Pilates on the way to the big city (17 February 2010)

Today I decide to take a trip to the “city”, Moalboal. That’s what they call it here. The bit of Panagsama beach where I am is the village, the bit further along the beach where there are a couple more small hotels and the odd restaurant is called “downtown”. I was expecting a lot. But when I got there I realised that definitions of city are quite different here! Moalboal is tiny,

a one street town on the main road round the island. It’s still on the sea and there is a wharf area where the fishing boats come in. This also doubled as the meat market which I could smell and see but didn’t investigate too closely. One distant look at the slabs of meat out in the open heat being protected only by a white carrier bag attached to an old wire hanger attached to a slowly whirring fan was more than enough to keep me away... Apart from that there is a market, a municipal centre, a church and a school.

The market was mainly fruit and veg – and whilst small had the usual range of colourful wares, beautiful fruit, bright red chilles of every size, and was nice to walk around. The stalls outside the market looked very colourful too – the sachets of soap powder and shampoo (looks like they can’t afford full size product) festoon the outsides like bunting.

The church was interesting. It’s just the facade of a grand old white building – no idea what happened to the rest of it, perhaps one of their regular cyclones saw it off, with a new modern one storey church built next door. The school was there too with the students all dressed in red and white sailor suit uniforms – like all of these countries I have no idea how they keep the uniforms so white and bright with the limited facilities they have. I discovered that it’s hard to spend money here – a bottle of coke in the shops was 10p and apart from that there was little else to buy. I wasn’t in the market for pots and pans and there were no clothes stalls to be seen. The only one thing I wanted I couldn’t get – I was after mozzie spray but they only have lotion and in tiny bottles. And certainly no ATM. There were a few pawn shops and a couple of Western Union offices for sending and receiving money – not sure whether this area is a net sender of money due to the tourist economy or a net receiver from all those poor girls who end up working abroad as domestics in the Middle East...


The big thing around here is cockfighting, when I saw so many of them I just thought they were f******g big chickens everywhere, but couldn’t understand why they were tethered and each had their own little hut. I just thought they were being extra kind and protective of their animals – until today when we drove past the entrance to the Moalboal Cock Fighting Arena and I realised it was just the opposite.....

 But what of my Pilates? Moalboal is about 7kms away and too far to walk in this heat, so I take one of the local trikes – the motorbikes with the sidecars. They don’t feel too substantial and look like they’re made of metal no thicker than a coke can. What I hadn’t taken into account was the state of the roads – just bare coral with deep potholes and bumps everywhere. I clamber into the small space made for people much smaller than me and brace myself against the floor, the sides, anywhere I could get hold of something solid to stop being ejected. It was an effort to stay on board but perhaps I can look at it as a new way of Pilates – I certainly needed to exercise my core! I was thinking of taking a trip to White Sand Beach soon – but at about twenty minutes each way, I’m not sure I have the strength!

Towels on the sunbed at dawn (11 - 13 February 2010)

It was a welcome relief to get to Marcosa’s Cottage Resort in the very small village of Panagsama, one of the 14 districts of the small town, Moalboal which is on the on the south west coast of Cebu island. It’s a tiny little resort strung out along the coast – I say coast rather than beach. I knew this before I came – there is not much beach here, but what there is is called Panagsama Beach. A cyclone took it away a few years back and the sand is only slowly returning. The seaside area is lined with the small resorts. It looks like this started off as a small fishing village and has grown up into more of a resort as the years have gone by. There are no big hotels here just small independent ones and I am staying at a rather nice one – made up, as the name would suggest, of a number of little detached cottages. It’s sparkly clean with a nice pool, aircon and within budget for a change at £23 a night. The streets are not tarmac, just bare coral with bits of sand and the walk through the village takes you past small mini market shops selling the usual water and toiletries together with a few clothes and t shirts. The t shirts look new but the clothes proudly displayed on the hangers have the look of things that tourists have left behind.... There are a few bars and restaurants as well as quite a few diving places which is what seems to drive the economy here and that’s about it. But a lot of these places are closed down, as everywhere, I think the tourist economy here struggles. The dive boats are rather odd looking catamarans that look like great white spiders out on the clear sea. It’s a long time since I’ve been as far away from an ATM, I think the nearest one is about 30 miles away! But it seems a peaceful place with the transport being the small brightly painted motorbike tuk tuks to take you out of the village, the people seem nice and apart from the odd little girl trying to sell you a necklace you are not hassled to buy anything at all. 

I wandered off the main seaside bit today to the houses behind the touristy bit. The houses are mainly very small thatch affairs each with a few straggly plants growing around, together with children and chickens, it looks like they just scrape a living. I’ve also been trying some of the local food – Bam –i and adobo but have so far resisted the dried fish with egg for breakfast!

Most of the other people staying here seem to be Germans – I haven’t heard one English voice yet, so obviously I will need to be up early to get that sunbed.......! And I think the taxi driver got it wrong when he said the Europeans come here for the warmth – four large older Germans arrived today with four young Philippine women in tow......