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Messner On Tour
All together now - "God Bless The Philippines".
I left you last high, dry and shoeless in Bangkok. What krazy (note crazy spelling of crazy. Crazy!) skrapes (note cr....etc.) have you been getting into since then Simon? Gather close children, gather round t'open fire, and I'll tell thee.
I donned the oriental shoehorn and prised myself out of Thailand (Frying Pan) into Cebu City, Philippines (Fire). First stop was the island of Bohol where I turned up, bagged myself a beachside hut, and waited for the dream to unfold. While I sat and waited for the afore mentioned dream, I couldn't help but notice all the Western men had Filipino girlfriends, quite large beer guts and answered to the name of Fritz. This has set a pattern for the last 10 days where I can't help but feel like a Halcrow engineer, on the hunt for that all elusive wife, just by my very attendance in this country.
That aside the beaches are white, the sea is turquoise and the palm trees are...... brown. There are many places that are picture postcard perfect and I have so many pics of them it is getting tedious! So, cut to the chase, main highlights:
1. Boat of Seed.
After lazing on the beach I decided to hoover up a PADI open water diving course. On the last day my instructor and I hitched a lift on a boat to another island. Passenger list - Eight Middle aged Koreans, Eight young Filipino ladies, my instructor and little ol' me. In my naivety I went as far to ask one of the girls if they dived much, to a burst of schoolish giggles. Embarrassed and deflated Messner retreated to Base Camp. Only 30 minutes later did I realize the source of their amusement was because the Korean blokes had hopped off a plane, headed to Cebu City (They had their suitcases on the boat) and had 'bought' the young fillies for a day! Oh my boat of seed! Messner had to look away on more than one occasion as buttocks were slapped and sake drunk in celebration.......
2. Four Weddings and a funeral (well one wedding and no funeral really)
After refusing a lift on a rowing boat for a 10km journey on open choppy waters to my next island destination, I found myself with a 4 hour wait for a real ferry. Note two of my potential passengers in this tin bath were two men dressed as women - one making half an effort by growing his hair and singing in high pitched tones "Wake me up inside" at me, while the other merely had mans hair with a pink hair clip in it. Men's feet in stilettos are a creepy sight I never want to see again. While waiting I found myself offered brandy and 7 up with some local boys who couldn't have been friendlier to me. So friendly in fact that one of them whisked me off in a taxi to show me his village, house, local beach and watering hole. He also said if I was willing to catch tomorrow's boat I could come to his cousins wedding. Not being one to turn down hospitality, or a potential source of banter to fill this diary, I accepted. Sure enough there I was in someone's back garden as guest of honour at a Filipino wedding. My fears of being under dressed were allayed as I was introduced to the bride's father - who was wearing a vest. I noticed that although the celebration had been going for only about an hour, a lot of the men were plastered. I soon realized the reason for this was the only alcoholic drink on offer was called 65, so called as it is 65% proof whisky which was being chinned neat. So, after being forced to:
• sing a song on the karaoke (my choice being Neil Diamond's 'Solitary Man' - Filipinos can't get enough of karaoke)
• choose from a line up of single nieces for a wife
• explain my reasoning for being in the Philippines if not for a wife
• shake hands with a woman who was a local politician who ruffled a few feathers in her day - so much so that a masked gunman entered her bedroom in 1988 and shot her in the head. The bullet passed through her cheek and throat and out through her neck. All lovely and normal
• listen to the life story of my new friend Dani, who has a 5 foot wing span Filipino monkey eating eagle in a cage at home in his garden
men started to pass out in corners or be dragged home by embarrassed wives. The time 7pm. Whittaker sober as a judge, as he was pacing himself for an early hours of the morning finish, left a scene how I imagine the aftermath of the Battle of the Somme to have looked like at 7.30 and was in bed at 8. Oh my random afternoon
Since then I have seen a crazy c*** fight, where the winner lives to fight another day and the loser ends up on someone's kitchen table. I have also been lying on the beach trying not to look like I need a wife. So much so that is enough is enough and I leave the coast tomorrow and head to the mountains! Next tale will be from Manila hopefully.
Hope everyone is well ands still awake after this war and peace entry! Pics of my adventures to follow soon!
Seedless Messner
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