Dumaguete in Pictures

The Day I Found Nemo (Apo Island)

If Dumaguete had an almost legendary reputation among the Filippinos we spoke to, the only place to challenge its fabled status was Apo Island, a tiny, rugged dot in the Bohol sea. We tagged along on a diving trip organized by the hostel and, after some confusion about who was going to take us from the dive site to the island, we found ourselves being rowed from the big boat to the beach in the “small boat” … which turned out to be very small indeed.

We had taken snorkelling gear almost by accident as a token gesture to participating in the diving trip, but fate was clearly smiling upon us when we took that decision, because while the island itself was beautiful, the best sights were definitely under the water around its shores.

After taking a little while to figure out how best to breathe through the mouthpiece and enter and exit the water in flippers (purse your lips as if you’re kissing and walk backwards where possible) we got the hang of it and spent a couple of hours splashing about in the not-very-deep water. The main marine reserve on the far side of the island was unfortunately another victim of typhoon Sendong and will probably take five years to recover but even on the non-reserve side we saw some amazing marine life. There was coral, some gently swaying in the waves, some lumpy like alien life forms. There were brightly coloured fish, including the little Nemo-fish I found hiding in a corner of the reef. There were hideous black sea slugs and cucumbers and strange black spiky things with what looked like shiny little eyes. And best of all there were the sea-turtles, giant and gentle, who paddled around with their wide flippers and nibbled at the sea bed, seemingly totally unconcerned at our presence.

I also had my first every experience of swimming in the sea in the rain, which is even more bizarre when you can see the raindrops splashing from underneath the surface of the water, but most of the time it was a gorgeous day and despite our best efforts to keep covered up (people in the Philippines tend to swim in shorts and t-shirts and we were slathered in factor 50 for most of the day), we all got varying degrees of redness on our skin afterwards.

The one tiny crisis occurred when my flip-flop broke walking along the beach. Setting off for four days with only one pair of cheap plastic shoes was never particularly intelligent, and wearing said shoes to scramble over boulders up a river was clearly (literally) a step or ten too far, but luckily flip-flops are practically the national footwear in the Philippines and as soon as we got back to Dumaguete I was able to limp to a shop selling hundreds of different kinds. Having bigger feet than the average Filippina limited my choice a bit but I left  the shop a few minutes later and only a couple of euros poorer with another pair to add to my collection and very appropriate souvenir of my trip.

Negros:Valencia

On our first day on Negros, we took a motorbike taxi up into the interior of the island, to the small town of Valencia. This was by far the most beautiful journey we had taken so far. Lush greenery was everywhere and tropical flowers in every colour cascaded down by the roadside. Arriving at the market place, as soon as the driver turned the engine off, I was struck by the total calm of the place, a silence that felt almost alien after the endless buzz of traffic in Cebu and Dumaguete.

Up until this point, I had perhaps believed that the tricycle taxis were an adventurous form of transport, but that was before I discovered the habal-habal, an elongated motorbike that takes its name from a description of copulating animals. Our drivers said we needed bike and driver each, but this was later disproved …

The reason for taking a habal-habal and not a tricycle taxi was that the road higher up was too rough and steep for the tricycles. So taking an even less stable form of transport, with no helmet of course, was the perfect solution. The ride up was bumpy and exhilarating but we all arrived at our destination in one piece, ready to walk down over 300 steps to the famous Casaroro falls. The guidebook made it sound like a walk in the park, so we were a little dismayed to get to the bottom of the steps and find a path that looked like this:

After about twenty minutes of scrambling over rocks in less-than-ideal footwear, we decided that we must have gone the wrong way and started to head back. On the way, we passed something that looked as though it could have been a dried up waterfall and assumed that was it. Disappointed, we made our way, hot and panting, back to the top of the steps.

Luckily for us, one of the drivers met us at the top and asked if we had found the falls. When we said we hadn’t, he confirmed that we had in fact been going the right way and offered to come with us and show us, so back down we trooped, back along the crumbling pathway, back over the rocks, waded through the river, rounded the corner ten metres from where we had stopped before, and saw this:

So in the end it was definitely worth it!

Our adventure was not over yet, however. When we got back to the top of the steps for the second time, the other two drivers hadn’t yet come back. The first driver beeped his horn a few times, but to no avail.

And so it was that we learned to ride the habal-habal Philippino style: if you've never shared a motorbike with 3 other people, you haven't lived.

And we were even more relieved to arrive back in Valencia safe and sound.

Bohol: The Loboc River and the Tarsier Sanctuary

We were fairly lazy the afternoon of our arrival at Nuts Huts, but the following morning we rented kayaks and paddled our way up the river to a nearby waterfall. It wasn't very far, but gliding over the green water and admiring the coconut palms up above, you could imagine that you were an intrepid jungle explorer. My friend was even intrepid enough not only to jump in for a swim but also to get back successfully into her kayak afterwards.

We had to leave Nuts Huts that morning, but on our way back to Tagbilaran, we stopped off at the Philippine Tarsier Sanctuary. The Philippine Tarsier is a rare animal about the size of your hand that used to be thought to be the world's smallest monkey until its zoological classification was changed. The tarsiers generally sleep during the day, so the guides at the sanctuary go out and locate them in the morning, then take visitors to the correct spots to look at them during the day. One of the ones we saw was actually awake, so we were able to see that they really can leap three metres from branch to branch, as well as rotating their heads through 180 degrees.

Bohol: Loboc

The alarm went off early the next morning. My friends had decided that I was not to be allowed to waste a single minute of my time in the Philippines and, as they had two days off over the weekend, we were going on a trip to the island of Bohol.

The island of Cebu is part of the Visayas, which make up the middle part of the Philippine archipelago. Cebu city isn't really a touristy place but the rest of the Visayas are highly recommended in the guidebooks and Bohol is major holiday destination for the Philippinos themselves. I had my first ever jeepney ride down to the pier, then it took a couple of hours to make the crossing from Cebu to the port of Tagbilaran.

Stepping off the boat, you could tell straight away that this was a tourist hotspot because we were immediately descended upon by a crowd of insistent tricycle drivers demanding to take us to wherever we wanted to go. My friend negotiated a price with one of them and off we went. Our first port of call was the shopping centre to withdraw money and have lunch, then all we had to do was walk over to the neighbouring bus station. Except that as we were eating, it started to rain. And when it rains in the Philippines, it really rains. Within minutes, the streets were awash and I suddenly realised that wearing socks and trainers was a really bad idea.

The most common footwear in the Philippines seems to be flip-flops, and because it's so hot and the rain is so heavy, an umbrella is a better bet than a waterproof jacket. You live and learn.

Luckily the rain had more or less stopped by the time our bus left the bus station, so we were treated to stunning views of the coast as we travelled from Tagbilaran to Loboc.

Loboc is famous for having the second-oldest church in the Philippines. Unfortunately, it wasn't famous enough for the builders of this bridge to remember that it might be something of an impediment to their construction plans.

The town is also the starting point for cruises up the Loboc river with opportunities on board for dining and of course, videoke. We decided not to indulge this time and instead walked through the jungle to Nuts Huts, our accommodation further up the river.

Nuts Huts is a total backpacker experience and owes its success almost entirely to being “Our Pick” in the Lonely Planet guidebook, but that doesn't make it any less of a cool place to stay. You are ferried across the river and on the other side, almost entirely hidden amongst the trees, is a small group of jungle huts on stilts that you can book for the night. You have to flush the toilet yourself using a bucket but the huts are extremely comfortable, and where else could you sit on your own private balcony and admire the banana tree just outside your front door for 800 pesos (about 8 euros) per night? And if you climb the very steep steps up to the reception area, the restaurant, complete with terrace tables and hammocks, serves delicious food as well.

A Confession

When I booked my ticket to the Philippines back in November of last year, I should probably have felt excited. And to some extent I was: excited to see good friends again, to do something different, to travel not only to a new country but a new continent. But in truth, I have to admit that, faced with my first trip outside of Europe, my first journey of the first world and my first voyage to a country where the Foreign Office Advisory map is not purely a reassuring shade of green, I was probably more nervous than anything else. Nervous about everything from jet lag to dengue fever, and also a little bit embarrassed to be so worried about what leaving my Euro-comfort zone would be like. I knew that it would be a worthwhile experience but my over-cautious brain was stopping me from truly looking forward to what I was going to do.

It was only when I set off for Charles de Gaulle airport that that started to change. As I checked in for my flight, I smiled at the fact that for the first time I was on a long haul flight to an exotic destination and not a short EasyJet hop, and I realised that while I did have a little knot in my stomach, it was made up as much of excitement as of nerves.

And my optimism proved well-founded. Far from being the equivalent of spending 15 hours on Ryanair (something akin to experiencing one of the deeper circles of hell), my flight with Cathay Pacific was actually enjoyable. I had a window seat and spent a large part of it comparing the position of the little plane on the screen with the view down below of Eastern Europe and the plains of Siberia. When it got dark, the selection of in-flight films and TV series was so good that I was reluctant to go to sleep. The knowledge that I would be arriving at 11.30 local time and 5.30 my time, having missed out on an entire night of sleep did push me to get some shut-eye, but only when I had caught up on a couple of the movies that I had recently missed in the cinema.

My transit in Hong Kong was ridiculously smooth and I was lucky enough to be by the window again for the short flight to Cebu. My only regret was not keeping my camera out as we prepared for landing, because the view of the Philippine islands with their lush greenery, coloured roofs and silver beaches nestling in the tropical turquoise sea was absolutely stunning.

And then there I was in the Philippines, suddenly ready for the experience of a lifetime.