The adventure of improvising in the Philippines
Improvisation is, in our view, one of the best traveling companions on the trip. If you add to that two traveling sisters and bad luck with transport, the result is a fun day in the style of Pekin Express.
After four rainy nights in the cloudy paradise of El Nido, we decided upon waking up to leave for the neighboring Port Barton in search of the long-awaited sun. Idoia and Maite, with whom we shared laughs and watery coffees for a few days, accompanied us. Improvising in the Philippines is no easy task. First, we struggled to get a seat on the Roro Bus company bus to Roxas. Clenching our butts and bouncing non-stop on a tortuous dirt road, after a few hours we reached the destination to catch a direct jeepney to Port Barton. Error. There is only one daily jeepney and it had already left. We tried unsuccessfully to find an alternative transport that would take us without emptying our pockets. We had no choice but to get back on the bus so it would drop us off, after paying extra money (naive, we thought they wouldn’t charge us), a little further ahead in San José, right at the intersection with the road to Port Barton.
And there it left us.
And at that intersection, where there was nothing more than a stop, we had to wait for a long time while we stuffed some sad instant noodles into our stomachs. Next to us were two tricycle drivers with whom we tried in vain to negotiate a fair price for the journey. We, armed with patience and stubbornness, decided to wait for them to lower the price. Error, again. The price didn’t go down, it went up and, furthermore, accompanied by some curious laughter. Logical, there was no bus or jeepney to Port Barton, so they knew they were our only option. Besides, the journey was an hour and a half on a road full of potholes, curves, and somewhat muddy from the rain of previous days. So, of course, they weren’t willing to move for less.
We waited, tried hitchhiking, played hard to get, asked a van, all under the mocking gaze of the drivers. Mayte and I decided to start walking in search of we-didn’t-know-what. And before us appeared an off-road vehicle parked not far away, robust and much more comfortable than the tricycles. A smile brightened our already somewhat desperate faces.
Getting the car cost us a most surreal negotiation: the owner of the vehicle thinking in “off mode” for minutes. The tricycle guys trying to break our deal… But we managed it and loaded the backpacks onto the roof of the off-roader.
We quickly understood why the owner was thinking so hard. He wasn’t calculating if the journey was profitable, but whether the car would make it to Port Barton. It must have been years since he started it, because it was parked there more like a storage room. Instead of back seats, they put in a board, it had to be cleaned of cobwebs, hot-wired to start… anyway, sometimes, a picture is worth a thousand words.
If the negotiation was surreal, the journey was even more so. Two kids were riding on the roof of the car, we don’t quite know why. Maybe to push if we got stuck on the way… Their feet hanging on the other side of the window have remained burned into my memory.
Soon it started to rain in the Philippines way. So we stopped to take down the backpacks to prevent them from getting wet. Error, once again. They would end up getting wet anyway, despite being squeezed on top of us. Our battered butts also got wet because, of course, there was no rear window. But the best part was when the two companions from the roof got in the front where Bruno and the driver were already sitting. And so, with four big guys sitting in front, holding the half-open doors with their hands, with no space to move even an eyelash, we continued on our way while it kept pouring and we kept getting bumped around.
Seven adults, plus four large backpacks and three small ones, we arrived in Port Barton incredibly safe and sound. There, of course, it was still raining and the sun we were chasing didn’t want to show up.
Another soggy Filipino paradise. Luckily there was still the island of Siquijor to remind us that there indeed are sunny paradises in the Philippines.
