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for Sunday Scribblings

When I was younger, I had an enormous explorer style world map above my bed. It was the source of both my dreams and nightmares, as there was this whole world of possibilities open to me, and all I had to do was make a choice. Contradictorily, all I had to do was make a choice.

It is difficult even for people who know me well to decide if my indecisiveness makes me easy-going or just too passive. I often prefer others to make choices for me when both options seem desirable. I can’t bear to be blamed if things don’t go well, and I sincerely want both, so how I could I possibly choose only one? On a solo trip to the Philippines though, I had no choice, but to choose.

I arrived in Manila with lots of ideas. There were places in every direction that I wanted to visit. There were buses, boats and planes, lakes, volcanoes and about 7000 islands. I stared at the map in my guidebook, stymied. Ready to close my eyes and go where my finger landed, I finally made my decision by choosing the location of the next festival. When boats and plane tickets were sold out for my first choice, I settled on the Dinagyang Festival in Iloilo, Panay. Dinagyang means merry-making in Ilonggo. It is a religious and cultural celebration and involves a lot of drumming with dancers painted black, wearing elaborate colorful costumes. It is loud, hot and crowded, and like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Large groups arrive from all over the country to participate on the fourth weekend of January every year.  

I arrived in the evening, a week early, and watched the preparations. Stalls were set up selling glass bottles of coke and San Miguel, and barbequed fish. There were speakers piled upon and speakers, nearly toppling over, and students practicing drum routines in the streets. I decided to spend the week on the island of Guimaras, home of the juiciest mangos in the Philippines, and return when the festival was in full swing.

Guimaras is just a short boat ride from Iloilo. My first stop was Valle Verde Mountain Resort, in the center of the island. From there I took steamy walks through the villages with a local guide and a grumpy old foreign man. He was slowly going blind, and waiting for the construction of his house nearby to be completed. I familiarized myself with jeepney etiquette, visited a monastery in an orchard, and cooled my feet in the pool, staring at the emerald mountains surrounding me; sticky mango peels piling up beside me.

But soon I longed for the beach, so reluctantly I left Valle Verde and ended up at Rico Beach resort in Alubihod, Guimaras. This is an older style resort, the kind favored by day-tripping picnickers. The restaurant served only portions of seafood big enough for whole families. It got very noisy. Watching all the families enjoying each others’ company made me lonely and only further reminded me of how out of place I felt. The Philippines is not a place to be alone. Throughout my journey people questioned me about my lack of companionship, astounded that I would travel alone.

Rico wasn’t the sort of resort I had in mind, so when I was invited on a boat ride, touring around to other beaches and a turtle sanctuary, I gladly took it. This is when I first stepped on Baras Beach. Baras Beach Resort was what I had in mind. I spent my days snorkeling, paddling a canoe and exploring this tiny beach, or soaking up the afternoon sunlight on my private cliff, waiting anxiously to be called to dinner, as the smell of it wafted up to my bungalow. Evenings were spent eating creamy seafood curries, communal style, and sipping Tanduay rum.

What made this spot so special to me wasn’t the views and fresh fish. This was only to be the first of many similar experiences on my four-month trip around the country. On the third day, the other tourists left, and as I watched a new boat arrive, and about 35 members of an extended family disembark with their own beer and food, I feared I was in for more of my Rico Beach experience. Instead, this lively and expansive family invited me to join them in their reunion.  Each year one of the daughters in this family, married to a Swiss man, returns with her husband and children to treat everyone to a memorable day out.  This family treated me as one of their own, and summoned me to all their activities including drinking games and a drag fashion show using life saving equipment. In the morning, the matriarch of the family wished me well, hoping we’d write to each other.

The best part of travelling in the Philippines is that most people speak English fluently, and because of it, conversations and real exchanges of culture, like these I shared at Baras Beach, were the most cherished mementos I took from my vacation.

Slow Down

Gili Meno 

photo: Cobus Botes

Over the years, I have been lucky enough to visit many pockets of Indonesia. From Bali, vibrant with color, dance and indulgences, to Sumatra with its clove infused tea, reckless reefs, and great Batak houses, as well as to Sulawesi with its sea gypsies, coral gardens, and lonely islands.  While these locales offer adventure and intriguing encounters, none compare for me to Lombok’s Gili Meno, because what this place lacks in culture and curiosities, it makes up for in quiet relaxing community.

The Gilis, comprised of three small islands: Meno, Trawangan and Air, in northern Lombok aren’t off the beaten track. They are easily reached from Padangbai Harbor in Bali, with either a fast or slow boat to Sengigi or Bangsai on Lombok, with easy minibus connections or smaller boats taking you directly to the island of your choice. You could even fly to Lombok’s Mataram Airport as well. Once on Meno though, the only transportation you will find are small horse-drawn carts called cidomos, and bicycles.

photo: Cobus Botes

This is where life slows down. Often on vacations one tends to do as much and  see as many sights as possible. It makes sense; when so much time and money is put into something that might only happen for two weeks a year or even a lifetime. On Meno though you won’t have much choice. Here your days are filled with swimming, reading in your hammock and exchanging pleasantries with locals along the path on your way to a fruit shake.

photo: Cobus Botes

Our two favorite pastimes while there were snorkeling and walking around the island. There are many places to wade in and survey the undersea world, around the island. We often set off in the mornings, stopping wherever it looked easy to get in. Once we’d had our fill we might stop at a resort for a drink or meal, and continue on into the afternoon. A favorite spot was an area famous for its turtles and mild current that pushes you along so you don’t even have to kick.

photo: Cobus Botes

We also took great pleasure from exploring the many abandoned resorts around the island. Here the jungle has begun to reclaim the land, and the gardens, full of fragrant frangipani and glowing bougainvillea, once tended carefully, now cover every bit of free space. There are brightly mosaicked swimming pools cracked and drained. Exploring here makes you feel like you’re in modern tropical version of Angkor Wat.

Another day was spent on Gili Trawangan, the biggest and liveliest of the three islands. Here we could drink proper coffee, rent bicycles to explore the island, use the ATM, and have a beer at a floating bar.

photo: Cobus Botes

Back on Meno, every sunset and sunrise stunned us from our two-story bungalow at the Southern end of the main beach. We stayed at Biru Meno Resort for about $35 US a night, which included a small breakfast and a cold fresh-water shower. Our German/Indonesian hosts made us feel welcome, and brought many cups of ginger tea and cool Bintangs to our very secluded and airy coral cottage.

There are many places to eat on the main beach. Seating is often in private gazebos with ocean views. We ate local favorites like fried rice with prawn crackers, peanutty gado-gado, and fresh barbequed fish. We often spoiled ourselves with surprisingly very good pizzas and calzones as many of the restaurants have wood-burning ovens.

For more information on the Gilis, visit Lombok Network

Bring:

Snorkeling gear can be rented from dive shops, but having your own saves money and you can be assured of the quality. It also means you’ll be more likely to get it the water often, and instead of packing all your snorkeling into one day you can easily grab your fins and mask and hop in for a quick tour around whenever you feel like it.

A dry bag proved invaluable to us. These aren’t expensive, and it meant we never had to backtrack when snorkeling. We could bring money, flip-flops, sunscreen and a sarong, and instead of worrying about our things on an empty beach, we just towed it along with us and got out wherever when we were tired or cold. The flip-flops are especially important if your fins are booty-less, as getting in and out of rocky spots at low tide can be tricky.

What we should have brought was a few bottles of wine from Bali. It is much cheaper there, and the selection greater. You can get tired of beer, and as good as the food was, we had some awful cocktails while on Meno.

Mosquito repellant and coils can be bought on the island, but if you have a favorite kind, you may want to bring with. Long pants are definitely recommended for dusk. Flies can also be a problem during the day, at the restaurants. We made our peace with these minor disturbances early on luckily. We have also heard stories of malaria in the area. You should check what current conditions are before you go. We decided against malaria medication, and were not affected at all.

My Muse

photo: Cobus Botes

for Sunday Scribblings
Today I had a beautiful Sunday. It was a day of whales. Currently I’m living on the Western cape of South Africa, where in the winter, Southern Right whales frequent these waters for breeding before heading further south for the summer. Today started with a neighbor telling us to come quick and see the whale he spotted near our home. Later, we took a drive to windy Herald’s Bay, and saw more whales from the cliffs above. One dramatically breached a few times for us. Then we took a walk on the beach, and had a nice lunch at a restaurant overlooking the bay. I loved this day. It is exactly how I wanted to spend my day, and yet I never gave a single thought to any of it ahead of time. What I loved even more was that it was my husband that made the decision to take this drive. He so often either knows instinctively or wants as well what I didn’t even know I wanted. It is truly a wonderful thing to be with someone who enjoys doing so many of the things that you like doing.

We both came into this relationship loving nature, and we have been feeding off of each other’s connection to it ever since. This love (actually need) to be outside has become even stronger as the two of us are more and more compelled to breathe fresh air and feel sun on our faces, together. For this, and many other reasons, I love him more each day, even if it sounds like a cliché. 

My husband is a very creative person. He is trained in design and technology, and especially loves working with wood. He has worked on many projects recently, from an Indonesian island style upright base to an archway for our wedding. He’s taught himself to play guitar and records his own songs, built a website, and handles most of life’s little glitches through foresight, observation and contemplation. Partly because of him, recently I am taking the time to teach myself to draw, do a bit of writing and start my own blog. I can finally do this because now I can accept the hiccups along the way and not be preoccupied with perfection. What’s the point if I don’t learn anything new?

My husband has a lot of patience. He treats others respectfully, and recognizes that we can’t fully understand someone else’s perspective, especially when we’ve never been in their shoes. He minds his own business, but takes an active interest in the lives of those around him. He shows compassion to those in need, and most importantly, is considerate of others. He makes me want to be a better person, to be less self-involved, to put the needs of others in front of my own.

He is my muse. My inspiration.