I always say that low expectations make for the best experiences. Well, the second half of my adventure in the Philippines was no exception. I had no plan. Chu Sum had gone back to Hong Kong and, in a few days, I was scheduled to go join him. But then I had a thought - I'd been to Hong Kong a lot already, but I still hadn't done much in the Philippines. I really didn't need another two weeks of the big city. So, I rebooked my flight for ten days later and found a hostel in Angeles... but I still had no plan. At the hostel, I ended up meeting the Russians (Janko, Nikita and later Yana) who were all starting big motorcycle trips around Luzon. Nikita had found a place renting motorbikes for half of what I had been paying the last few days and he offered to give me a ride there the next morning. I still didn't know where I would go, or even if I felt like going anywhere. But then it hit me... I don't need a plan, I just need some friends who already have a plan.
Sure enough, Nikita liked the idea of having a backup rider along for the journey. The next day, the 23rd of January, we picked up our bikes and started the most intense ride I've ever been on.
Riding in the Philippines is no joke. The traffic is nightmarish and some of the roads aren't even roads. Although, depending on how you look at it, I was pretty lucky as Nikita had lived on Mindanao for six months at one point before that and knew how to handle himself on Filipino roads... I, on the other hand, was learning. Well, I've always been a fan of the whole "sink or swim" mentality, so this worked out really nicely.
Whenever you enter a town in the Philippines, there's one thing you'll notice immediately - the trikes. They're everywhere... and they're slow as molasses. Oh, and they spend all day driving around towns looking for customers. This, as you can imagine, creates an unholy amount of traffic. Cars can't get past them, so they line up - 10, 15, even 30+ cars in a row. If you're a careful rider, you wait in line. If you're a crazy Russian, you race around all the cars at 100 kph until you make it to the front, or have to force your way in between two cars to avoid getting into a head-on collision with oncoming traffic. We did this like it was our job. Every time we entered a town we rode like locals who are used to navigating the chaos, except the locals didn't even ride like us - we made most of them look like little old ladies. We didn't hesitate to weave in and out of miles and miles of traffic, passing other riders as if they were sitting still. And we did this because, in the Philippines, nobody stops you. It's a free-for-all, complete anarchy, the Wild West of road law... that is, there is no law.
Our first stop was actually to pick up Yana at her local friends' place. We had lunch with their family and then rode for a few hours through the mountains up to Baguio City on the way to San Juan. It was such a beautiful ride. Up in Baguio it got really cold and humid and then, as we bombed our way down the other side of the mountain, down to the coast, the temperature increased dramatically. I can't emphasize enough how amazing these roads were. As we descended it was like sliding down a twisting waterslide. The roads were super smooth and the ever-warming air temps made it feel like stepping into a warm spa.
We soon arrived in the surf town of San Juan, settled into our hotel rooms, and started mingling with the locals. Of course, we were tired and could only manage a couple hours of chit chat... one of the guys would have gone on all night if we hadn't called it quits.
On day two, we headed off to visit our first major point of interest - Tangadan Falls. This was the first time that we were told that we had to have a so-called guide in order to enter. Fortunately, these frauds don't have control over public roads. So, we continued riding along the most rolling road I've ever been on, up and down, all the way into the middle of the jungle. It was a great ride. We then followed a trail for about 20 minutes to a particularly stunning waterfall with a rather cold, but refreshing pool.
The swim was a perfect start to the day but, a little later, our luck ran out. As we were riding through Santiago, my engine popped and I lost power. I tried to honk at the others (Nikita was a motorcycle mechanic for years back in Russia, so he really could have helped), but my horn didn't work either! It seems I just can't catch a break with motorcycles as this wasn't the first time (NZ), the second time (NZ) the third time (USA), the fourth time (Spain), the fifth time (USA), the sixth time (Switzerland), or even the seventh time (Germany)... no, this was the eigth time a motorbike had broken down on me. It immediately occured to me that my holiday had come to a rather unfortunate end. Thankfully, like all the other times, it didn't take long to get help. At first, I thought someone would have to stop, as it didn't seem to be a very central location, but then I just started pushing. And just 200 meters later I came across a mechanic! By the time the others had noticed I was missing and turned around, these guys had already gotten busy. A few minutes and 300 pesos (about seven or eight bucks for labor, spark plug and new horn) later, we were back on our way! We found a reasonable hotel down the road in Candon where we had dinner and relaxed on the balcony for the evening.
The ride on day three was twice as long the the previous day, but it was totally worth it! We arrived at the Samaguing caves in Sagada where, again, they tried to force a guide on us... after we had already hiked down into the cave. We managed to sneak in while pretending we were part of yet another group, then just did our own thing once we got in there. The caves were pretty cool, but crowded with weekend travelers. It probably didn't help that Taal volcano had just erupted and wiped out tourism down south of Manila. That night we stayed in a really nice homestay where the owner prepared wonderful local meals for us. The next morning we left to see the Hanging Coffins of Sagada.
But, as you might have guessed, we had to get guide. I even asked what would happen if we just went in on our own (as that's how it used to be anyway according to online reviews), and they said that the police would come - of course, we later found out that his was likely just a lie to get us to hire their guides. They also wanted us to go back to town first and register, but we convinced our guide to do that for us after the visit. As expected, it was just a trail into a valley where some locals had hung a bunch of coffins on a cliff. Although, we were a bit surprised to hear that this is an ongoing practice that locals occasionally still observe. When a local elects to be "burried" in this way, a group of men will run in carrying the deceased on their shoulders, stick them up on the wall, and run out.
By about midmorning we were back on the road. On our way to our next major destination, Benaue, we stopped in a little town and bought some unbelievably delicious mangoes - another major item on any tourist to-do list in the Philippines. Finally, we arrived, took our photos, and hired a couple message therapists to come sort out our increasingly painful neck problems... the 6-10 hour rides were starting to take their toll.
On day four I was running low on cash - the only way to pay for anything in the Philippines - so I rode down to the town hall where they have the only functioning ATM in Benaue. As I rolled up, I noticed a big crowd standing in front of the town hall. As I got closer, I heard a voice over a loud speaker asking me to turn off my motorbike. I quickly realized that I had interrupted the mayor giving a speech to the townspeople! He resumed, but I could hear some surprised remarks as I snuck into the ATM booth directly behind him... Filipinos are friendly, though. So, I got nothing but smiles as I worked my way back to the bike and rode off. We then rode for another 6-7 hours to Tuguegarao... needless to say, the neck pains came back with a vengeance.
Day five we rode to Santa Ana, the northernmost point on Luzon, where we caught a boat to the tiny natural paradise island called Palaui. There we enjoyed a lobster lunch (included with our very affordable homestay) and went off looking for the local waterfall. As we followed the path, we came across a random registration booth. They stopped us and, big surprise, tried to force a guide on us... even when we told them that we were just going for a walk down the beach. We managed to get away, but they protested this quite a bit. As we made our way into the village, we ran into a young boy who, yeah, wanted to make sure we had a guide. I asked why and the boy lied about there being dangerous animals on the island - our host had told us otherwise. So, I got a little bit frustrated. I asked him if he needed a guide as well, but he had no answer to that. We weren't about to pay them just for the privilege of leaving our hut, so we just continued on our way. We crossed a swinging rope bridge, went through a rice paddy, and followed the trail until we arrived at the waterfall - no guide necessary!
It rained all night and, on day six, we waited half a day for it to stop before taking the boat back to the mainland. From Santa Ana we rode for several hours to Pagudpud - a famous surf spot. On the way we slipped around on muddy mountain roads and finally witnessed one of the 2.5 billion dogs here getting hit by a car. That'll likely be someones dinner tonight... yeah, really.
On day seven we went surfing and tried to go visit another waterfall, but the rains caused us to turn back. Surfing was good, though. We had intended to go kitesurfing, but that would have cost a fortune. Luckily, as there were no tourists around, we had our pick of surfing spots.
On day eight we went on the biggest ride yet! It was actually too long... about 12 hours or so. It didn't help that we took a two-hour detour into the mountains just for fun. It also didn't help that we got lost in the mountains on our way from the west coast to Tabuc. Some of these roads were just dirt, mud and, in some cases, pieces of wood that we had to ride across in order to avoid full-on lakes of muck - this stretch of total crap went on for literally 100 kilometers.
It got late, and really cold, but we managed to hunt down a cheap hotel in the middle of the night anyway. This was a small consolation. This and the earlier experience of coasting down mountains with the engines turned off - that was great!
On day nine we rode to another surf town called Baler - the tidiest place I've seen anywhere in the Philippines. We found a hostel, had dinner there, and then, the following day, we went to Mother Falls. I probably don't even have to say it at this point but, of course, they required us to hire a guide in order to walk over to the falls. At least we were able to get her to take some video of us playing in the water. Later that day we went surfing and got the "Baler Sports Message" AKA a physical beating - they are NOT gentle.
So riding to Baler was actually only possible for one reason - COVID-19. My flight to Hong Kong had been cancelled, and this turned out to be a really good thing! Had I gone to Hong Kong, I would have been stranded because my flight to the US was also cancelled! And even then, had I successfully flown from Hong Kong to the US, I would have been quarantined for my whole two-week visit... I wouldn't have even been able to visit my family!
Anyway, thanks to COVID-19, I now had a few more days in the Philippines. What's more, I wouldn't have to take busses through nightmare traffic in order to get back into Manila, because I was now flying out from Clark in Angeles! I'll tell ya, if you ever go to the Philippines, fly in and out of Clark! Manila will suck the life out of you and your schedule.
On day 11, we returned the bikes, had dinner, another message, and got a super deal on a hotel with a pool for just 250 pesos (5 bucks) each per night!
During the last few days, we went wakeboarding, got some good deals on souvenirs at Hypermarket, sat by the pool, and found my favorite food in the Philippines - Buko pie! The Buko shake is also pretty awesome. Both are surprisingly good considering that they're made from coconut and I usually hate coconut.
On the 6th of February, day 14, it was finally time to bring it all to and end. I flew to Incheon in South Korea, which is probably the nicest airport in the world, and slept there overnight (free beds!) before continuing my journey back to the states. There I expected to finally take a break but, as I would discover, taking a break was nothing but a pipe dream.
