We awake on a Saturday and make our way to our favorite Manila attraction one last time: The Robinson Square mall. We have by far the best meal yet, not coincidentally the most expensive, then grab our bags from the hostel and make our way via Grab to the bus station. After consulting travel routes, guide books, the internet and our souls we have decided to head to Alaminos, a city in Western Luzon that is the gateway to the Hundred Islands National Park. The bus ride takes around 7 hours through absolutely beautiful country before dropping us off in the middle of town, an unknown distance from our hotel because I’m bad at planning. It is time to take a tricycle.

In addition to all the standard modes of public and private transit: buses, ferries, taxis, Grab; there are two additional options that seem to be unique to Philippines: the Jeepney, and the tricycle. The Jeepneys are converted US Army jeeps left behind after World War II that provide cheap mass transportation through and in between cities. They are colorful, stop wherever someone waves or wants out, and run routes completely indecipherable to me. The second option, used for traveling within a city or area, are the tricycles. These motorcycles with homemade sidecars ferry up to three people wherever you want for as much money as the driver thinks he can get away with. The ride is uncomfortable, doubly so if you are a six foot three inch white male, but efficient. Weaving in and out of traffic and using both roads and non roads, the tricycle is going to get you where you need to the fastest, but your back may not appreciate the time and money saved.

The day after our thrilling tricycle ride we have breakfast at the hotel and then head out for the islands. Hundred Islands National Park actually comprises 123 or 124 islands, depending on the tide. The islands themselves are over 2 million years old and littered with coral reefs. In order to explore the islands you have to get a boat. We are aided in our search by a definitely not trying to get a commission local who makes several phone calls before saying he can’t find us a small boat like we have requested because none are available. When we begin to look elsewhere another boat is miraculously found. Our captain, a young man approximately 19 years old has clearly just woken up and is likely hungover, but nevertheless agrees to shepherd us about the islands. We first head to a floating raft to go helmet diving, which is exactly what it sounds like. The experience is honestly amazing, allowing us to walk along the sea bed with our heads surrounded by air. We see schools of tropical fish and several giant clams. We return above the water to find our boat captain asleep, so our dive master wakes him with a bucket full of water. Next up comes a 20 foot jump into a cave full of bats. Luckily the line moves fast enough that I don’t have time to think about the upcoming leap, basically the opposite of my much higher and much pondered jump in Seville. We return from our jump to find our boat captain once again asleep, luckily a neighboring boat bumps into him and he sits up long enough to see us waving from shore. He picks us up and takes us snorkeling.

Have you ever been snorkeling before? I thought I had. I mean I had worn a snorkel and mask set before. And I had swam with my back above water and my face down. So I had snorkeled before. Then I came to this park, with its protected and preserved coral reefs and it’s crystal clear water and learned what it meant to go snorkeling. The fish and the water and the coral and everything was so perfect I never wanted to leave. This desire to never leave the water would prove disastrous for my lower back. We return to the boat, wake the captain, and make our way to Pilgrimage Island. This large island promises the best views of the park if you’re willing to climb the 263 steps to the top. We did, though the trip taught us that we are far behind the fitness levels of our fellow Filipino pilgrims. Along the way giant statues take us through the life and trials of one Jesus the Mesiah. One showing the last supper is particularly impressive. Perhaps it is the weight of our sins slowing our pace. Perhaps it is the blistering sun and 263 steps. Either way we reach the top, say hello to the giant Jesus statue and take the required selfies. We return down, wake the captain, and head to shore.

The next day our plan is to head to Tagaytay, an inland city next to Taal Lake and thus also Taal Volcano. I have deduced via the internet that this is technically possible and that the route goes through Manila, everything else about the journey seems open to interpretation. But I am confident that this is a solvable problem. So after breakfast and another exhilarating tricycle ride, we take the first bus to Manila.

A word on public transport. Outside of the US, Northern Europe, and as we would later learn, Singapore, public transport does not operate with any real schedule. “Buses don’t leave on time in the US either” you say smugly, demonstrating your lack of travel experience. Buses in the US leave late, buses in SE Asia leave when the driver decides. The driver has never seen a schedule and doesn’t even understand the question you are asking. Bus stops are imperceptible and may just be determined by where enough people are standing next to the road. Whole towns may be skipped if the driver decides no one needs to stop there. You telling the driver you need to stop in a town does not necessarily factor into this decision. Direct transports, such as vans and shuttles, leave when they are full. In Asia, and indeed in much of the world, trying to travel with a plan, or a timetable, is a fool’s errand. This does not stop the Germans from trying and failing and cursing the third world.

We arrive in Manila and walk among the various bus companies only to be told the bus to Tagaytay leaves from a different terminal. We get a taxi to that terminal and listen to our driver who speaks very little English ramble in a mixture of Tagalog and English incoherently at us anyways. He takes us to a bus heading to Taytay. We want to go to Tagaytay we tell him. I show him on the map. He curses our poor pronunciation and tries to find the bus. There is no bus. We tell him we need to go to Tagaytay. He finally determines to take us to a van. He demands more money, we lose the argument and pay. We line up for the van only to be told the van only operates on Saturday and Sunday. It is Wednesday. Megan handles this information with beauty and grace and no small amount of cursing. Defeated we look for hostels and book one more day in Manila.

The next day we go to the correct bus station and get on the correct bus going to Taygaytay. I am moved to the handicap seat because I physically, literally do not fit between the bus seats. The rest of the journey is grand. Taygaytay is 2000 feet higher than Manila and is much cooler. Perched above the rim of mountains overlooking Lake Taal, it is a popular retreat from the heat for Manila locals, and is priced accordingly. From the moment we arrive until the moment we leave we are accosted by tricycle drivers offering us rides down to the lake and a boat when we get there. We avoid them for the evening, go over budget on an admittedly very good dinner, and head to bed.

The next day it is my birthday, and I have decided I would like to hike the volcano. The tricycle ride down to the lake takes a half hour down an extremely winding road that frequently warns travelers about the risk of landslides. We are dropped off next to a gazebo where we book a boat and also order food, because Megan is hungry and when Megan is hungry you feed her. The meal ends up being the most expensive meal we have in the Philippines. While waiting on this food a thunderstorm drops about 30 feet of water on us, but our gazebo keeps us safe. We board our boat and head out to island.

We are offered horses and guides and water, but we have sufficiently googled the hike for the first time in our lives and know the first two are unnecessary and the third we have. The hike takes us through thick forest but the path is clearly marked. We reach the top, more than a little exhausted, and are greeted with one of the most amazing views I have seen in my life. The volcano, in the middle of the lake, contains inside of it another lake. Surrounded on all sides by towering cliffs, it looks like the final resting place of an ancient and powerful artifact from an Indiana Jones movie. After exploring around the rim for a while we head back down the volcano and return to town, where we eat pizza because it is my birthday.

The next day takes us on a sporadic and not at all direct journey to Batangas, a journey that involves one of the aforementioned vans that leave when they are full. After barely squeezing ourselves and our bags into the front seat we wait over an hour for departure. When the bus has one seat left to fill we are told that actually, the bus has two seats left, and one is next to us. Seeing the predicament we are, ie the complete impossibility of another person fitting on our bench, the driver kindly allows us to purchase the final seat to avoid discomfort and pain. It is anyways. The next day we take the nine hour ferry to Caticlan and when it arrives 12 hours later we take one last ferry to our final destination in the Philippines: Boracay.

Boracay is touristy and expensive and overly commercialized and absolutely breathtaking. The island has long been legendary for it’s perfect white sand and clear water, both of which were true. But it also has an under construction feel. Part of this is intentional, the island had become so polluted and dirty that in 2018 the government shut the entire island down to tourism for six months to clean up and modernize the facilities and appearance of the island. Many environmental improvement efforts were made as well and the results are impressive. Reopened to tourism in 2018, many of the projects are still underway. Nevertheless what exists on Boracay now is an island paradise complete with expensive resorts, tropical drinks, and numerous locals offering me weed. Everything you could want in the tropics. Our two days there were fantastic, and left us feeling extremely happy that we had added the Philippines to our trip. While on the island we played King’s Cup with some French guys by their rules, had an wonderful conversation with an Iranian American who had also recently become devoted to travel, and met the first two Oklahomans I have ever met abroad. The Philippines were amazing. Visit the Philippines.

Next up: Singapore, big lizards, and a tale of two airports.