, I can regain my pride. Only Leonie and an American from our group are in front of me and throw themselves off like suicidal lemmings. I take the run up and commit to the drop. It feels like you’re in the air for an age before the water gratefully swallows you up and absorbs your velocity and fear.
A bit of light relief after the big jump, Tarzan rope swing. Many tourists try to copy the acrobatics of our guides and attempt backflips with various degrees of success. The last part of the adventure is climbing behind a massive waterfall and jumping through it’s powerful liquid curtain to swim out in it’s current. A guide points out a ruined platform beside the waterfall, that’s the 60ft jump that the blog was talking about. Luckily for me it was ruined by a typhoon a few years ago!
Back to Alex
Open Water Crash Course
We enjoy our downtime in this tiny tourist town, mostly enjoying eating out for every meal as food is back to being well within our budget, after scrimping all the way through Central America and Hawaii. James discovers Red Horse, a 7% beer for less than the price of a water in London.
When we’re not eating, drinking, napping in aircon, or dreaming of a rooster massacre, we do our homework of getting through the PADI training material to learn everything we need for the exam. The rest, is practice.
Our instructor is Jen/Jenny/Jenelyn. A tiny young Filipino woman with a beaming smile and calm and ease underwater like she was born in it.
Our first morning involves learning and practicing necessary skills, largely to do with how to check our kit on land, removing, replacing, and filling our masks with water, different skills with the regulators and using our partner’s, and buoyancy control. I fail on a few of these tasks, but Jenny gets me through them, for better or worse.
This part of the course is called ‘confined water’ dives, because they are typically done in a swimming pool. However, we are doing all these out in the shore in the open sea. The wavy, choppy, sea, with a current that keeps us moving even if as we try and stay still. Not only does this add a layer of difficulty to the exercises we’ve seen once on video and now have to recreate in real-life, it’s making me sea-sick.
At our lunch break, I am exhausted, flustered and dissuaded by the whole experience. I ask if James wants to carry on, assuming he has struggled as much as me. Thankfully, the issues he had with Raul have not occured with Jenny, and so it’s actually him (and a big plate of food) that settles my nervous mind (and stomach), and decides to continue. Plus, when have we given up on anything before? We’re not going to start now. Two others who started that same morning don’t return. I feel a bit better realising it’s clearly been a tough few hours and it’s not me that’s the problem.
The afternoon continues with some more floundering under and above water, and my almost drowning myself trying to breathe only through my mouth and failing. All that nasal-breathing training we’ve been doing at Chasing Lights out the window! To my relief, we don’t practice the skills I suck at. On the one hand I’m grateful. On the other, I hope I never have to replace or swim with my mask off in real life, because it is a skill I definitely did not learn to do. We also appreciate that whilst learning all these skills was significantly harder with the buffeting waves, it will have made us better divers having practiced them out in the real environment.
After a grueling first day, our reward is another swim to the reef, much more controlled and calm this time compared to our baby-steps with Raul. The reef so alive and full of colour, completely unphased by our presence. No more headaches and nausea discussions, just the excitement at all the new things we’ve seen.
The next morning we spend out doing more open water practice and checking out the reef, seeing amazing life and creatures. My favourites are the starfish. There’s a thin, bright, blue one that limply wraps itself against the reef wall.
Then there’s the fat, chonky “granulated starfish”, like someone has inflated it with a pump:
As we return to shore, a turtle idly munches on some seaweed in the bay, as if to say, “see, it was all worth it, no?“
Jenny does a fantastic job at not just pointing out all the incredible life down here, but correcting us with many a finger wag and enforcing better habits. Despite the masks and regulators covering every inch of our faces, you can see the joy and excitement each time Jenny spots something to show us, as we respond with our new hand-signal… “Radical”:
Our certification is completed by two more open water dives off a boat this time. Which means taking a “giant stride” off the edge of it. I’ve been struggling to jump into water even into a pool in a bathing suit, so this is a hard one for me, in this huge amount of gear into the ocean deep. But when there’s everyone around you waiting, unknowing the fear-mongering thoughts in your head, there’s no time to give them credence, and so in we leap.
At two new reefs now we do some final practice, and then explore the new scenery. It’s just spectacular. Jenny does a great job capturing much of the life for us on the go-pro, but of course nothing can capture the real thing of just floating in the water and watching an alien world go about its business. We learn that almost everything down here is an animal, things that look like plants, are actually animals. There are these animals called Nudibranches, that are these amazingly colourful slug-like creatures. Here’s some stolen photos from Google to whet your appetite as we didn’t get photos of them ourselves:
These are animals! Not brightly splattered vases from an art class:
A feather starfish, not a plant!
There’s so much life down here that I never knew even existed, and I can understand why people get obsessed with the world down here. Jenny does a fantastic job taking photos for us to commemorate our final open water certification dives:
This is a nudibranch called Spanish Dancer, you can see why! (Definitely thought this was a plant):
We return to shore amid conversations of “did you see…?”, “how cool was…!”, before heading to lunch to do a quick bit of revision as our final exam is after lunch. The exam is less like an exam and more like a reminder of things we don’t know, as we complete it on our phones whilst discussing what the answers might be and tactically go through informing each other which is wrong based on who has the least wrong so far. We unsurprisingly pass.
And that’s that! Apparently we’re now trained enough to go diving just the two of us! Which seems like madness, and not something we have any desire to do. We celebrate with a final rum and coke watching the sun go down, a hearty meal at James’s favourite The Three Bears, and pack up for our next stop, the island of Palawan.
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Adventure – scootering into the mountains, exploring the underwater world
Excitement – seeing so many amazing new things and discovering a whole array of things I never knew existed on this planet
Trauma – almost drowning, roosters, from 3am til 6pm, damn all the roosters
For consistency more than anything, here’s the summary post, with special guest highlights.
Rule of Three
Highlights (Alex): Ridge hike, swimming with turtles, being with everyone again after so long and having a hug from mum.
Highlights (Dave): Snorkeling with turtles, meeting Alex and Jim after 6 months, Hawaiian food (finally portion sizes suitable for Dave)
Highlights (Diana): The surprise!, personal chats with James and Alex, dinner to celebrate the engagement (bonus fourth: getting to the top of Diamond Head)
Highlights (Heather): Pearl Harbour, snorkelling, sunset on the first night
Highlights (James): Missouri battleship, Japanese meal, Diamond Head hike
Highlights (Lottie): Turtles and whales, running a Hawaiian half marathon, hula show
Lowlights (Alex): Not being able to relax on arrival, losing everyone trying to find fireworks, seeing a man on the beach wearing a “I can’t hear you over the sound of my freedom” t-shirt and being all the more anxious for mainland USA.
Lowlights (James): Crappy accommodation on night one. Still hounded by angry hounds! Only one week with family.
Takeaways (Alex): there seems to be an island mentality (that the UK misses) of helping your neighbour/fellow community member just because it’s the right thing to do. Following that, people just helped us out without expecting a tip, and this was a welcome surprise after so many months of basically being demanded tips for everything and anything. There was so much more to World War 2 than just what happened in Europe, and there was grace, forgiveness and understanding amongst the pain inflicted, it’s a shame we seem to have forgotten so much that was learnt during that time.
Takeaways (James): Once again I wonder what Hawaii would be like if it had not been handed over (to put it nicely) to the USA. There is still an essence of native culture but it’s on the brink and secondary to the dominant American consumerism, there is an ABC store on every block! Sure it would not be as developed, accessible or popular but the world needs more hula and less battleships.
Description (Alex): Expensive, beautiful, bigger than I thought, (wild chickens EVERYWHERE)
Description (James): Beautiful yet built-up. Everything is a size up, from the portions to the houses and cars. Pricey but worth it.
Entertainment
Beef, Blown Away 4, Selling Sunset, Street Food: Asia, The Platform, The Office, Dumb Money, Moana, No Hard Feelings.
Where We Stayed
Waikiki Beachside Hostel: 2 ⭐️, if it wasn’t for the terrible quality beds, the facilities here were actually decent, with a good kitchen (in our room and shared), events, and right in the centre of town. Plonking 2 creaky, metal bunkbeds in the middle of a room does not make it a dorm and it was so expensive for what it was.
Airbnb: 5 ⭐️ Fantastic find by James, exactly as the photos, host was very helpful, everything we needed and more, quiet.
Cutting Room Floor
We kept seeing a flag with the Union Jack on it and wondered what was going on. It turns out that the flag of Hawaii actually features the Union Jack in the corner!
This is from when James Cook visited and presented the then King with the red ensign.
The luau we went to see featured many older women, showing off their amazing dance skills. It was beautiful to see older women honoured and revered, something we could take a lesson from in the western world.
After a few seconds of trying to dance like those in the luau, you realise these people must have legs of steel, it’s basically holding a squat the whole time. No wonder the older ladies were so mobile!
Our Uber driver told us about the Queen of Hawaii and how she wrote in her will that all hawaiians should have free health care, and when she goes to the Queens hospital she demands this as a native Hawaiian.
Some later reading on the history of Hawaii tells how Hawaii was actually the territory of the indigenous royal family, until the rich, white, immigrants from the UK and USA joined forces to take over and claimed the territory as their own, a bit like a coup. This was, a la Latin America, ‘to protect their assets‘ as they were all wealthy land owners and the Queen wanted to give power back to the people instead of them.
Supporters of the Queen were arrested and sentenced to death, unless the Queen gave up her rights. She could not live with the blood of those men on her hands and so she signed, but continued to protest the theft of her land.
After many decades under this ‘rule’, and the attack on Pearl Harbour, the Hawaiian Republican party was voted in and they sought statehood.
Hawaii was not a USA state when it was attacked by Japan.
There was no internment of the Japanese-American population like there was in the USA.
Nikkei means a Japanese emigrator and their descendents.
The USA added Hawaii and Alaska as states thinking they would balance each other out politically with Hawaii being more right-leaning and Alaska more left-leaning, but it’s been the other way around. Hawaii has voted Democrat in all but two elections.
The Clinton administration admitted that the territory was taken through illegal means and made a formal apology. But the territory, that was of the Queen and therefore her people, still remains that of the USA who is selling it to the highest bidders.
This all sounded very familiar to what I was told about Isla de Pascua/Easter Island when I was there over a decade ago, but with the Chilean government taking the land from the indigenous population.
The Uber driver tells us how it is actually foreigners who are the ones making the biggest stand for the indigenous population to rewrite the wrongs and get the land back to the rightful owners. They are the ones fighting for the rights of others.
I often see people critiquing privileged groups fighting for the rights of the less-priveleged, and whilst there is definitely cause for critique in some instances, that doesn’t mean the cause any less justified and for it to be written off.
She tells us about how the indigenous ethnicity and culture is being watered down by all the intermixing with immigrants (admitting she and her children doing the same), but this has been happening and encouraged for centuries.
I hope things like the cultural show we went to does something to keep the culture alive.
Although White Lotus makes me scared to see any cultural show ever!
Alcohol isn’t served with abundance on the beaches here, which is nice in a way. Although we did miss having a cocktail on the beach.
The youngsters learn the saying “don’t spoil ship for ha’p’orth of tar” from Dave. Tell us what you think it means in the comments 😉
It’s almost impossible to get around the island without a car, or spending hours on the public bus, unhelpfully called The Bus, which does nothing for Google searches.
There were a lot of similarities to Moana, mainly the wild chickens lol.
We only experienced a tiny part of one island! There’s still so much more to explore!
The Photos
A whole lotta luck in Houston getting us to the next flight:
A huge playing field with people playing all kinds of sports, wild chickens roaming around and hiding in trees, all with the built up town in the backdrop, and the ridges beyond them:
Sunsets:
How to remove a charred pineapple from a BBQ without oven gloves:
Manoa walk profile:
The roots that rightfully thwarted the marathon runners who thought better than to twist an ankle on these:
The wooden throne:
Pearl Harbour:
One for Hector and Sophie 😉:
Who needs refuse collectors when you have robot arms? This started our now-regular conversation of… what jobs are safe? Answers on a postcard:
Imagine living with Diamond Head at the end of your road, so cool:
Rainbows upon rainbows:
Mother Theresa on board:
The misadventures of Alex:
Some kind of Mysterio
Nature. Beauty, everywhere!:
The tiniest birds:
Run:
Night:
Inside the airport there is a beautiful open-air garden, featuring flora from Hawaii, China and Japan. It’s a lovely space amongst the usual noise and concrete of the airport:
The long journey from Cancun to Honolulu involves three connecting flights to get us across the USA and halfway over the Pacific Ocean. Our first stop is Houston where we join the infamous queue for immigration. With around a two hour gap between our flights I figure we’ve probably got enough time. 90 minutes later and we’re still queuing… how ridiculous. We clear customs with our next flight due to start boarding in five minutes.
A light jog is required as we need to pick up our hold baggage from the carousel and drop it off somewhere else. There are signs everywhere advising passengers to alert the authorities to any food that may bring pests into the US. We’re slightly nervous they’ll discover our ant-infested bacon sandwiches but we keep a cool demeanor as we rush past the customs officers and their sniffer dogs, luckily they’d had their breakfast. We reach the plane and we’re surprised to see the same cabin crew from our last flight. Not the same plane though, this one is much more modern with mood lighting, comfy seats and large monitors in the back of each headrest. On our way over the American desert we keep an eye out for the grand canyon, spot the snowy mountains of Colorado and fly directly over Las Vegas, getting a good view of the Luxor pyramid hotel my folks will be staying in after Hawaii. Hopefully we’ll be staying there in a few months time.
See if you can spot the pyramid:
Not much to report from rainy San Fran airport though we can sense we’re close to my family as they’re just down the coast in Los Angeles. The final flight is the longest at nearly six hours, unfortunately it’s back to basics and there is no in-flight entertainment here. We’re served our third round of cookies OR pretzels for the day and try to work out how long we’ve been travelling. Since leaving our Mexican Airbnb at 5am we’ve been on the go for over twenty one hours by the time we land in Honolulu!
Welcome to Waikiki
We take the bus to our one-night stay in the heart of Waikiki center. Exhausted and weary, we look forward to getting straight into bed the moment we get into our room. Of course in this backpacker life, nothing can be that simple. Upon entering our room we’re greeted by a half-naked seventy year old Vietnamese man who’s shouting on the phone to his nephew while trying to introduce himself to us at the same time. The room is a state and it looks like the two guys that have been staying in here have used it as their own for the last few days. “The other guy is called John, he’s been in the bathroom a while, oh you need to strip your bed as the last guy didn’t do it before he left. I usually wake up at 4am but I’ll try not to disturb you guys.” At this point the other room mate emerges from the bathroom in just a towel, plonks himself down on a chair and asks a few inquisitive questions. We make some small talk and explain how tired we are, climbing into our incredibly wobbly bunk beds that squeak each time you move. It could be worse, we could be bunked up with the American youths that are drinking on the street outside, hitting the hard seltzer and preparing to enjoy a night out on Spring Break. Oh what it was like to be young…
Reunited
Somehow we do manage a few hours of sleep before we’re awoken by our friend making his breakfast in the room at 5am and some people playing loud music on the balcony opposite. Unsure what to do with several hours to kill until our Airbnb check-in, we make our own breakfast downstairs and go for an explore of the local area. We scout out some areas to eat and get our first look at the Waikiki beaches. Returning to the hostel we’re relieved to see our Airbnb host has said we can check-in whenever we want! Upon checking out of our room, a voice from the toilet room wishes us luck on our journey, he must have been in there at least half an hour. What a weird experience!
We hike over to our Airbnb and immediately relax with the realisation it looks just like the photos, it’s blissfully quiet and there are no bizarre roommates disturbing the peace (yet). We’d love another nap but I’m full of nervous energy with my family arriving in a couple of hours, plus rumours of a special guest Alex knows nothing about. We do a quick shop in the expensive Safeway supermarket and try our first local Hawaiian dishes. Before we arrived we saw a programme talking about Poke Bowls, raw fish served with rice and vegetables. They live up to their reputation and we immediately look forward to our next bowl.
Back at the Airbnb and I’m like a kid waiting for Christmas. Not only are my family arriving in a few minutes (a mere six months since I last saw Ma and Pa) but Diana is also arriving and Alex once again has no idea, something I’ve known since Valentine’s Day. No more secrets or surprises after today, I can’t take the tension!
After a false alarm of the washing machine buzzing, there is a knock at the door and the sound of familiar voices. I open the door to three happy Collins’ and welcome them in with big hugs and ask them about their trip to LA. A few minutes later and the door goes again… Who could it be? We nominate Alex to answer it and all act like we’re clueless. “What the hell are you doing here?!” is the greeting of choice and we all laugh with relief that the surprise has finally been revealed.
With everyone together, it’s time to crack open a beer and do some long-overdue catching up.
We mention that we’re considering trying scuba diving in the Philippines and Dad tells us about how he learned to scuba dive in Wales. “Wales? That must have been cold, did you see anything interesting there?” we enquire, “Yeah… I saw a crab” comes the deadpan reply. Moving the conversation on we discuss social media with Mum who says she wants to try Instagram. I tell her to skip that and go straight to TikTok like all the other cool kids. “No, you need to twerk to be on TikTok” comes the reply. How I’ve missed their absurd and honest humour!
What else is there to do when Collins’ arrive but plan a trip to the supermarket? Disturbed by the cost of Safeway, Dad, Lottie and I take the longer trek up to the more budget friendly Times supermarket. After returning home I suggest we head to Waikiki beach to watch the sunset and give the folks a taste of what’s to come. It’s another incredible sunset and we take our first photos of the trip together. Alex has gone with Diana to check into her Airbnb back in town, a mere stones throw away from the hostel we stayed in last night. It later transpires that Diana originally booked her seven night stay in the same hostel, thank goodness she changed her mind and booked a much more relaxing, spacious and private Airbnb apartment!
We reunite on the sands and unfortunately the Barefoot Cafe I thought served beach-side cocktails only provides smoothies… It’s a blessing in disguise though as my family are getting pretty hungry having only been served a small biscuit on their flight across from LA.
Back at home, Dad and I cook up a spaghetti bolognese while Mum prepares a side salad and the girls make a delicious rum punch. We enjoy a family dinner outside on the private terrace before crashing into bed around 9pm, it’s fair to say jet lag has hit us all hard.
Aloha Hawaii
The next morning we’re all wide awake by 5am as our bodies adjust to the new timezone. We have an easy morning and then head to a local hula show Alex has found online. None of us have any idea what to expect but were pleasantly surprised to witness a traditional Hawaiian show with brilliant local performers, relaxing music and some audience participation! Diana, Heather and Alex are nominated to represent our group and give the dance moves a go and even manage to stay in sync once or twice.
Once the show has finished, we walk a few meters up the road to Waikiki beachfront. We settle on an patch of sand between all of the tourists, soak up the warm sun and take our first dip in the Pacific ocean. Dad and I give body boarding a go but it seems that the surf schools have taken up all of the good spots! Still we appreciate being in the cool water and look back on the giant palms lining the golden sand at the edge of a city almost spilling into the ocean.
Diana and Alex head up the beach to check out the hotel Diana stayed in more than 50 years ago, when she came to Hawaii with her parents! Not much has changed of the hotel, but all around it the skyline of course has:
After a while on the beach we divide forces and I head back to the Airbnb to introduce my folks to poke bowls while Alex and Diana have an afternoon catching up. We regroup in the evening at a local cocktail bar serving Mai Tai and a Pina Colada copy-cat in their happy hour offering. Perfect.
Diana has kindly invited us to dinner at a modern Asian-fusion restaurant. We have a great table by the window overlooking the setting sun and order a bottle of cold champagne. We toast to our recent engagement and everybody being together halfway across the world. The food is incredible and thanks to American portion sizes everyone is well fed. Diana has informed them it’s a celebration meal and Alex and I are presented with a special dessert to mark the occasion. It’s one amazing meal that is definitely a highlight of the whole trip so far.
It seems the Brits brought some rain with them as we end up caught in a rain shower on the way home, using a beach-mat for protection:
Chasing Rainbows
With the daunting challenge of a marathon on the horizon for Dad and Lottie in just a few weeks, it’s time for a training run. There is a road that circles around the monumental Diamond Head volcano and down into the beach zone. We end up doing an out and back route that takes around one and a half hours before the warmth gets a bit much and we dive into a mini mart for refreshments. During the run there’s a mixture of sunshine and drizzle resulting in a beautiful rainbow glowing in the skies above the ocean.
Pearl Harbour
Time for a bit of history and culture. Today we’re off to Pearl Harbour, to check out the USS Missouri battleship, and visit the USS Arizona Memorial. The information starts on the bus ride onto the military island, with a jolly driver telling us all about how to pronounce Hawaii (Hav-ay-ee) and cracking jokes. A brief pop culture side-note, Bruno Mars is from Hawaii and was spotted as a five year old for doing an Elvis impersonation. Fast forward to 2019 and he played the final concert at the imposing baseball stadium on the island that has not been used post-Covid. As a nice touch he offered discounted tickets to locals as a way to give back to the local community. Though he may be craving that money now that he’s $50m in debt to MGM casinos if rumours are to be believed!
Pulling up to USS Missouri it’s hard to not be impressed by the huge metallic behemoth infront of us. We’ve not been to the one in London yet, but just from Thameside, it is tiny by comparison. Originally commissioned in 1941 it should have taken 6 years to build but was impressively built in just 3 after the Pearl Harbour attack brought America into the World War.
We get a free tour of the deck, giving us facts and figures about the huge power and destruction the gun turrets here wield. These turrets can fire misses at twice the speed of sound with a range of over 1000 miles and a margin of error of only 5 feet. At one point, advising one turret is equal to the weight of a space shuttle. I’m pretty bad with figuring out how much things weigh even when talking about a 1 kilo bag of pasta, so comparing anything to an object I can’t figure out if it weighs more or less than I would imagine does nothing to help contextualize them here. The impressive nods of everyone around me indicate a space shuttle is pretty heavy and therefore so must these things. The huge power of these turrets also clearly impresses many around us. For me, it just makes me rather sad, I can’t divorce the lives and destruction that accompany such fire-power.
Thankfully, the next stop of the tour is to educate us about the signing of the Japanese surrender that occured right on this very deck. Having learnt and been exposed so much more to European WWII history, it’s fascinating to learn that WWII actually ended here with that surrender. Which I guess is why we have VE day and VJ day. The guide makes a point that the speech made at this point is not about vengeance, but about peace. I do find it somewhat ironic that they mention the damage the Japanese did and omit the huge devastation commited by nuclear weapons… but something is better than nothing. Two generals stood behind General McArthur as witnesses to the signing, they were prisoners of war and were given a signing pen each. They were visibility emaciated from their time in the brutal Japanese prisoner of war camps where the estimated lifespan of a captive was 2-6 months, these chaps somehow survived there for 3 years. The peace treaty was signed with 250 allied ships pointing their guns at the USS Missouri, the ship itself bow to bow with the sunken USS Arizona, meaning the start and end of the US involvement in WW2 occured in the same location. At 9.25am the end of World War 2 was declared with General McArthur stating “Let us pray that peace is resorted to the world and that God may preserve it always”. A moving plea that sadly seems to remain unanswered.
The final stop is another somber one, the location of an attack by a Japanese suicide bomber from the infamous Kamikaze squadrons. Kamikaze being Japanese for “Divine Win” meant it was seen as an honourable feat for the men, mostly teenage boys, before hurtling themselves into enemy ships on a one way mission. Letters are shared here of the pilots to their families, and future children, left behind, knowing they would definitely never see them again. Tragic. The site of this attack by a nineteen year old pilot barely left a dent in the side of the ship. What was left of the pilot was given a proper sea burial as ordered by captain Callahan. An honourable move instructed by Callahan himself against some more vengeful crew, as he believed once men are dead they no longer serve any country or God, and all should be given a respectable burial.
After the tour ends we are allowed into the bowels of the beast and I’ll let the pictures do the talking here.
“better than some of the accommodation we’ve stayed in” was Alex’s poignant comment here.
Returning to the mainland we listen to the moving words of an emotional Navy Ranger who recounts the events of one of the biggest and most famous attacks in world history. Despite some unrest between the nations of the Allied friendly Americans and the ambitious Imperial Japan, no one in the Western world saw this attack coming. Even when a radar operator raised the alarm of unchartered aircraft approaching the area it was falsely dismissed as friendly aircraft on their way from California. This and other errors lead to the Japanese being able to cause incomprehensible destruction of the US Navy. 353 Japanese bombers struck unchallenged, sinking four of the eight US battleships stationed, damaging the other four. Countless other ships were damaged or destroyed and over two thousand, four hundred people were killed in the devastating attack.
We take a short boat ride across Battleship Row to the watery grave of the USS Arizona. The only battleship that was sunk and never retrieved to fight back. The rusted remains piercing the waters surface give some indication of the raw power required to sink a ship this size and what it must have been like on the day when the armour piercing round struck the armoury and ignited an explosion that was powerful enough to split the ship in two. We board the floating gravesite and view a memorial wall dedicated to the hundreds of men and women who lost their lives in an instant on that fateful day.
On our return we get to watch a brief film that explains the history of the war in this part of the world, how and why Japan attacked (to prevent the USA defending the islands and resources Japan hoped to conquer next). Once more, the ‘reasons’ seem all too familiar, pathetic, and as though leaders of the world have learnt nothing from the past at the cost of so many human lives.
After the experience of Pearl Harbour we return to town and head out to buy a local specialty recommended by our friendly Uber driver, a sweet treat called malasada. They’re essentially sugar-coated fried donuts with various fillings, we order half a dozen and return home to try them out with our macadamia ice cream. Delicious.
Dad kindly cooks up salmon and potatoes for the evening meal, much to Alex’s delight as she’s suffered a potato famine recently.
Rain rain go away
Now that we’ve covered the famous military base on the island, it’s time for something completely different, a hike in the green tree-covered mountains. Manoa Falls is our target, an easy one mile hike to the impressive waterfall and back again. It’s much more damp in this part of the island and our rain jackets come in very handy as there are a few downpours on the short muddy trek.
After a few photos at the top, some of our group carries on along a different trek while the Mums return to base camp for a coffee. Alex powers ahead in her Vivo hiking boots, making short work of the slippery trail. Dad, Lottie and I make it to a part of the path completely covered in slimy tree roots and decide that’s enough for today and turn back.
Alex soon catches us up and we all bound home ready for some lunch.
We request the Uber drops us off in an area near our Airbnb with a handful of cafes and takeaways. We disperse and swarm the various eateries all craving different cuisine. Meeting back at the Airbnb we all enjoy lunch with some of the islands tasty beers. After which I finally get to show Dad the shuffling and card tricks I’ve been working on for months. He seems mildly impressed.
In the afternoon we head back towards the coast but this time we try a new beach adjacent to a local war memorial and quieter than the packed Waikiki beaches. Typically the weather is not on our side and the gentle drizzle turns into a heavier downpour. There’s brief respites of sun but they don’t last long before it starts to rain on us again. The girls sensibly head to the shops instead. Meanwhile dad and I figure that if we’re going to be wet anyway we might as well get into the sea. The ocean water definitely seems warmer than the air but by this point most of the beach goers have left, it’s probably best we do the same before we catch a cold.
For our evening meal we order takeaway Chinese and Dad challenges Alex and I to a Mr and Mrs quiz based on our travels so far. It’s a great way to reflect on parts of our epic journey and share some memories and stories with everyone present.
Pensioner Peak
Today is a big milestone for one member of our party, David Collins turns 65 years old today! What better way to celebrate than hiking up a volcano? That’s what we’ve volunteered him for anyway. He’s full of beans and we march up to the starting point of the 1.6 mile ascent to the peak of Diamond Head. The trail up is busy but enjoyable with a couple of viewpoints every so often. One of these looks out to the Eastern edge of the island where another volcano dominates the sky, Koko Head.
An information board explains Diamond Head has had various uses over the years, from a naval lookout for enemy ships to a training center for soldiers during the Cold War. Despite the beauty of this island there is a heavy presence of America’s military might lurking beneath the surface. Reaching the summit, the more able bodied amongst us clamber down into the gun battery viewpoint to see what the view was like for lookouts of times gone by.
We soon join the rest of the gang at the top where tourists swarm to get a good photo, photo bomb our group or ask us to take photos of them. We take what precious photos we can before quickly escaping the bedlam and descending back down the hill.
In the afternoon we return once more to the quiet beach from yesterday but this time there is only a small patch of drizzle and much more sunshine. We play frisbee in the waves and despite being only one year away from collecting his state pension, Dad still dives through the waves and jumps for the frisbee like the goalkeeper he was when he was a teenager.
Happy Birthday to this wonderful and inspiring person 🥳
In the evening, Alex, Dad and I hike all the way up to Times supermarket and return with bountiful supplies for a Birthday BBQ! We enjoy steak, sausage and sweetcorn cooked on the barbie with side helpings of salad, hummus and potatoes. For desert, one of dad’s favourites… warm apple crumble and ice cream. The wine flows freely and as always Lottie is on hand to provide perfect music for the occasion. Returning inside, we fancy a game and form teams to face the Andover Fist Quiz. Lottie and Alex are the winning team this time, not letting the Birthday Boy win!
A pineapple is inexplicably placed on the BBQ and left to char until we realise no-one knows what to do with it, and Lottie and Dad have to roll it off with tongs and a pan:
Turtle Canyon
Alex has wanted to see turtles since we were in Mexico and bypassed the chance to see them. When she reads there is a place called Turtle Canyon just off the coast of Waikiki it’s a great opportunity for everyone to see them! We board the catamaran at Waikiki beach and set sail for a quick journey to the diving spot. On the way there, the captain points out a turtle popping its head out of the water to get some air. This is looking promising!
After a detailed safety briefing we’re in the water and on the hunt for green shells. For the first ten minutes there are a lot of pretty fish but none of the game we’re looking for. That soon changes when a herd of snorkelling tourists all head in the same direction. We catch them up and witness two huge sea turtles gracefully gliding through their underwater world.
With the mums back on the boat before the rest of us, they get a great view of a humpback whale passing by behind the boat.
After the boat trip we have lunch at the Barefoot Cafe that’s come highly recommended. A mix of burgers and poke bowls does not disappoint and I try the local specialty of shaved ice. It’s basically a glorified slushy but you have to try these things while you’re here.
We have a relaxed afternoon at the Airbnb and introduce Diana to the game of Yahtzee. Beginners luck must be a real thing as she manages to roll a double Yahtzee and wins the game with ease!
In the evening we go for drinks at a local brewhouse as Lottie kindly treats us to a round of craft beers and cocktails. During the drinks Alex, Lottie and I head out to the beach to try and catch the weekly fireworks show. We’re advised to head down surfboard alley and just wait on the beach there with all the other people. It’s unclear why but the fireworks show only seems to last a couple of minutes rather than the expected ten and most people on the beach, including us, see nothing more than a reflection of the fireworks in the night sky and a couple of bangs from behind a big hotel. Fail.
We return to the brewery to finish our drinks then head for dinner at the same place we had cocktails the other night. Dad treats everyone to dinner and we enjoy all sorts of tasty food.
A hike and a half
Our final full day in Hawaii and Lottie is up early to sneak another run in. Having been gone for a couple of hours we’re slightly concerned she may have got lost in the mazy grid system but as I step out onto the street to look for her she runs past in her iconic rainbow print leggings. She returns back towards the house looking fresh and well and informs us she has just run a half marathon distance. Fantastic.
My folks would prefer to stay local today and not over exert themselves before their trip to Las Vegas. Alex, however, wants to get onto one of Hawaii’s famous ridges, so makes plans to head to Kuli’ou’ou Summit and walk the trail there. She walks to the bus stop with her Mum where they’ll part ways until Canada as Diana is flying home from Hawaii today.
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To interject with my little escapade, I manage to get lost and do the Valley walk before reaching the end and having to turn back for the Ridge walk. James would call me a completionist and say it was intentional. The valley route is amazing. So full of lush greenery with ferns of all types around me. The ridge ascend beautiful in its own way as the flora changes with the incline. The floor becomes full of pine needles, as pine trees line the path.
The path then goes almost straight up as the roots of the trees provide ‘steps’:
The ascent finally finishes at the summit, part of the endless island-crossing Ridge. The weather suddenly becomes a lot cooler as I try and brace against the gusting wind, taking in the phenomenal views around or greenery and luminous seas, marvelling at where I’ve just come from. Just what I was hoping for.
With a bus only once an hour, I poorly calculate that I can make it down in time for the next one. It doesn’t take long to realise I’ll actually probably be waiting half an hour for the next one… unless… time to put my Vivos to the test again. The run down is fairly easy and fun, save a few hold-yer-breath moments. Maybe I could enjoy fell running after all! Rushing passed fellow walkers shouting “sorry, thanks, running for a bus” as they let me through, I just make it to the bus in time and the same driver who picked me up on the way out.
My first adventure on this journey sans James and Internet, both missed but a challenge proudly accomplished. Back to James.
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As Lottie needs a bit of time to shower, eat brekkie and recover from her run, Mum and I make tracks to another beach we haven’t been to yet. On the way there we have a good heart-to-heart and catch up just the two of us. In a strange turn of events we witness someone solemnly releasing ashes into the sea, although Mum at first thinks it’s a big bag of cocaine 😂
Dad and Lottie soon join us and we spend around an hour cooking in the sun before heading for some lunch. Today I try South Side Grill, a well-known food joint that apparently Barack Obama once visited. I’m surprised to see they serve poutine (fries, cheese and gravy, get over it, it’s delicious) and immediately inform Alex. She soon arrives back at the Airbnb with a large portion, as expected!
For our final evening together we’re having Alex’s ‘favourite’ travel food, tuna pasta bake! Although this time it’s cooked for her and with decent quality ingredients rather than the cat food-like tuna we’ve suffered in Latin America. There is quite a bit of booze to finish off and no one really wants to go to bed as it will mean the end of the trip!
The Journey Continues
Alex convinced me to get up and wave my folks off at 4am and it was definitely the right thing to do. I help them order an Uber and send them on their way, I’ll see them again in a few months time back in Blighty.
Back to just the two travellers then. We’ve got another long journey ahead of us as we continue the adventures in South East Asia…
Mahalo
Thank you Dave, Heather, Lottie and Diana for travelling all the way to Hawaii to see us. We really appreciate everything you’ve done and continue to do for us that has made this journey possible. Having Hawaii to look forward to helped cope with the home sickness and it was a joy to share a special part of our odyssey with you wonderful people. Lots of love and hugs from James and Alex ❤️
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Adventure – exploring walks, runs, military vessels and underwater canyons
Excitement – everyone arriving, surprise desserts, finding poutine, seeing wildlife in its habitat, being able to drink tap water, being able to communicate in English, being able to flush toilet paper
Trauma – arriving exhausted and having to make conversation, being awoken by neighbours carrying on the party on our first night, more damn dogs, Safeway prices, fireworks fail
It’s time to say goodbye to Latin America! We can hardly believe (or Belize 😉) all that we’ve done so far. We’ve also now tipped over the half-way point of our total travels, meaning we have more days behind us than ahead of us. Which is daunting and exciting all at once.
But first, we had a few more days left in Mexico after Hector and Sophie left us until our flight out to Hawaii. Initially I wanted to go somewhere else and have a final injection of Latin-life, but six months on the road has made us tired, and yet another bus journey would eat into the budget. Plus, we know we’re going back to Peru, so this is by no means farewell to Latin America forever.
Our final days were spent splashing about in a pool, walking to and from Walmart, checking out an incredible Catholic sanctuary more akin to a Buddhist refuge, almost burning down our Airbnb host’s apartment, planning Asia, and enjoying a final Mexican meal.
In terms of how we’ve found Mexico itself… Well, I don’t feel like we’ve really gotten to experience ‘Mexico‘, and this was a bit of a planning faux pas on my part. But decisions had to be made all those months ago, and I’d heard only amazing things about the Yucatan Peninsula.
The Yucatan Peninsula certainly seems to be a beast unto itself, and sure, there’s loads of Mexican food and people, but it’s all felt incredibly manufactured for tourism. On the other hand, that has made this bit really quite easy, so many people speak English, a range of public and private transport exists depending on your budget, and we have felt incredibly safe. It’s definitely felt more like holidaying than backpacking. We’ve also gotten to learn a lot more about the maya civilisation and culture, experience varying places mimicking paradise, and enjoy some cooler climes thanks to the coastline.
This has certainly been the most developed part of Central America, and we seem to be here at the beginning of the next huge wave of tourism, thanks to the development of a few new trainlines. Tren Maya to connect up Cancun with the rest of the country, but also one spanning from the Atlantic coastline to the Pacific, to compete with (or complement, according to some people) the Panama Canal. These developments are controversial, lots of natural forest has to be destroyed, as scar-like lines are cut through it. Indigenous communities and animals are also being displaced and their habitats threatened. On the one-hand, it’s an incredible feat of engineering and infrastructure done in such a short time. On the other, there’s a cost to pushing that through, and not just a financial one. As Sophie pointed out, these things stop in our countries because of rules and regulations to protect people, land and nature. Would we prefer our governments to just bulldoze developments through?
So, Mexico is probably somewhere we’d need to come back to. We can see why so many people come here on holiday and cannot blame them at all. I honestly didn’t realise beaches like this existed at all, let alone here, and if you’re on holiday and not short of money, there’s plenty of options to have a whale of a time.
Rule of Three
Highlights (Alex): the boat trip in Bacalar, absolutely gorgeous. Welcoming Hector and Sophie with tequilas and having their company for five days. Chilling out in Tulum
Highlights (James): Tulum ruins and cycling around the area, Bacalar boat cruise, spending time with Hector and Sophie
Lowlights (Alex): Chichen Itza being over-run by sales people and stalls, being scalded for not giving a big enough tip for an already expensive tour, entry chaos at Tulum
Lowlights (James): Dogs rudely interrupting my jogging, aggressive hawkers in Chichen Itza, entry/exit fee confusion
Takeaways (Alex): it’s possible to do all these expensive touristy places on a budget, and paying more at an all-inclusive doesn’t guarantee a better time.
Takeaways (James): As with Colombia, Mexico has a reputation of being dangerous and run by cartel gangs, while there are certainly parts of the country like that, you shouldn’t consider the entire country to be like that. Whether it’s the influence of American tourism or not, there is definitely a focus on consumption and convenience, anything you want, for a price of course.
Description (James): great holiday destination (didn’t feel like backpacking), sea, sun and sand, tasty food
Entertainment
TV & Film: Justified: City Primeval, Goodbye Christopher Robin, Coco
Books: Red Dragon
Where We Stayed
Airbnb (Bacalar): 4.5 ⭐️ great space, very quiet, calm and private, missing a few things in the kitchen but otherwise very comfortable here.
Airbnb (Tulum): 4.5 ⭐️ wonderful design and amazing bed and bathroom. Unfortunatelt surprise view of building, teeny tiny kitchenette and no heating element on the pool dragged this one down a bit, but everything else was spectacular. Also, free bikes.
Airbnb (Central Cancun): 4 ⭐️, good space, nice pool, amazing huge bed (for us), but needed a bit more care and attention to really make it shine, that cupboard smell will haunt me
Airbnb (outer Cancun): 5 ⭐️, wonderful host couple, felt very comfortable here, lovely design, pool to ourselves
Airbnb (bus Cancun): 2 ⭐️, you get what you pay for, basic accom but proximity to loud music keeping me awake all night, and someone remoting into out TV at 3am lost any stars for convenience of location. Of course, James slept through it all!
Cutting Room Floor
Chatting with Misse, the young Swedish lad who crossed the border with us into Bacalar, told us his ultimate tactic to save money… he would just have the free hostel breakfast and one other meal each day, either skipping lunch or dinner.
Compared to us, where if we miss just one meal, we get so hangry that our relationship is more important than our budget!
An older Canadian gent who has been ‘travelling’ for the past twenty years tells us that parts of the Mexican states were carved up to make Quintana Roo, the ‘new’ region of the Yucatan Peninsula we’ve journeyed through.
This being invested in to make a place for tourists from the USA who would have gone to Cuba, but had to stop because of the cold war
Meeting yet another person who got salmonella on their travels, and being very grateful that we have each other to lean on. Not just when poorly, but also when just needing a rest, it really is so much easier travelling as a pair. Huge respect to all the solo travellers out there keeping on, especially the women, they’re far more capable than I was when I tried the solo travel thing 13 years ago.
The 1 star Google review of an all-inclusive resort saying “essentially we paid thousands of dollars for food poisoning and volleyball”.
Mexico has the second highest population of Catholics in the world. Brasil has the highest.
Similar to those in Peru and Bolivia, communities now practice a combined religion that melts together traditional Maya practices with Catholic ones.
Tombs are painted in wonderful bright colours because they celebrate the dead here. They go to pray to the people that die. After a week you go to the grave, you go and pray and do the rosary, every month for a year you do the same, then you make it like a home at the year mark, and you do that every year. Then at each Day of the Dead they make it like an altar, and everyone honours the dead at the same time each year.
Day of the Dead (which I learnt most about from Coco, thanks Disney), seems like a wonderful tradition, to talk about and remember those that we’ve lost, keeping their memories alive and passing them down through the generations. I wish we talked more about those no longer with us.
Cancun means Snake Nest in Maya, we didn’t see any though.
The Spaniards gave everyone Catholic first names, so you get a lot of Joses, Marias and Guadalupes, but the indigenous maya retain their surnames, so you’ll typically get a mix of a Catholic first name with a maya surname meaning Jaguar or some kind of animal.
Chichen Itza is built at the intersection of four cenotes, but there are 60 around it in this area.
Each side of the main kukulkan temple has 91 steps, with one side having just one extra. Add all the steps on all sides, you get 365.
The temple is oriented to the points on the compass.
Kukulkan means snake with feathers, kukul = feather, kan = snake (as in cancun).
Similar to Tulum, clapping here creates an echo that sounds like the quetzal. This is caused by the specific height and angle of the steps.
This whole area was a ceremonial one, people didn’t live here, they lived around it, and certain ones would come for ceremonies and games of pok a tok.
As elsewhere, the temples are not hollow.
They engineered drainage to stop the pooling of water in the large congregation platforms.
Mayas had an obsession with water and time. They are called masters of time. They had a precise control of agriculture, by being in contact with the universe and having an exact understanding of the calendar.
Uayeb is five days in August that makes up the 365 days of the year alongside 20-day-long months. Uayeb was typically an unlucky period, bad things would happen in these days. Uay = bad, Ep = spirit.
Their circular calendar (see photo below) shows the months, and also numbers in dot form, including zero, which is a big deal for reasons I forget. They also have a further calendar on top of this for years and multiple years, which ended in 2012, and why many people thought the world would end that year.
Many congregated at Chichen Itza on the predicted end of the calendar date in 2012, and rather than the world ending, they saw a bunch of planets aligning. This alignment only happens every 5525 years. It is a mystery how they knew this.
Time rules everything. The day and month you were born is what you are good for. The day you were born, and the day you realise why you were born, are the two big days of your life. We check out our maya months and predictions (akin to horoscopes), Hector’s is the only one that really fits.
The whole yucatan peninsula is on a limestone platform. It’s perfect for non-machine agriculture, but not great for the machines.
Tourists here are half Mexicans, half foreigners, according to our host. This is a better ratio than a lot of tourist areas we’ve been to.
Our host works in interior decoration and said that the quality of goods imported from China far surpassed that of anything made in Mexico, so he imported everything.
The story of Mary, Untier of Knots, which is totally random but I quite like it. The grandfather of the donor of the painting was having marital issues and sought help from a priest. The priest prayed “In this religious act, I raise the bonds of matrimony, to untie all knots and smoothen them” and the knots of the marriage were undone. I like to think of this like a masseuse massaging a knot in your muscle to release it, but using religion to work through the knots in your life, through faith and hope.
The Photos
Farewell night to our beautiful freezing plunge pool:
Boating:
So many cute seashells:
One of the maya calendars:
Tequila is made from blue agave, pictured here, whilst mezcal is made from a mix of agaves:
Chichen Itza:
Cenote:
Sophie trying to dodge the whacky wavy inflatable tube… [insert what you think it is here]:
A beautiful bird singing to us outside the window:
Someone leaving a ribbon at the Sanctuary for Mary to help Taylor Swift untie the “knots” of her life:
This worker, who turned on this huge spinning disc of destruction, standing right in the firing line as it spins around. No health & safety here!
I love Crunch chocolate, and so finding an array of no less than six different ice creams from it was like a dream:
You can literally buy everything and anything in walmart!:
Art?:
James is going to miss having six different kinds of hot sauce:
