I am now on Mactan Island just off the Cebu mainland, but the good news is that there is a bridge connecting the two. Every ferry disaster you hear of seems to be in the Philippines, so I was never going to get a boat!
The drive back from Moalboal was the one I did two weeks ago, just in reverse and with a different driver. But coming into Cebu we took a slightly different route – but the sights were the same. Terrible shanty towns, no evidence of any real prosperity and packed colourful jeepney’s fighting for road space with the buses. Until of course you enter the resorts which are a different world. I am in the Maribago Bluewater resort for four days. I needed to move nearer the airport and decided that it would be good to be here, both to visit Mactan and to be able to visit Cebu – a Philippine City. The hotel is very nice, typical resort but low rise, many here for example the Shangri La and the Hilton are not. This one is pools everywhere and a white sugar sand beach with turquoise sea. My favourite is the intercom on the pole under each beach umbrella for you to order drinks or food so you don’t have to walk anywhere! Fab! There is also a little sand island just out to sea that they paddle you to in a little boat or you can swim over at low tide. So all very civilised, guess I’m flashpacking again. The picture in the road outside the resort is, however, a little different. It’s a ribbon development of small “shops” selling nothing but dusty bottles of Coke and the odd sachet of Ariel soap powder dangling sadly across the front. The houses are grim, dark, weatherbeaten wooden structures patched up with driftwood. Just outside the hotel is a taxi (well I use that word advisedly – a trike perhaps is better) stand, a tattoo parlour and a money changer. The trike man’s cafe is not a place I plan for dinner......
So it’s now a typical Saturday night – just had pizza and a decent glass of wine and am now being entertained – no, sadly not the X Factor on ITV but the “dance that’s been around for thousands of years” at the cultural show round the pool. Half naked muscle bound men (so it ‘aint all bad) in feathers and big beaks (I’m sure I’ve seen it all before – was it Mexico or Guatemala?) The staff here are very friendly as I sit on my terrace typing this. The young security guard stops for a chat and asks the usual question about where is the husband. I should learn and just say “at home”. But on hearing there wasn’t one he asks why “as I am such a beautiful woman” (well at least someone thinks so....) I am not looking for a new one. I wonder if he was putting himself up as a candidate – well I suppose it would make a change from all those men coming here to look for wives....
For the last few weeks I have become somewhat bored of German and Dutch voices. Here they have been replaced with Chinese (Hong Kong, I think), Japanese, noisy Korean and Russian. Oh to hear a Brit, an Ozzie or even at a push, an American! I have also been asked if I am German or Russian – does this mean that the state of the pound (dire as usual) means most Brits have stopped travelling.... But does it also mean that the sun has bleached my hair really badly and I have put on huge amounts of weight and dress really badly...... I hope not. And can someone please explain the Japanese habit of taking pictures at all angles, in all places and grinning inanely at the camera whilst holding both hands up with the Churchillian “V” sign.....
I also have to admit to a tech failure last night. Going to bed, I could turn all the lights off except one in the corner which was shining directly in my eyes. I looked everywhere, tried every switch but to no avail. It was no good, and I couldn’t find the eyeshades I had brought from the plane for exactly this eventuality. So I thought laterally – now I know it’s not a good picture, but imagine me with a pair of black knickers wrapped round my head to keep out the light.... It worked. But I felt foolish this morning when I asked the housekeeping lady how to turn it off. She just made sure the wardrobe doors were shut properly.....
And now the yellow ribbons – no I haven’t been kidnapped. As I got nearer to Cebu city, every tree, telegraph pole, roadside plant and lamppost was festooned with huge amounts of yellow ribbons. I ask what it all means and am told that it’s for the forthcoming elections which are in May, the same time as I think ours might be. Perhaps someone should suggest this to Gordon Brown – trees festooned with red, blue and yellow ribbons would surely cheer up the nation in the grey weather!
