This week was all about extending our visa. On arrival at the airport in Manila, we received a free thirty day visa but  this wasn’t long enough for us as our flight home was in over ten weeks time. The immigration official at the airport told us that it wouldn’t be a problem to extend, we just couldn’t do it there but it could be done in any of the many Immigration Offices scattered around the country. So when we found ourselves in Panglao  where there was an office, we pointed our rented motorbike in that direction  and set off to get it sorted although we had been in the country for only about 10 days,

The Immigration Office was small, a counter with a couple of  window hatches and clear glass panel showing the airconditioned office behind with about 8 desks, computers and paper files. Most of the women seemed to be talking and joking with each other. It certainly wasn’t a hive of activity The customer side was stifling with one small fan in the corner and two rows of seats, about half of which were broken. There was a large sign on the glass panel cautioning against using profane language😮. We were told that we had to first apply for a 29 day extension (pay about €50), fill in a form including a hand-drawn map to our accommodation, leave in the passports overnight, pick up them up the following day and  then reapply for another month (pay about €100), drop the passports in again overnight and pick up the next day. It couldn’t be done in one application. The glass panel, the masks that the officials were wearing, poor English and the loud pop music being played in the office side were all barriers to understanding what was required. Most people were scratching their heads in confusion. The officials told everyone to come at 3pm to pick up the passports so there’s a queue out the door at that time. Luckily we ignored the 3pm rule and went at 2pm when it was relatively quiet. But after three lengthy visits and handing over wads of cash (exact amount in pesos only, no bank cards accepted), we have our visas until May. I swear no profane language was used in the transactions😇🤣

Caoimhin found time to do a freediving introductory course, he has great admiration for fish.  Freediving involves diving without using any equipment and is very popular in Panglao particularly with Koreans who have a couple of dive schools here  exclusively for Koreans. We both visited  the other free-dive centre, run by a very tall focused Austrian. I loved the big quote over the door and behind the pool. Know your Limits. Never Accept Them.  In the case of freediving, I both knew and accepted my limitations.  I opted for a swimming lesson in the pool instead, preferring to stay on the surface of the water….if I can😀.

The Filipinos are not fond of knives as a cutlery utensil, usually making do with  a fork and spoon. They love their fried chicken but there were barbecues on Saturday night in Panglao which were a serious meat-fest, washed down with Tanduay rum, Pilsen beer or Red Horse (a potent beer at nearly 7%)😮. Toilets in this part of the world are called comfort rooms – I’m not joking. The mosquitos in the toilets in the accompanying photo certainly looked very comfortable🤣. But usually the standard of cleanliness in most places was high.

Of all the strange and exotic fruits available here, mangoes must be the most delicious. the depth of flavour was like eating a sunset. No wonder they are the national fruit of the Philippines and were for sale on every roadside, sometimes speckled and battered but always a treat for the tastebuds. Then there’s calamansi, which look like tiny limes but are orange on the inside. They have a sour taste with a sweet after kick and are used in sauces, marinades, drinks or to squeeze over Filipino dishes. When we first saw a basket of lanzones, we thought that they were tiny new potatoes (we got excited for a minute…) but inside the thin peel were small translucent segments which were light, refreshing and tasted a little like a sweet grapefruit.  The mangosteen, a round fruit with a thick, leathery shell and soft white flesh,  were very popular but to us they didn’t really taste of anything. Ube was another fruit/vegetable that we had never seen before but it’s a purple yam that finds its way into many Filipino cakes and desserts. You can’t miss it as it gives a bright purple or indigo colour to cakes. Despite the slightly off-putting colour, it  has a vanilla flavour that’s slightly nutty, delicious in ice cream. Bananas were very plentiful and the Philippines had a novel use for the glut. They made ketchup –  bananas, red colourants and stabilisers equalled banana ketchup…..a bit sweeter than tomato ketchup but very similar.  

Despite the name, Bohol Bee Farm was a place without bees. It started out as a little concern with a few hives and grew into a big co-operative organic farm employing about 300 locals, mainly women, with people on site giving demonstrations of making leather goods, weaving baskets and making ice-cream. The bees disappeared during the pandemic (for unclear reasons) but it  has a big restaurant, where the emphasis was on locally grown food which was the best we had on the island. We ate delicious salads and mouth-watering squash bread with both a garlic spread and honey….all available to buy in the attached gift shop. But the highlight was definitely the ice-cream. I opted for chocolate (boring, I know) when there were exotic choices like spicy ginger, dragon-fruit and jackfruit. Caoimhin had the purple Ube ( the purple yam that I mentioned above.) Fantastic local development and employment.

In Panglao, the most famous beach was Alona Beach. Yes, it was beautiful but so busy with tourists and touts wanting to sell you boat tours, souvenirs and massage that one visit was more than enough for us. Quite a few of the other beaches demanded payment for entry- it wasn’t a lot, 100 pesos (€1.70)  but the principle grated a little. We spent a very enjoyable afternoon trying to get onto a beach for free, there were long stretches of beach along the southern coast of Panglao. We sped around on the motorbike, making a U-turn whenever payment was demanded until we reached an isolated spot where a lot of motorbikes parked. We walked  over a rough path through a field of goats and found out way onto the beach, the same beach where we were denied access unless we paid…..kms of uncrowded white-sand with beach bars, no touts, mainly Filipinos enjoying a swim and some karaoke(it was Saturday afternoon and Filipinos love karaoke). There was even a small wedding party on the beach. But we found driftwood and peace the further we walked, just the lapping of water and the boats bobbing on a turquoise sea.

After a week in our (relative) luxury bubble in the Portofino Resort in Panglao, it was time to head for the hills. Searching for a rented motorbike to take us there, we met Mario, a small man with a big smile who stood sipping a beer at midday on an overcast Sunday. Life was good for Mario because since Lonely Planet recommended him in their guidebook, his business was thriving . All thirty two of his motorbikes were rented out to tourists…..he raised his glass to Lonely Planet. He had only one left, a large red motorbike (155cc), the price for which kept decreasing the more we hesitated. Finally we settled on a price and zoomed off wearing helmets that smelt of sweat and wet hair. The day was damp and became wetter, travelling through villages, paddy fields and dense forests until we dripped into Fely’s homestay like drowned rats. We were told that such prolonged heavy rain was unusual in March, usually one of the driest months. We pitied the people trying to dry the rice grains which were spread out on plastic sheets by the side of the road.

Fely’s was a friendly house in a small village run by Fely and her sister Maria with some help in the shop from their 82 year old mother. All three women were widows. Fely’s husband had died suddenly from a heart attack two years previously leaving a teenage son. Fely was also a teacher in the local elementary school and taught a class of 10 year olds.  With only 16 pupils in her classroom, many Irish teachers would be envious of that pupil/teacher ratio.  Our small room was a riot of pink,  pink walls, pink mosquito net.  The rain hammered on the roof while a little stream flowed almost under the floor so we had water above and below. Maria did most of the cooking and wanted to be me, travelling around the world with a (younger) version of Kenny Rogers…she was a great fan of Kenny. 

One of the main attractions on the island of Bohol are the famous Chocolate Hills, which weren’t far from Fely’s. The view was reputedly amazing, a series of nearly two thousand cone shaped mounds stretching into the distance, formed in the dim distant past from upheaval in the coral sea and subsequently weathered into these shapes. The hills, usually turned chocolate- brown this time of year, were green courtesy of all the rain. The banks of grey cloud on the horizon the morning we visited meant that they were barely visible at all. The other attraction in Bohol didn’t disappoint us. These were the tarsiers, tiny little nocturnal monkeys that would fit into the palm of a small hand, with eyes so big that they weigh about a third of their body weight and are heavy on the cutie appeal. While guides pointed out where they were resting on the trees, the public was not allowed to get very close.

Our next stop was outside the town of Loboc where we stayed in Nuts Huts, rustic bamboo huts by the river.  Access was by a very rough road followed by a long flight of stone steps. Totally charming as long as you weren’t averse to creepy crawlies or exercise – the huts were in a deep valley by the muddy greeny river but reception and restaurant were one hundred and twenty stone steps up the hill and the bumpy roads was one hundred and two steps higher still. We loved lolling by the river, kayaking surrounded by nature, with changing light on the trees and a symphony of cloud, sun and rain overhead. So peaceful without the distraction of WiFi (no WiFi) – apart from the floating restaurants that navigated up and down the river blaring Frank Sinatra and Tina Turner but thankfully only at lunchtime from 11 to 3pm. The nights were insect-loud under our mosquito nets with all sorts of hummings and rustlings, On our first morning , we wanted to do a hike on the opposite side of the river but the boatman was otherwise engaged – he and his whole family were washing themselves in a spring just slightly downstream. He dropped the family off on the opposite bank and came over for us with just a towel wrapped around him and smelling of soap. We hiked past their humble shack of bamboo and tin roof later. The massages we got from some local women were great but so intense that I discovered some aches I didn’t know I had!😁

Its almost time to leave the island of Bohol, with its chocolate hills and cute tarsiers and head on by ferry  to Cebu about two hours away across the sea.

Thanks for reading😎