Borsa in the Bag

Oggi e' il migliore giorno per me! Sta mattina ho scoperto che ho vinto la borsa di studio per studiare l'italiano l'anno prossimo! Which means I freakin' won the italian scholarship!!!!! Yipeeeeeeee!

When I got in the office this morning, I was greeted with an email from il professore "Dear Miss LKY, I am pleased to inform you that you have been granted the Italian Government Scholarship for a period of 3 months." WOW. You can imagine me having a Little Miss Sunshine moment, shrieking in delight hugging myself and screaming down the phone at my best mate F and then my partners, short of doing cartwheels and leaping outta window! Happiness turned to shock and relief, and I cried my eyes out with joy. Unbelieveable. Dream came true finalmente!

And it was only last week that I read my horoscope which advised: "Don't bend; don't water it down; don't try to make it logical; don't edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly." - courtesy of German writer Franz Kafka. Hear hear. Let's pop the Lambrusco!

Bohol-mia

On our 3rd day, we decided to make a full day trip to Bohol in search of the beach paradise that we had been promised in the Philippines. Mactan isle was a disappointment with just man-made beaches at the resorts. The hotel did offer their own Bohol excursion which included sights like the world's smallest goggled-eyed tarsier monkeys, chocolate hills, Loboc river but at a steep 3,950 pesos!

We figured we'd do it our way since we just wanted to laze at a beach without costing us an arm and leg. However Bohol was an entirely province on its own and another island away so you could imagine our excitement at having to take a 30-min taxi ride (250 pesos) to the Cebu port and then hopping onto the extremely crowded Ocean Jet. As we arrived close to the departure time at 9.30am, there were only 'business class' seats available at 800 pesos which included a dodgy chilly lasagne and bottle of water during the 95mins journey. Pecora certainly enjoyed the jetride more than us since it was her first time.

Finally when we got to Tagbilaran at 11am, we waved off the small band of tour operators shouting "Maam, you want to see tarsier monkeys?" and jumped into an unsuspecting cab. After bargaining with the guy to 300 pesos, we rode in the worn-out car for another tiresome 30mins to and prayed that Bohol would be worth the trip. I remembered saying to N: 'This could be heaven or hell, man." The tourist office lady had pointed us to Panglao island for the best beaches and since we were starving, we picked out Bohol Beach Club among the coastal properties.

Fortunately our prayers were rewarded as we raced to the beachfront and saw one of the bluest waters, whitest coasts and clearest skies in our lives. It was assolutamente stupenda! N and I couldn't wait to jump right in - only reined in by our hunger which was easily satiated by our favourite lamb stew and chicken adobo (like our chinese-style ginger soy chicken). We only had less than 3 hours in heaven before we had to rush back to the port for the 5.30pm jet but it was still better than niente!

The next few precious hours were a bliss as we posed like Miss Universe finalists and frolicked under the blazing sun that quickly tanned our skin into a bronzy hue. We'd easily just come here next time for the calm waters and sparkling white sand. It wasn't terribly crowded too so that was good, but it was strange that we were the few ones wearing bikinis. The local women were sporting 90s-style colourful one pieces while the Korean/Jap tourists were covered up in long-sleeves and hats.

Soon time passed and we called a cab (500 pesos) to transport us back to the port in time for the return ferry - this time in 'economy' cattle class. The male jet crew actually recognised us and asked how come we were not in business class. Frankly we were too exhausted and sticky from the sweat and sea to even care and just wanted to get back to our air-con resort comfort. But first another 3 hours of travelling await - madonna! At the Cebu port, N and I braved the maddening faceless gang of taxi-drivers at the gate under the dim glow of the street lights and fought the crowds to the long line of waiting cabs. It was quite a day but hey we did it!

Overall Cebu was an experience and certainly not your average cookie-cutter tourist destination. The country was poorer than expected and the city, a grim sight with its many sad slums (next to the spanking new Expo!), rubbish/waste everywhere and general neglect in landscape. One could certainly see the have and have-not clearly.

However the people are its joy (except the horrid cab drivers!) and they have the best mangoes on this planet. We were glad for the adventures and going to places - even deemed 'unsafe' by the locals - hopping onto jeepneys, taking death-defying taxi rides and saw a piece of paradise at Bohol, but that's part of the fun being a global traveller, not a tourist. Next time, we'd just fly straight to the beach!

Gita Della Citta

After we crashed to sleep early last night and slept like logs, we got up voluntarily at 6am++ when the sun shone brightly thro' our thin-as-paper doors. Mental note to write 'please include curtains' in hotel's comment card. When we reached the breakfast table at 9am++, most of the buffet dishes were empty as everyone was up earlier but we managed to stuff ourselves with bread and egg.

Our mission today was to tour Cebu city on our own - an adventure given that we had no idea what to expect and dreaded more horrible taxi drivers ahead. Honestly we'd love to go on the jeepneys again but we waited 15mins for our metered car and bargained with the driver settling on 250 pesos for the 40mins ride to Ayala Mall at the city centre.

Apparently it was THE hangout for all of Cebu, a looming shopping icon on the tourist map. At first I thought its scale on the map was misguided but the mall really turned out to be a big-arse labryinth of shops and more shops! But we wanted more than a comforting mall. We wanted to mix culture with excitement, local eats and picks under the freakin Cebuon sun!

And we got egged on more when the kind tourist info lady told us 'Maams, Carbon Market not safe.' To prove her wrong, we flagged the first cab (which went by the meter, hurray!) and zipped to the frenzied mercato, not before pulling over at the Cebu Moument aka the Parian. We had to repeat the 'Cebu Monument' so many times to the non-English speaking driver but he couldn't understand even when we jabbed at it on the map. In the end, I told him to go to the Paa-riaaan in my best Filippino accent and it worked becos' he went 'Ahh, the Parian'.

When we got there, N and I stared at the monstrosity for 2secs and gestured for him to move on. I was already dying from the heat when we got off at Carbon Market and immediately we were waylaid by 2 trishaws and scruffy-looking boys. The surrounding streets were chaotic and we tried to stay alert while deperately blending in. What gave us away was probably me snapping away at the dried seafood stalls and the other fresh produce.

The ladies were busy shredding the vegetables, cooking and packing the tiniest individual garlic cloves into clear plastic pockets (most bizzare). N bought straw bags and these greenish olive-looking fruits seneguelas which were bitter while I contemplated how to lag back all the pile of ripe glorious mangoes. We didn't stay long but managed to tour most of it before we jumped into a cab. This time, we WANT the f@cking mall, the air-con comfort and safety net of cleanliness and order!

But we decided to check out the fort and basilica since we figured we won't be coming back to Cebu city for the rest of the trip or ever. The fort was deserted, save for the trio of blind performers and the vendors there. We could imagine it must be quite a towering feat in the old days - standing guard over the coastline - but now it is just a shell for bored shopkeepers and locals.

Next we strolled past a public singing arena in a park where the contestants were belting out evergreens under the bloody hot sun while we gained little moisture from the green mango. Luckily the basilica was not far so we survived the blinding heat and fought the crowd of street vendors at its gate. There were all these aunties wearing similar flowy outfits (not sure what is their role) as the faithful made their way into the serene cathedral.

It was a cool relief from the sun and reminded me of all the countless beautiful churches in Italia, especially my favourite Baroque-style one in Torino. As I was preparing to shoot one of the old oil scenic paintings, a cute little boy came into the picture and smiled a toothsome grin, posing for me under the big frame. The kids here are gorgeous; all doeful eyed and lively. After half an hour, we grabbed a cab back to Ayala Mall where lunch await.

Cebu is known for its lechon, which is a national dish of whole roast pig on spit. The version here is apparently different from the other provinces so we had all these hungry expectations. When we got to the food court, we found a stall devoted to lechon with its glass window splattered with the fatty juices as the server nonchalantly chopped up the meat. Nice. Peeping at the pig's head, we braced ourselves for porky delight, which was rather porky. Actually just porky. N took a deepfried curly intestine and spat it out.

So much for lunch. At the supermarket, we packed our trolley with dried mangoes (best!), banana chips (da bomb!), otap biscuits (Shamrock brand), cute baby-sized toiletries, chewing gum and una bottiglia di Lambrusco per me, before calling it a day and caught a cab back across the bridge to Mactan isle at sunset.

Cebu citta

Over the long Labour Day weekend, N and I hopped onto Cebu Pacific flight to Cebu, our first foray into the Philippines since we have more or less exhausted most options within the 4hr flying radius. We did not have any expectations, except of the breathtaking beaches and sea since Cebu is famosa for beautiful diving spots. Things didn't get off to a great start, with our already ridiculous midnight flight 're-timed' (a nicer term for freakin delayed!) to 2am so we killed 3 hrs in the blindingly bright Budget Terminal.

Tired as hell, we had to endure almost 4hrs of flying in an upright stiff seat (cannot recline lor) senza breakfast. Upon reaching Cebu at 6am, an airport security guy radioed a cab for us while we fought off offers from other limousine services. A sign of things to come was when the driver refused to go by the meter and quoted 300 pesos (S$9+). He tried desperately to make small talk but we sulked, pissed being ripped off so early (mi hanno fregato!). Little did we know that there'd be more taxi woes to come.

Maribago Bluewater resort was fancier than we expected and we managed to check in earlier into the new spa wing which housed our expansive deluxe room, walk-in closet/toilet and bathtub/shower yard. I surpised N when I took Pecora (our office pet) out from my bag and tucked her into my grande queen bed. Yes, even sheeps need an off day!

We got some winks and woke up at noon for lunch at the Algero restaurant by the pool, while eyeballing the mixedbag of Korean tourists, Russian men and Hong Kong couple. There was only one other Singaporean couple at the resort - a COM (Chinese Old Man) and PYT (Pretty Young Thing), whom we swore never left the resort and spent all their time video-taping each other at the pool. They have 2 shockingly matching swimsuits - one in kinky blue and the other in bright orange.

'Matching' seemed to be the keyword for 2 other couples - seen spotting similar striped shirt-white pants combos. The other Korean couple wore a dress and a shirt made from the same fabric. Scary - gave new meaning to 'they're cut from the same cloth'. They must love each other so much that it's ok to stomach the public humiliation together. Anyway we rather focused on our kambing stew, grilled stuffed cuttlefish and nicoise salad washed down with San Miguel and fresh mango shake (I had 2 each day!).

We hurried to the beach for our postcard-perfect beach paradise but found a horrid man-made bay and breakwater, struggling over a muddy-rocky sea bed. Before we finished our mango ice cream, some 'sea urchins' approached us for private boat trips to the nearby isles. The tanned locals quoted us 2,500 pesos (S$75+) but we were only willing to part with 2,000, to which they agreed too quickly.

We hopped onto one of the many lightweight 'banca' - a long slim whitewashed boat flanked by 2 skeletal 'wings'. The crew of 6 hanger-ons soon tried to sell us handmade shell souvenirs but we politely declined the aunties and gazed at the blue sea instead.
The guide (a deadringer for the lead actor in Hotel Rwanda) was trying hard to make small talk too but we couldn't help being guarded as it seemed they were more keen to off load more cash from us.

When we reached our pitstop, he said it was a private isle and asked for 150 pesos as 'entrance fee'. We gave him our best ridiculed look and said we won't pay more than 100 pesos to which he readily said ok! Did they think we were idiots? The isle was a huge disappointment as the extreme low-tide revealed 50m of squishy sea bed, slugs and sea urchins, and we couldn't find a spot to soak in the blazing sun.

Our disappointment showed clearly and Mr Rwanda tried to appease us by showing us the variety of starfishes - from small brown ones and large blue fellows to a boxy round species. Before we could stop him from cracking open a baby urchin, he did so and tossed the poor thing away. Back on the banca, the women tried in vain again to sell us more touristy shell jewellery but we just want the sea! Just then he moored the boat in the deep waters and we jumped right in - even N who was afraid to swim in the open! Ahhh. This was what we were waiting for.

Our legs felt the tinkling sensations of the warm and cold currents, as we floated effortlessly in the blue waters and clung onto the long white poles; shaped like gigantic white asparagus. The 'crew' watched us for a second, got bored and turned their attention to a card game for the next half hour, while we blissfully chatted till wrinkly under the sun. As we reached shore, Mr Rwanda unabashedly asked for additional 'tips' for the boys, claiming he didn't take any commission - madonna!

We cooled off at the bar with more beer and mango shake and watched the Korean couples act cute and posed for the camera against the setting sun. Ok, I admit it, we also ogled at the sporty local boys, especially 'The Butt' who was riding the jetski like a rodeo cowboy. The people are gorgeous here, with exotic names like Pretcel, Delce and Mercedes, and lovely tagalog accents that we were desperately trying to perfect - cos both of us are great mimics as well as clowns, as you can tell (FYI, N does a brilliant Jap and Thai, while I excel at Italian and Indian).

In the evening, we asked the sweet receptionist Mercedes to call a metered cab for us to Sutukil (as opposed to a steep 600 pesos for limo service) and her reponse was 1) metered cab? 2) Sutukil?! as if she had never heard of both before. Apparently it was deemed 'unsafe' for us but we insisted on going anyway since our other Filippina friend recommended the local dining enclave of seafood eateries. This cab driver was no better and asked for 30 pesos more for 'parking'. Pui!

We got there in 20mins and found a dingy lane of seafood holes in the wall, bearing tiled counters of fresh fish, shellfish and seaweed that were on display for guests to pick and decide how they should be cooked. FYI - Su-tu-kil means 'sugba' for grilled, 'tinula' for soup and 'kinilaw' for raw, sashimi Cebuon-style. If we were in Japan, we'd pick 'kil' easily but here we'd rather stick to the cooked items.

One of the joints, aptly named 'No Problem Restaurant', was our choice as it was bustling (actually more like loud with the karaoke from next door, guess music courses thro' their blood!). The eatery's tagline was 'Take.Eat.Easy' - just the way we liked it. Our starter was prawns soup, a tad salty, boiled with fish bones. Then came the grilled squid, fried whole fish (detected a hint of fermented sauce) and the sparkling fresh 'latoh' seaweed salad (1,000 pesos/ S$30).

It was easily the highlight of dinner with its caviar-like pop-in-the-mouth sensation and mild fresh-saltwater taste, like eating fish roe. The chubby chatty waitress wearing a hairnet informed us that it was good for the throat so we lapped it up with our San Miguel Light birra and cigarettes. Hahaha. Large groups of families were cleaning plates after plates of seafood on long tables/benches in the big dining hall and soon we were the last ones left.

After buying some souvenirs and mangoes, we popped into a guitar shop with the cutest mini guitars that caught my eye. I bought a kid size one for 1,000 pesos (S$30) for Patzy cos he was an insane collector. At the shop next door, the guy was like 'You beautiful, like Filippina' but hey sorry dude, I already bought my strings so no need for flattery. To burn our calories, we joined the flock of locals at the Mactan Shrine before deciding to hitch a jeepney back for 6 pesos - such fun!