The Eye of the Storm

The pictures don't go with the story at all, but they're good visuals. The first one is the view from my usual spot with an unusually few amount of people around. The second is what I see a few steps away from my spot by the railing that is directly above the beach. On with the update.

A couple days ago Mark had a few friends arrive from Australia. When I caught wind of his plan to take them golfing, I expressed enough interest to earn me an invitation to go with the three of them (and in doing so forfeit going to a new dive site).
I discovered later that due to the water conditions, the divers made it to the dive site and sat on the boat for a few minutes before deciding to turn back to shore. While they were doing that, I was having a much different experience.

Thirty minutes of winding along the bumpy mountain roads landed our jeepney high up the mountain. We bounced our way up the one-lane road leading to Ponderosa, the only golf course within driving distance. When we climbed out the jeepney's open back door, there was a mutual agreement that the conditions were too wet and rainy to follow through with the original plan. Instead I found myself sipping a mango shake sheltered from the rain talking to the 94 year-old owner with Mark and his two friends. This spot was gorgeous in the haze and I can only imagine its stunning beauty during favorable weather conditions. After a short stroll to the first tee, I was looking out over 50 yards of a steep hill covered with dense short growth leading to a short fairway (decorated intentionally with a small water hazard) and after a small patch of more thick ground cover, the green. The entire hole from tee-off to green was surrounded by jungle. I estimated that I would need at least 18 balls to complete the course. I insisted that Mark bring me back when the weather takes a turn for the best.

Making our way back to the jeepney, we agreed to take a detour to get some good Italian food on our way home. The road was much more treacherous on this leg of the journey. I gazed out the window at the magnificent mountains as the jeepney bounced along the ill-paved road, careening around every sharp turn. Pavement turned to mud and before long I realized roosters were jumping out of the way as we went splashing through massive puddles. At long last, the trusty jeepney came to a full stop, cuing our exit. We arrived at a deserted restaurant and my stomach demanded I order something substantial. As we were waiting for the pizza, I nearly lost my appetite when a small gentle yet frail stray dog came to our table. When she sat down under the table to rest, I noticed a massive open wound or growth on her underside. It was about the size of a racquetball and red in color where the dirt and sand hadn't yet covered it. I thought immediately of my open scabs all over my legs and made a point to keep them as far from this poor friendly dog as possible. When the food finally came, my mind worked hard to forget the stray under the table and also overlook the fact that I don't like ham or mushrooms. I inhaled my share of the delicious true Italian-style pizza and turned my seat around to look at the water beneath the gloomy sky realizing that an ugly day in the Philippines is still a gorgeous day in my book.

On the way back to the dive resort, my focus was drawn beyond the back door of the jeepney. I fell into a hypnotic state hanging onto a cool metal bar and staring out the open door. It seemed as if an hour passed as I watched miles of dirt paths, bumpy paved roads, and puddles constantly swerve and shrink away into the distance while far-off hazy mountains swung into and out of my view, slowly fading into the clouds. After seeing the world shrink away for so long, I felt like I was in some dreamland where everything in my sight was slowly inching toward me when I finally stepped off the moving vehicle. Walking back to the resort with a bit of a sway to my step and arms raised several inches higher than usual, I realized that even though the weather did not cooperate and I didn't get to go diving, I had an incredible time being out.

Coming Up for Air

My stomach was ultimately the culprit that cut my relaxation short. I appeased the hunger by ordering some chicken adobo over rice. Before the food arrived I was invited by a plump friendly German fellow to share a drink with him. Throughout the course of the evening I ended up meeting several people who work at the dive resort. Among them was Mark Cox, a Welsh tech diver whom served with the British Armed Forces and worked as a bodyguard for notable celebrities such as Kevin Costner (I must reiterate how incredible Dances With Wolves is: utterly brilliant). Needless to say he has a menacing physique which is why I was overcome with relief when he deemed me an "intelligent American" after passing his simple test of naming the capital cities of the UK (aside from Wales). After the meal I struggled to keep my eyes open as I prepared for bed. Through the exhaustion, I felt a faint but very distinct sense of satisfaction having made it all the way to Sabang and meeting several great people along the way. As I desperately tried to fall asleep in the boiling room cooled only by a single fan, I knew that countless adventures laid before me. I didn't have a clue what they might be, but I knew without a doubt that the stepping stone I was currently resting on represented the beginning of my nomadic year to come.

Sabang at Last

I was very tense as I watched one of Bong's friends carry my backpack with my dive computer, my laptop, and my camera against my better judgment. I was watching him like a hawk as we pushed our way through the crowds unsure of what I would do in my overheated exhausted state if he were to bolt. We finally made our way to the friend's car and after stuffing my bags in the back were forced to jam 4 people in three seats in the back. Along the way I told stories of life back home while we feasted upon fruit that Bong bought at a roadside market. I was concerned for only a moment when I saw the fruit stand crawling with ants but then remembered the phrase “when in Rome…” and proceeded without second thoughts. Though packed like sardines in the back seat of a vehicle pitching back and forth, we managed to share plenty of laughs. All the while I couldn’t keep myself from glancing out the windows and commenting on the beautiful landscapes. As far as my eyes could see there was green until it met the overcast sky. I saw fields, forests, jungles, and everything in between. If the Philippines has an excess of any one thing, it’s palm trees.

As much as I enjoyed the scenery and company, eventually the car rolled to a stop at which point I was to take a jeepney (I’ll talk about them at some point later) to Sabang while they continued. We said our goodbyes and I hopped into the back of the jeepney that would quickly fill beyond capacity before dropping me off near my resort. Stepping onto the streets of Sabang for the first time and my first impression was one of utter confusion. Without knowing where I was going I allowed a local to take one of my bags and show me the way and boy was I glad I did. I followed him a hundred yards down a narrow street (which I later learn is the main road) lined with wall to wall stores set just behind a sidewalk that blended right into the road on either side. He made a left turn and we walked carefully avoiding the puddles down an alley with smaller stores and food stands. Several twists and a few turns later I followed him up the stairs to the smiling faces of Captain Gregg’s Dive Resort that led me to my room shown here.

The moment I was alone, I closed my door and let the bed catch me as I fell in a swirl of exhaustion and relief. Finally in a bed, I was able to completely drop my guard and catch a refreshing and much needed breath of air. The relaxation did not last very long, but it was precisely what I needed.