DAY 13
I wanted C to see Bohol, one of my two favorite places in the country that I've been to so far, and so we planned a trip to one of the most beautiful places in the world. (By the way, my other favorite destination is Batanes.)
Our vacation did not go off to a good start. Although the locals warned us that commuting to Alona Beach will take longer than the 20-minute taxi ride, I took a chance at it because the taxi fares were preposterous (500-600 pesos). My decision did not agree with C. And I have to admit that he was right
this time.
First, we took a tricycle from the airport to the Dau Bus Terminal. Wallet damage: 40 pesos. Time elapsed: 5-10 minutes. Satisfaction: OK.
At the terminal, we boarded a small bus. Fare to Alona Beach was 25 pesos per head. The bus was an unbranded, locally-manufactured thing, like our jeepneys. We watched as the driver and
konduktor piled sacks of rice and
kartons of groceries on the rooftop. As a
feeling turista, this amused me because it reminded me of the stories my Boholano mother used to tell about provincial life on the island.
Ten minutes after we settled in the bus, it took off. It wasn't filled to capacity so it felt like all of us ten or so passengers had the bus to ourselves. A fresh breeze blew in through the windows and I gave myself a pat on the back for being such a smart traveler.
The bus rode through the city streets (which, according to my research, it would) and after making a few turns, it slowed down in what seemed like a bus stop. Then the driver killed the engine.
What's happening?
In the next 20 minutes, passengers came, taking the empty seats and squeezing in their cargo in between legs, under the seats, and on the already-protesting rooftop. The
konduktor 'added' a few extra seats using wooden planks to form bridges on the aisles. After all the visible air space in the bus have been occupied, the bus
then officially started its route.
To sum it up: we left the airport at around 3:00 and arrived at Alona Beach at 5:20.
Holy head-banging tarsier!
* * *
After dumping our stuff at the hotel, we went out to look for food. Alona Beach is like a smaller, quieter, less glamorous (and therefore less dirty) version of Boracay. The weather at this time is perfect, not too hot and it's not raining.
We went through all the menus of the restaurants on the beach and finally settled at
Trudis Place. C said he had read some good reviews.
We ordered the vegetable curry (mine), chicken curry, calamares, and pineapple fried rice.
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| One of the reasons I fell in love (obsessed, actually) with Indian cuisine a long time ago. |
After dinner, we moved to the bar where C had his fill of
San Miguel Pale Pilsen and Jim Beam. For myself, I got a Black Russian.
Despite the afternoon misadventure, we had an over-all great day. Food and alcohol can do that.
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| Vodka and coffee. Strong and sexy. |