German settlers

I didn't know Australia had begun as a prison ... did you? Apparently Adelaide was one of the few towns that began as , well, a normal town without the "prisoner" element, and for that they are quite proud. Many Germans came out here in the 19th century and established both the vineyards and the old towns that dot the coast line. One such place is Hahndorf, a step back into turn-of-the-century settlers land. It is your typical one road town ... everything you want to see and do is pretty much on the main "high street". There's a berry picking farm that makes some darn good jellies and preserves so that was my first port of call, bien sur! I figured I could take some back to my lovely host who has lent me her oh-so-cool convertible car to zoom around the hills while she's at work in the office. This is, indeed, the life of leisure. So I went about my business, tasting jams, buying home-made dark, german rye bread loaves, snapping at the quaint houses and feasting in a local delicacy for lunch: sausage with sauerkraut. I then zoomed off to a nearby winery for a taste of their reds, non of which amazed me and then on the off chance, tried a white pinot gris and bought 2 bottles to bring home. So there you go...that was my day, in a far flung Australian hill town that looked more like a Bavarian outpost on a very lucky sunny day than an outback setting of Crocodile Dundee. Australia sure has some quirky spots, which I do hope to visit soon. In the meantime, german sausages down under it is!

Tea Tree walks

Yesterday I went for a 3 hour, rather steep trek up to Mount Lofty, overlooking Adelaide. It also overlooks the vast wine region that lies around this coastal town. It amazes me how much wine Australia produces and how close it is to where I've landed (... chance or destiny?). When I walked those steep paths yesterday, all I could smell was tea tree oil from the surrounding tea trees. I was not sure what it was at first so I kept stopping and pulling off leaves, branches, bark and all manner of greenery form around me in the quest to figure out what on earth smelled so darn good! Eventually, I came to a trail sign indicating the surrounding trees were tea trees and it all made sense. I did eventually find the bit off the branches that smells like heaven, so I rubbed it on my hands and smelled it all the way to the top. It was so incredibly refreshing and I suppose so was the novelty of being back on my feet climbing heights, which I have discovered is one of my passions. It made me think why I never actually went off climbing or walking back home in Spain, renowned for it's trails and hikes. I guess sometimes one has to travel far (in my case VERY far) to discover things that are perfectly available back home. It's all part of the fun. Today I have woken up aching ... a rarity but I imagine after so many months of recovery and all, I was beginning to turn into hard brick.

The other side of the world

I have literally come to the other side of the planet and the thing that most shocks me is that ... it's all pretty much the same. :-)
Of course, I have been here less than 24 hours so this really is a first impression. I suppose after so much traveling, I feel like I am in a British coastal town I had not happened upon during my years living in the UK. Glenelg, Adelaide, is cute... with it's tram, it is a strange cross between a flat street in San Francisco, and a piece of Brighton beach. Looking outside the window at the houses that line the streets, I realise there's a piece of England, Holland, Austria and Denmark everywhere I look. I love the old tram that takes you from Adelaide to the coast, and at night as in the day, I have experienced for myself the friendliness of Australians. They really are laid-back, very eager to help, and strangely amused at having a Spanish visitor in town. The men are all quite charming and good looking, in a rough rugby-lad kinda way. Of course, the accent has also got something to do with it! I managed to pull a policeman on my first night out (after nearly collapsing in a queue from sleep deprivation). The shopping is also quite good here, although it is strange to find North African art and jewellery all the way out in Adelaide, of all places. It all feels strangely familiar. So after enjoying the first impressions and sights, attempting to catch up with the jet lag and realising I had only achieved 10 hours sleep in the last 4 days, I succumbed mid-day yesterday to what I thought would be a small afternoon nap, and woke up today at 9 AM!!! I think that's if for the jet lag. I am in synch with local time, feeling Australian and ready to go explore the outback!

Water

How did I survive so many hours of flying? The truth is it was all much more bearable than I expected. And the secret is in the water. I have been flying for many years now, and have already done 13 hour flights before. I have read innumerable times how important drinking water and moisturising your skin is, but I suppose I never realised just what a difference it makes if done properly. Note, this also requires an aisle seat for free toilet access every 20 minutes. Down a bottle of water on the hour, every hour of flight has become my rule. This and moisturising so I don't feel like Hulk breaking out of my dry skin has made the flying bearable.

There is little cure for the jet-lag though. I arrived in Singapore at 2 AM local time and could not, for the life of me, fall asleep, despite it being dark out and not having gotten any sleep in flight. I suppose the excitement of being on the go again, of arriving somewhere new in Asia and of my next day's ongoing journey to Australia kept me awake, emailing off my computer until 5AM when I succumbed to 4 hours sleep before waking up again to daylight. I went for a walk on the beach, and a quick, cheap and cheerful eyebrow shaping and lip hair waxing treatment at the salon across the street. I think I've discovered a little ritual of mine: to sample the local grooming services of every country I visit (remember Vietnam?) or maybe this hairy ape just cannot go without it for more than 3 weeks! Anyway, feeling lighter already, I went for sampling of the local food and a much needed foot massage. Ahhh, the joys of inexpensive indulgence. I discovered my kidney point was quite painful (maybe I had overworked it with so much water) and well, mostly my entire body was in pain, so I went off for a 2 hour nap before grabbing my bags and heading out to the airport once again.

Air Time

I have been traveling for 3 days on an airplane. What sort of crazed human being agrees to this anyway? The funniest thing is, I seem to have only lived through 2 of those 3 days... there are 24 hours in there where I guess I went missing cause I crossed the date-line, time-line, whatever-line somewhere in the Pacific and disappeared for a while. (Man, this diet really works!) Anyway, I don't think I have ever stepped foot on so many countries and cities within the space of 72 hours; Detroit, Tokyo, Singapore, Perth, Adelaide ... and done so little. Highlights? here they go:

Spent 15 minutes waiting for a toilet in Detroit airport. I think the woman was scrubbing away dead skin cells in there while I prayed not to pee in my pants. It was disabled toilet I was waiting for because I was in a wheelchair myself. Meanwhile, I observed the overhead electric train that runs from one end of the terminal building to the other overhead. Now, why have I only seen this in Detroit?

The flight to Tokyo was on a jumbo jet, those once awe-inspiring machines, (with their twirling stairwell up into 1st class) now tatty and obsolete, at least in the face of the new Airbus 300 series with their freaky silence, power outlets in every seat (remember I am sitting in economy), individual screens with on-demand entertainment, comfy seats with the tilting head-rest sides to hold the ever-snoozing head, halogen slow-on, slow-off reading lights, superbly clean and flashy toilets... I got to fly on the A-300 for the first time on a flight from Madrid to Miami and actually saw how the airplane took off because it's tail had a camera transmitting the view into the screen before me. That was pretty cool. Anyway, back to the jumbo jet. I sat next to a Detroit couple who were on their way to China to adopt a baby girl. It had been a very tough 2 years for them and they could not believe the moment had come. I don't normally talk much when I fly but the girl, Laurie, seemed eager and provided good conversation. Amongst her parenting books and magazines I also spotted the 2 latest "People" magazines, which reminded me I had not purchased any gossip entertainment before boarding this 13 hour flight. I did have my computer, 5 books, my iPod and 3 movies aboard the flight, but in my mind all I wanted now was to shuffle through the mags so began devising ways in which to ask to borrow them politely. This is what long air travel does to you .. well, does to me. I seem to hoard entertainment options and then never do half what I intend to accomplish in flight. I suppose it is the survival of boredom instinct, particularly when 2 of the 3 movies on board you've already seen and the coach section does not supply power outlets for you to juice up your computer. I did eventually ask one of the crew if they could find me a power outlet in one of the 3 empty business class seats. A quick aside here - what is up with not upgrading people into these empty spots? I mean, even if just for the look of sheer gratitude and joy on their faces, and to know you will have made that person's day, and possibly a devoted future frequent flyer? Anyway, I got a very nice crew who actually did find me the plug (in spite of the Pursar's disagreement) and together with my neighbour voluntarily offering me the People magazines, I became a happy camper.

I landed in Japan with subdued excitement, nothing like what I thought I would feel back in 1996 had I gotten the scholarship for my semester abroad over there as part of my Japanese degree. I began thinking of the underlying reasons why I still had not gotten out to Japan this year given my personal history with the country and it's language. And thoughts of entering the JET teaching programme entered my mind for the umpteenth time. Part of me realises I am no longer fluent in this language, like I once was, and facing and owning up to the lack of follow-through after so many years of effort is somewhat difficult to come to terms with. I did manage to have a brief exchange with the ladies at the duty free whilst asking about some souvenir sweets to take to my hosts in Australia. The flight was promptly boarded just as I began kicking myself for how many things I no longer remembered how to say. And so, off another 7 hours to Singapore, where I would thankfully get a good night's sleep on a flat surface (at this point, any flat surface would do).

The adventure continues....

For those of you who doubted whether I'd ever get my butt off my family's comfy sofas and hit the road again... I got news for ya! I am off again!!!! There will be new lands to explore and old ones to re-visit. The money is starting to run out and yet, money comes and goes so one better spend it wisely... or decadently... or on a whim. For me, this time of my life means spending it in all the above mentioned ways and more! I have to mention I bid for my flight online ... and won!! I got a pretty sweet deal from www.skyauction.com. Hoping it is not a complete scam, I should be making it out to Singapore by Jan 18th and then jumping on another flight to Australia the following day. I will miss a much desired stopover in Tokyo, but maybe when the coffers are a bit fuller (or I get sent off to update Japan's Lonely Planet issue) I will return. As for New Zealand, I have promised to make that a trip in itself with a deserved 6-8 weeks MINIMUM. I will pass by my beloved Chiang Mai for a few days and then return to the Philippines... and see whether I can make a living there at all. Wish me luck and please keep reading the blog!

kid's joy!

My Mom has been planning this holiday for over 2 years now; to take my 5 year old nephew to Disney World. My parents took me there when I was 6 and despite what people may say, I do remember many things (that are not sparked memories from photographs!). I remembered it being an assault on my senses, an unbearable excitement, a dream I never wanted to wake up from! Much has happened in the last 30 years and many other more modern parks have opened up around the globe. However, Disney maintains a certain charm even for adults (despite many rides being a bit dated). This year, just watching my nephew's eyes light up in joy, amazement and surprise made it all worth it again. I've attached a picture so you can see what I mean! Oh.... and of course, me being unemployed and all that, and traveling with what my parents call "jeta-credit" (i.e. they pay for it all) made the experience even more sublime! Thanks Mom & Dad for a great New Year's gift!!

Christmas by the sea

Today I find myself on the other side of the globe, sailing on the shores of Miami Beach, looking at the array of imagination it takes to light up a boat. In Miami decoration is individual so most days you cruise down lush avenues covered in large trees and find most porches or fences lit up. This year, the boat parade at Key Biscayne was unique for me; it was my first time. The day was overcast and threatening rain. Yet we took off before sunset to observe the array and display of light. Dusk rolled along and I stopped for a moment to remind myself of why I have always thought it to be the most beautiful and peaceful time of day. We were not surrounded by that quietness that snowfall evokes, but the city was far away in the distance and the calmness of the water felt peaceful. The air was foggy. The city lights bouncing off the clouds offered an electric blue light. I looked around to the water as I soaked up drops of rain on my skin. The sensation was eerie, yet magical. For a moment I was back in Vietnam, floating down the spooky waters and through the giant lime-stone karsts of Halong Bay. And so I began to remember the year that had passed; how time flies; how tough it is sometimes to be an active protagonist of such different lives.

I wish you all much health to run out and pursue your dreams in this life that is so short and so rich with opportunity.

Immigration

As my flight landed 5 days ago, the man at the immigration desk asked me what I did for a living. I hesitated. I had no choice but to reply, "nothing". He or I would hardly have time to delve into what's been occupying my time over the past months. I suppose the fact that it's the holiday season forgives this rather strange answer. At another time I think he would've asked more questions and perhaps even prevented my entry.

It is interesting how random events take on a special place in one's mind, one's drive for improvement or one's dreams. The next time I get asked that question I would like to say "I am an artist", "I am a published author", "I am a singer", "I am a photographer". I have to start believing it first, and then I will be able to project it onto those around me.

I have thought a lot lately about career and what drives so many of us to enter the corporate world from university. What has got me thinking a lot is why career fairs tend to be so populated with corporate giants and their lavish sales pitch presentations to attract us independence and salary-hungry twenty something year olds. I cannot remember ever visiting a stand with pilots, firefighters, editors, musicians, decorators, designers, craftsmen, olympians... I majored in marketing and minored in 2 foreign languages so I suppose we have such a clear idea at 20 of what or who we want to be as grown-ups that what is staged around us are only the obvious paths. And that is fine. I know I have learned ever so much more in the business environment than from textbooks in college. But really, most people studying business, I think, are there because they are not quite sure they know what else to study, or have no strong vocational desire to be a lawyer, doctor, architect, singer, writer... at least a business office will give them a quick run up the graduate career ladder. So my question to myself is whether I would've lived differently had I developed my extra curricular interests a bit more, had my commencement speech mentioned it's OK not to know what you want and that it's OK to go out and explore...even if it may take you years to find out, had the graduate fair showcased more than the idolised, sleek business-woman running her own team?

I look at my life and admire many of the things I have done and think I wouldn't want it any other way. There are also times when I feel like the system is somehow not quite right and that the western world pushes us towards careers and life habits that do not quite fit the real dreams within, or what our minds and bodies were designed for. Interestingly, all these jobs fuel all the industries arising to relax and de-stress people, to entertain them as quickly and intensely as possible, to drive them to foreign lands for a taste of how the majority of the world live in the space of sometimes less than 10 days. It's a well-oiled ... and a rather disturbing machine somehow. On the other hand, maybe it is there because THAT is the real test of strength; whether once involved, we are able to get off the dizzying ferris wheel with all it's fake bright lights; whether we can land without falling and hurting ourselves; whether we are able to come off overcoming the dizziness and see the world around us and all the opportunities around; whether we can feel free and not overwhelmed at the choice and out potential to grow; whether we can ignore how scared we are when we realise our age and wonder whether we invested our time and efforts wisely throughout the past decade, or two.

books, tv and music

It's been nearly a month since the operation. It is usually against my will, but my better judgement knows that complete rest is a no-nonsense requirement issued by my surgeon. Am I bored? No... not really; I have lots of entertainment and mental stimulation with all the books, movies and music I am trying to compose. Restless is a better description for how I feel. A year of trekking followed by this foot up in the air business is kinda tough on me. I long to walk the streets, go to the gym, dance at a nightclub, be able to stand up in the kitchen and cook a meal. This is yet another view of the world... from a chair, and albeit in a very comfortable location in Barcelona. I really cannot complain.

So I am reading a really cool book my Brother lent me called The Devil's Picnic, by a Canadian called Taras Grescoe. I pick it up mid afternoon most days because it is a collection of tales by a mind tickled with the questions of why certain foods, drinks and substances are banned in certain countries, or perceived to be "bad" for you. Ever wondered why raw milk cheese from France or acorn-fed and free range Spanish cured ham is banned in the US? or why on earth chewing gum and soimething as innocent as an M&S poppy seed cookie could get you into jail in Singapore...or why the Swiss are the original creators of Absinthe and would rather it had been kept illegal? These and many other questions are answered by this intriguing and funny book that challenges the establishment and puts a question mark on many of the reasons behind banning or not certain foods and substances. I highly recommend it, no less than for an interesting gastronomic tour of the world.

I've also been engaging, very actively may I add... and fervently, I suppose, in the act of audiovisual passive entertainment, read tv series. I do balance that with very active photographic editing, composing a mini picture/story book of my travels to present to possible editors and composing music on my new midi keyboard and professional microphone. This is what has me all excited now. For now, I can only point you towards one recording available online on http://www.myspace.com/teba2. More to come I hope.

Happy 1st Anniversary..... to me!

Today marks one year, officially. On October 28th 2005, I took a flight bound for Beijing. Granted, I had to stay in London overnight because I missed my connection (so maybe it's mkore like tomorrow....hmmm). Well, since it was the airline's delay, I got some dosh and sprawled out at some airport stores. I just found a sexy little number I bought on that layover... and somehow (very mistakenly may I add), I shipped it back early in my trip. Wasn't it you, Heather, who reminded me that even as a backpacker I should take a nice sexy top and makeup? Shoulda listened to you more. Next time around, because there is a part II to this great adventure, and it's coming up shortly, I'll be packing VERY differently :-)

So...the million dollar question: Have I changed? I don't think people change very much at 30. However, I do believe they can open their eyes and learn new things; become more aware of themselves, their surroundings, their opportunities and their true, achievable dreams. I find myself thinking and doing some things like never before. Water: my awareness and appreciation for water has heightened. When I leave it on while I am brushing my teeth, I think of those people who I saw walking to the nearest water pump to fill their celadon/clay pots; and I turn it off. I could write a whole novel about what I have learnt on this trip. And yet, haven't I already? Well thanks to all of you who read my blog, I know that whether or not I get published, I've already written the bedtime story book for my friends, family and grandchildren to come... with some pretty nice pictures to go with it. I know I can set up my own massage practice, or even a restaurant. I could plan trips for travellers to come. I can sing my way around the world. I realise that I have a world of opportunity beyond the 6 figure salary of the corporate world that I may or may not go back to, but that got me here in the first place, and that's something I am thankful for. So, no.... I haven't changed all that much. I have opened my eyes to things I could not see that clearly before, and therefore I act and react differently. I have renewed dreams, projects, family ties and friends. And that, today, makes me a happy person. Happy 1st anniversary.... to me!!!

the urge to write

The urge to write seems to arrive lately on a monthly basis. I am beginning to think it may have something to do with my hormones. Well, there's yet another thing to think about. That is what being in bed for so long does to ya. Yeah...recovering from surgery and being limited to beds and chairs with a high cushion for my legs and feet for over 2 weeks gives one time to do a lot of thinking... like how drastically my life differs between now and when I was gasping for air on that trek through the Chinese mountains. Just goes to show how one really doesn't know what is lurking around the corner. Mostly, I find it is good things, although sometimes dressed up in really crappy or scary halloween costumes. Speaking of which, I long for a good old dress up halloween party, all inclusive with the stash of trick or treat candy, the sugar high, the devilish dancing and the sexy vampire kisses on the neck. Damn.... it's been too long.

So I'm sitting here in bed, thinking about how the hours pass with me either writing songs about how I feel about ex lovers (they're all kinda desperate and depressing), shopping online for friends who are about to or have already given birth (seems to be a trend with my group of friends lately), or getting up to speed with every good tv show on American network or cable. I do have a mountain of very good books.... can't seem to dedicate that much time to them somehow. Maybe I am a masochist. I also get a lot of ideas about how to present excerpts of this blog to possible publishers (shout if you know any who may be interested), or how excited I'll be once I get a chance to step into a gym again...or a swimming pool. I realise I am a sporty and active being. Speaking of which, I used to have a part-time sport called "too much thining about stuff"... imagine now that it has become a full blown, full-time affair it's just not that fun anymore. Everyone always says that having to turn hobbies into day to day jobs sucks and tkes the magic out of them. There must be some truth to that. I guess that's why it scares me to think about doing anythiing remotely wage worthy with my music or my writing. Other times I dream of just doing that. Should I tell you about the porn movie I've got running through my head involving the sexy crotch-less attire I have to wear around my legs, and how I intend to change the world of underwater wetsuit diving forever after this?... or shock the fish at least? Have I got writer's block or a stunning case of verbal diaorrhea?

OK enough ... Better leave it at this for now.

...on turning 30

*Photos: My Mom, Yiyita at 60, Me at 30*



Turning 30: Had I not taken off traveling for nearly 10 months, I'd feel very differently about turning 30; more helpless, more desperate, more confused. As it turns out though, turning 30 has become a gateway somehow. Everyone I know in their 30's say it's a fab time and beats the 20's...maybe cause they can only look forward to the future and not get too hung up on the joys of the past. but somehow, it feels like they're all onto something, like it's this club with a cool little secret.

So yeah, about this secret, not sure it's a secret at all. It's more about "being all the wiser and truer to yourself". I guess that one bit from Niebuhr's Serenity Prayer now rings truer than ever (and no, I'm not gonna get all religious now or anything)...

"...the grace to accept with serenity the things I cannot change, courage to change the things which should be changed, and wisdom to distinguish the one from the other. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time ..."

I've grown to love and have fun being with myself, of traveling alone, of reflecting on experiences without the guise of the crowd around me; I love that I can now choose my friends; I love that I can take off partying on my own and have a blast (like that night I went off dancing to Ibiza's "Space" club all by myself! Heck, if I went traveling in Asia for 10 months on my own, how could I pass up on this?!); it's being true to myself about what really motivates me, whether it's pretty or not; it's about making sure I leave nothing "untried". My Mom just turned 60 and she's doing FAB! That means that I have another 30 years of "new life" ahead of me, entering into them from day 1 with full consciousness, ability and impetus.... none of the shitting, crying and sleeping schedule newborns have (what a waste!). I got at least 5 years head start ahead of my previous "birth"! How exciting.

So for me, now is the time to experiment with so many different things on my mind, none of which is a firm plan, like: singing...anywhere anyhow, but seriously; putting music to all the songs I've written and recording some of them; diving in Belize and in Australia; cycling Cuba; getting a US greencard; earning some of my living from giving massage; working as a volunteer with an international aid agency; recovering my Japanese; working out until I get fit as an athlete; skiing down a powdered snow covered slope again.... for now, I'm chilling in sunny Madrid, celebrating being 30.

Sailing

We sailed aboard the "Lisa" last week to the nearby dream island of Formentera. "Juan & Andrea", our favourite restaurant (run by the owners of Pacha club), is a place one could only dream of for a boat outing. Once the anchor hits the white sand at the base of the bay, the restaurant's Zodiac comes to pick you up to sweep you to shore, sailing over cristalline turquoise water I have only seen in Southeast Asia and the Caribbean!

People who arrive by boat get to eat at the tables decked out in the sand, covered by a cream coloured awning that keeps the blinding sun at bay for a few hours of bright shade and superb food. The luxury of digging your feet into the soft sand even while you eat is, I suppose, one of those things only city dwellers really crave. I remember Gai's resort in the Philippines, Pansukian, had all white sand walkways among the garden so that people could walk barefoot in the sand. She confessed to me one day that the locals thought they'd run out of money when they built the walkways, otherwise why would they be of sand?

Ultimately, the boat is still the best way to visit the island's best kept secrets, and one of the best ways to watch the sun set. I miss you, Ibiza.
(pictured in this entry: Es Vedra at sunset, Dalt Vila Ibiza old town by night, Playas del Compte beaches, dusk on the boat, Formentera's Illetas beach)

Ibiza

Ibiza or "The White Island" ("white" because of it's vast expanse of salt pans) is quite the island of pleasure, magic and good vibes! Below is an excerpt from Stephen Armstrong's book "The White Island" which captures Ibiza at it's best:

"... The Carthaginians established a cult there to Tanit, their goddess of sex, around 650 BC and named the Island after Bez, their god of dance. Roman centurions in need of a bit of down time between campaigns would go to Ibiza to get their kicks. And over the centuries virtually every culture around the Mediterranean has used the island either as a playground or as a dump for the kind of people who didn't quite fit in back home, but who you'd probably quite like to meet at a party..." (Stephen Armstrong - The White Island)

How could I not come back for some "down time"? (of course I have been soooooooo busy these past 10 months, that with the stress of living a life of leisure, that I needed to relax for a while!) Well, here I am, enjoying partying ... but mostly, the personality of Ibiza few people hear about. The relaxed, sun-drenched, mediterranean pine-fringed hills, where drinking fine wine overlooking the bay, soaking in the sun, reading and listening to old records and and playing games until the wee hours occupies our time. Our house is an oasis of calm and introspection. From the porch I can smell the trees all around us. As I float in the pool waters every morning, I can almost smell the salt of the pans on the seashore below, and on clear days I geta glimpse of the pearl that is Formentera in the distance. Then night falls in that slow, summer way, and the smell of dusk wraps around me...and I see soloured lights in the distance.... the airplanes taking off and landing... a sight that soothes me, always an invitation to daydream. Where to next? Here...in Ibiza for the time being and thoughts of future I try to keep on the mainland for now. Time will fly no matter what and this will soon become a memory of another beautiful summer gone by. I better make it the best memory it can be!

Pilipinas Pasaporte

It's crazy how the brain stores things in tiny little boxes, and the faintest sound, aroma or tune can throw open the cover and let you re-live... "RE - LIVE". Those are precious moments when we realise how our brain never forgets.

For me, it all began at the immigration queue in Manila. The minute I saw "Pilipinas Pasaporte" and realised how many people indiscriminately pronounced words that had an "F" with a "P" sound (a bit like some Asians do with "R" and the "L"); hearing "M'am" and "Sir" pronounced Pinoy style; best of all: tasting my first bowl of steamed Philipino rice or pancit (noodles). This is when my head became flooded with very fond memories of un revisited since the age of 8. I grew up accompanied by Jenny, my beloved Pinoy nanny, who in her 20's went to live with my family in Spain. Jenny spoke no Spanish at first so I practised my English at home with her. She made pancit for us, and it quickly became a house favourite. And she used to take me to visit her friends some days, who would cook "adobo", "callos", "sinigang" and Pinoy steamed rice, that they brought from home. I suppose I had forgotten the Pinoy influence in my life until 22 years later I set foot in Philippines. I wish I knew what became of Jenny. She must be in her 50's by now, although I will always remember her in her 20's. The mind never forgets, it just stores ...for a while.

to be or not to be....without A/C

Air conditioning.....my love hate relationship with this modern comfort has just been overthrown! I have just realised why I should "never say never".

I've always disliked aricon...mostly cause it dries my skin and throat; sleeping with my gaping mouth open probably doesn't help and I wake up with a cardboard tongue in my mouth! I have also been known to get terribly sick with a cold everytime I've been exposed to it for long periods of time, so I have generally kept away and banned it during sleep. That, ladies and gentlemen (and oh boy will my family love this), has now changed.

The heat in the Philippines is so extreme that last week I woke up in the middle of the night and finally understood what those people mean, who say "it was so hot last night I couldn't sleep!!" ...I mean "really". One of my favourite things in life is for evenings to be so warm and balmy I can lie naked in bed at night, without covers, and doze off..sweat even. But Filipino heat and humidity is a few notches beyond comfort. My best friend is now a pai-pai like fan; a prennial fixture in my bag. Seemingly strong aircon in taxis as you step in seems to fade within minutes. "Going to the mall to get away from the heat" has acquired new meaning and significance for me. I feel like a menopausal woman with hot flashes. I've begun mixing electrolytes into my water as a matter of course cause the sweating is so extreme. I'm surprised I am not half my size by now....then again, baking banana bread on a near daily basis doesn't help in that department. But my skin looks fab. It's like being in a turkish bath 24-7. The other night, attempting to sleep in the same bed with my friend Deb, neither of us could sleep. It was 2 AM, it was HOT and we were hungry too! I offered Deb a frozen slice of toast (not much else around) She made a joke of putting them on her forehead cause it was so hot, and no joke, they thawed in less than 1 minute!! We ended up making popcorn and watching a movie....and vowing to switch on the aircon the following night, come hell or high water!

...and time just flies

It's been almost a month and despite not having updated the blog, I have kept notes in my little pocket book of things I wanted to delve into. Time is running.... fast and furious. I am nearing the end of my 1st leg of the trip...I'll be flying out to Ibiza for August and then celebrating my 30th birthday on Septemebr 14th. PHEW! Good times await. I know it in my heart. But I'll be back on the travel bug at the end of the Virgo month.... know that much.

In the meantime, the Philippines and it's people (Filipinos and foreigners living here) have taken my heart by storm like never before in my travels. I've already renewed my visa twice!...and this was never a country in my plans!!! That is what I love about travelling freely. I just don't know where life will lead, but I am open to going anywhere and everywhere at this point in my life cause I have found things just get better and better. I have felt so at home and welcomed in this country it is quite surreal. I don't know whether it's the old style names like Bonifacio or Epifanio that remind me of home, or the spit-roast suckling pig at feasts and fiestas....or whether it's the honest genuine welcome I continue to receive from total strangers. It's got me in awe. I've been to more parties here than I have in the past 8 months. I've even acquired a new skill (to be revealed when I get to Ibiza) which has got me super motivated and enthralled. I have met more gay men in this country than ever in my life....proving time and time again that even the most catholic of countries can be tolerant of the beautiful diversity the human race has to offer. It is spectacular.

We did a tour of Manila's Chinatown recently, known as Binondo, and had better fresh made dumplings than when I was in China! It was fascinating to tour this quarter of the city, the heart of commerce and business trading during Spanish colonial times. After all, it was the Chinese population that was employed to build and maintain the streets, homes, transport, cities... and to ensure the Spaniards were clothed, groomed, and wore shoes. I've always admired at how industrious the Chinese are. After a while, the Spanish Colonists realised they couldn't live without the Chinese population...and oh what a surprise, that's when trouble started. They got ousted to a ghetto and made to convert to Catholicism (otherwise they were considered heretics or unfaithful to the Spanish crown). Now, I tour Binondo and marvel at the Chinese influences in the most devote catholic churches, at the catholic and pagan themed amulets, at the chocolate factories run by chinese since the Spanish cocoa trade from Mexico, and well....a million more stories....all enhanced with Spanish names of foods, things and people on street corners. One of my favourite pictures taken is of the Binondo Chinese bridge on an American named street with a Calesa (Spanish horse drawn carriage) running past us.
Ahhhh...you ain't seen nothin' til you get to the Philippines. Pictures to come.

Chocolate Hills

Here is a picture of the famous chocolate hills of Bohol. These are uprisings of limestone rock from volcanic action, that have been carved through into these similarly shaped mounds by years and years of water erosion. They are one of the many fascinating natural wonders of this island. Another is the "tarsier" monkey, which is no bigger than the palm of your hand and has the weirdest stare I've ever seen! Lastly, a picture of "Nuts Huts", the nipa hut guesthouse on the Loboc river where I am staying. The view in this picture is from this morning's climb up the hill.

Lakawon island

These are pictures at sunset from Lakawon island, off the coast of Cadiz city in Negros; Carlo, my host, and I on the beach at sunset.