The Circle Hostel, La Union: Amidst Artists And Adventurers

I woke up next to someone new. And I wasn't sure if we were even introduced.

The scent of salty hair hung in my nostrils, and for a moment, I couldn't recall where I was. I tried to rise but a pang in my head made me plop back down the bunk. The pain disabled my brain, completely. I rolled over to my other side and came face to face with a wall made of bamboo strips. Beyond which was a figure — awake and moving about —  I caught sight of between the tiny gaps.

I watched mindlessly for a while.

There are no strangers here.
Berths and personal spaces.  

Was brought back to my senses minutes later when I heard a constant shuffling of feet. Lots of feet. I managed to sit up and saw the strangers I rode with, on a land journey of almost six hours the previous night. All just outta bed, and were nameless to me at that point but I greeted each with an inaudible "g'morning".

So I finally remembered where in the world I was, and how mad I was for traveling to La Union straight from Boracay. The heady concoction of eight hours on a vessel plus eight hours in vans surely was the culprit for my hammered head.

The brekkie nook, right by the locker area.

 The lounge/common area upstairs.

I spotted a familiar face. The figure from the other side of the wall, I soon found out, was fellow travel blogger and my homegurl Christine of JovialWanderer.com. She who managed to convince me to pursue the trip even if I already begged off days earlier. Well, she and Aldous of AldousAteTheWorld.blogspot.com who organized the weekend bloggers' shindig.

We, along with four other bloggers, were checked in The Circle Hostel, La Union. We arrived about half past three that morning. In which time I randomly chose among the bunks assigned for the group and passed out right away.

Hammocks for rent. Such cozy cocoons.
This lattice wall spoke to me. So I just had to try it.  

The Circle Hostel La Union is a very affordable hostel for both surfers and non-surfers, that sits on a lot away from highway noise but just two hundred meters from the beach. Its layout is set up with the backpacker culture in mind. The open plan structure — having only 2 bunk rooms, 1 hammock area and 1 lounge/common area — paves way for interaction between guests. Bed in the bunk room (has privacy curtain and mosquito net) is P450 (about $10), and a hammock is P350 (about $8).

Facilities: Free WiFi (common area), lockers (bring your own padlock or rent one), toilet and bath.

A towel may be hired for P40, with a P100 deposit.

Day use of facilities is a pocket friendly P150.

 Anyone can grab a bucket of paint and send a message through art.

Couldn't help it.

"There are no strangers here.", says on their website.

True enough, our motley band of bloggers congregated with other guests for an uncomplicated power brekkie of pandesal all-you-want with two choices of spread. I introduced myself to the rest of our party: Samantha of greenspired.wordpress.com, RD of rdllarena.com, Rhea of rheabue.com, and Kat of katvaldez.com.

Everyone was up for surfing. Except me. 

As the sun inched higher, the crowd at the lounge thinned, group by group. Ours headed off as well, led by one of The Circle Hostel's owners Rafael Oca, to catch the early waves.

Not exactly what we were hoping for.

 Brief lesson from Surf Star School Of Surfing.

The waves, we were told, were too wild for us beginners. We then parked our arses on the sand, thinking we'll prolly just call it a day and start chugging beer at 8 in the morn (Okay, that was just me thinking!). But because we saw other beginners braving the shoulder-height waves, the rest said they might as well surf.

So they did, after a brief lesson from Surf Star School Of Surfing.

I watched each one attempt and stand and fall and laugh. And found myself wanting to attempt and stand and fall and laugh too. 

So I did. I was able to stand on the board on my first attempt and I was the most surprised of all. I felt so victorious that after the first ride, my thoughts went back to beer.

First and almost last attempt.

From left: Christine, RD, me, Aldous, Samantha, Kat and Rhea.

And beer happened during lunch at Gefseis Greek Grill. Christine and I had to bail out later that day so we took the opportunity to get to know more about the individuals in our group. Individuals from different niches. Over platters of souvlaki, we discovered common interests and frustrations. We shared stories that, although very random, entertained everybody on the table. We made friends.

There really are no strangers. Just friends we have not met yet. The Circle Hostel is out to prove that. Come spend the night, leave your inhibitions behind. And prepare to meet a new circle.

How to get to The Circle Hostel, La Union: Visit this page for info http://www.launion.thecirclehostel.com/location


The Circle Hostel La Union
Urbiztondo, San Juan
La Union,Philippines
www.launion.thecirclehostel.com


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Backpacking Maldives (Or, What Have We Gotten Ourselves Into?!)

Oh the spell of eternal summer. Either we're under it or we seek it. Or it seeks us.

Like how a $0.6 ticket to Male presented itself to me one oddly cold October morning. Hubby and I purchased tickets in a heartbeat. And debate followed soon after. Shoestring budget or splurge?

Well, we kinda did both. Though our budget wasn't exactly shoestring-y by Southeast Asia standards and our splurge was limited to only one night in an entry level luxury resort. We dipped our toes in local communities. And wriggled our toes in the surrounding waters of a posh resort as well. The varied experiences helped us gain a well-grounded perception of what Maldives really is. Not just as a tourist destination, but as a nation.

Just outside our room, a slice of sandy heaven. Eriyadu Island Resort, North Male Atoll.  

I say break that bank to see the two sides of a coin. But if your bank's already uhm, shattered into pieces, then our rough guide below might just help you spend wisely.

Fast Facts

Official Name: Republic of Maldives

Religion: Islam

Language: Maldivian Dhivehi
Country Code: +960
Maldives Standard Time: +5 hrs GMT
Electricity: 220V, Euro plug
When to go: September to May

Maldives For The Pinoy Backpacker

Philippine passport holders get free visa on arrival for 30 days. No form to fill out. No space-consuming visa sticker either. Immigration officers simply stamp passports upon arrival. No questions asked. No "Haalu kihineh?". 

It would be wise to have a copy of your flight out and proof of sufficient funds (either a confirmed hotel reservation or US$100 + $50 per day in cash). We were not asked for any of these.

Do not attempt to sneak in chicharon. Importing pork products into Maldives is forbidden. Alcohol too.

Booking Accommodations

So how cheap is cheap? Make that, how expensive is cheap?

According to the article Backpackers Invade Exclusive Island Paradise, "Since a reform under the country's first democratically-elected president Mohamed Nasheed in 2009, Maldivians have been allowed to open their own guesthouses on populated islands.". And Sundhara Palace guesthouse in capital city Male which opened September last year was cited as an example. It mentioned a $30 rate for a basic en-suite accommodation per night, but did not indicate if it's per head. Nor if it includes 10% service charge, $8 "bed tax" (charged per guest regardless of age) and Tourism Goods and Services Tax.

Yep, that's about 18% + $8 on top of the published rate on booking sites. And if you pay by credit card at the hotel, there's an additional 3.5%.

Our $70+ room in Hulhumalé Inn.  

In Male and reclaimed island Hulhumalé (adjoining Hulhulé Island where Malé International Airport is located) standard price for a double room is $55-$70 exclusive of service charge and taxes. We stayed for two nights in Hulhumalé Inn ($70 a night for 2 adults and a child). It's near the beach, quite near the airport, and has WiFi!

If you intend to venture further for some snorkeling, you may want to stay on Maafushi Island, an inhabited island in South Male Atoll. Relatively near the capital. Its beach, though not extremely pretty, is natural unlike Male's and Hulhumalé's. Rooms in guesthouses start at $40-50 exclusive of service charge and taxes. 

Because we only paid about $4 for three Kuala Lumpur-Male roundtrip tickets (and because it was our anniversary), we agreed on splurging for a night at Eriyadu Island Resort in North Male Atoll. We paid $400 for a beachfront superior room (they won't let us stay in a standard room because we're three). Included taxes and all that crap plus brekkie and dinner. The resort's house reef is stunning! Worth every buck.

Currency

Currency: Rufiyaa (15.45 MVR = 1 USD). Dollar bills are widely accepted.

If you're gonna be whisked to a resort upon arrival, withdraw cash at the airport because ATMs are not available on the islands. And if the ATM doesn't dispense small bills, exchange your dollars. You'll need them for tips.

Getting Around

If your destination is the capital, from the airport you could simply walk out of the arrivals hall and head to the public ferry dock. Ferries to Male leave every 10-15 minutes at daytime. Costs $1 and takes 15-20 minutes. Roving cabs in Male's got a flag-down rate of $1.30, and there's a $0.3 charge per bag on top of that.

If you're going to Hulhumalé, there's a public bus which operates on a schedule. Costs only $1, however, only one item of luggage is allowed per person. Public bus can be found to the right of the international arrivals area. No roving cabs there, but your guesthouse could book a pickup service. The minivan will pool guests of various guesthouses at the arrivals so expect to wait.

 Airport's arrivals hall. Transfer desks of resorts.

Transfers to island resorts are arranged by the resorts themselves, and payment may be on top of the accommodation rate. Speedboat transfer's price, of course, depends on the distance. Sometimes on the number of people aboard. A guesthouse in Maafushi gave us a quote of $185 + tax (10% Service charge + 8% TGST) one way for three people. $300 + tax (10% Service charge + 8% TGST) for round trip.

I know, I know. Darn it. Transport's even pricier than the rooms.

There are a few islands that can be reached by passenger ferries. Only costs $2. Ferries service Maafushi (trip takes an hour and half). I believe there's only one trip per day though. And not available on a Friday. They depart/arrive at Villingili Ferry Terminal in Male. Which means if you're coming from the airport, you have to take the ferry from Hulhulé to Male first.

In case you're wondering, seaplane transfers could cost $200 + tax (10% Service charge + 8% TGST + your sanity and/or your soul) one way.

Dining Out

Male's got a great range of restaurants aimed at tourists. Prices aimed at tourists too. At the airport, Burger King (opened June 30 last year) sells meals at $10-$12. Neighbor Thai Express offers dishes that are also priced at $10 (their Pad Thai's pretty good).

 Waiter said it's made of fish and vegetable. Didn't know he was referring to a chili pepper. Paired this with sweet sticky rice. Lost my sense of taste for hours.

Local fast food can be bought from small cafes called hotaa  or sai hotaa (teashop). Hotaas serve Maldivian quick bites such as fried samosas (pastry with savory filling) which are locally called bajiyaa, gulha (ball-shaped dumplings made of tuna, flour, coconut, onion and chili), and roshi (Maldivian roti). Meals cost only $1-1.50. Some hotaas also serve unappetizing-but-cheap burgers. Diners share communal tables, so it's the ideal environment to have a chitchat with locals. Similar to India and Sri Lanka, hotaas are dominated by male customers.

Bottle of water is $.50-$1 in Male and Hulhumalé convenience stores.

Tip: Bring bottles of drinking water to resorts if taking speedboat/passenger ferry (luggage weight is checked before boarding seaplanes) cause a bottle of water in an island resort is $4-5!

Brekkie at Eriyadu Island Resort. Roshi (Maldivian roti) and mas riha (tuna curry)!

In island resorts, meals are usually served buffet style. In Eriyadu Island Resort where we stayed for a night, a la carte dishes are not offered in the restaurant. We were charged $30 per person for buffet lunch, a good deal for such resort. I ate tuna in every meal.

Maldivian curry dishes are tongue-numbing, and tastes similar to Sri Lankan curries.

Experiences You Spend Money On

Granting Male's few attractions (Hukuru Miskiiy, National Museum, Republic Square) don't interest you (and you got the spare dough), these might:

Whale Submarine 'dive' for non-divers. Designed and constructed in Karlsrhue, Germany. It can carry fifty passengers to a dive depth of 150 meters. Expensive at $85 for a 45-minute dive (sub is anchored, only goes up and down). But hey, you get to tell people you've ridden a sub! Great for families with kids. Dives in every hour and a half, day and night, starting 9:00 AM 'til 8:00 PM.

 If staying in an island resort, choose one that has a good "house reef" so you need not book a day trip to elsewhere. Eriyadu Island Resort's is spectacular.

Snorkeling and diving at Maafushi (they got three dive centers) in Kaafu Atoll. If you're interested to see stingrays and sharks, ask your hotel/guesthouse in Male for packages.

Night fishing trip — or shall I say fishing lesson — with a local fisherman. Also, whale and dolphin watching.

Day trip to the uninhabited island of Kuda Bandos. Ideal for a romantic picnic. I believe guesthouses in Male and Hulhumalé offer this for about $50 per head. Includes transfers and a bottle of water.

Hulhumalé Island's artificial beach is packed with locals in the afternoon.
Laze on Male's artificial beach. Or take the passenger ferry to Hulhumalé Island and laze on its own artifical beach. Important: Because there are communities on both islands, women are not allowed to wear bikinis on public beaches. Sorry ladies, no sexy selfies.

If you wish to consume alcohol, the only bar in Maldives that isn't on a safari boat or in an island resort can be found Hulhule Island Hotel on Hulhule Island where the airport is. If you're staying in Male, this means you must take the ferry for a tipple!

Getting Out

Passengers are not allowed inside the departure area until check in counter opens. Ticket is inspected by a guard at the entrance.

There's a left luggage service outside the arrivals area, $5 per bag a day.

Departure taxes are included in the ticket.

Spend your leftover rufiyaa on souvenirs at the airport. A fridge magnet though is $4-5.

Have you been? Share us some tips as well!

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Tacking Point Lighthouse, Port Macquarie, Australia: Cutest Lighthouse We've Seen, Ever!

We helped ourselves to a light brekkie. Our tummies were still quite cramped with the previous night's fantastic bolognese dinner that Chris, our Couchsurfing host, prepared for us. Though mildly handicapped with a leg cast (he and a fellow backpacker got thrown off a motorbike in Vietnam or Cambodia or somewhere), Chris worked swiftly in and around the kitchen. He even played with one-year-old Luna in between.

I yawned as I took a bite from my toast.

She demands a "superman" anytime, anywhere.
It was day 140 of our 2011-2012 round-the-world trip, and our family of three were on an interstate journey from Gold Coast, Queensland to Sydney, New South Wales — transported by an old beat-up, borrowed Ford Festiva which we lovingly named Gumby after that clay humanoid it shares the same color with. Stuffed in Gumby's trunk are our measly belongings which we moved out of the artist's cabin by the beach where we lived for a month and a half. Belongings which will travel with us for 140 more days, across 5 other continents.
  Lighthouse Beach Rainforest Reserve. Just behind our host's house.

We requested a couch from Chris who lives in Port Macquarie to break the long drive of more than eight hundred kilometers. The coastal city's situated about a little past halfway to our destination, which makes it an ideal stopover for a night. We heard it's got gorgeous beaches too. And a koala hospital.

Lighthouse atop the headland Tacking Point. Doesn't look like a lighthouse from this angle.  

Chris must be in sixties. Married once with a son and daughter who now live independently in other Aussie states. He's got the huge house to himself for years. But like his family, the house rarely sees him because he's still very much hooked with backpacking. He is a trove of world trivia and hilarious travel blunders. He's got an eye for vintage treasures (I was totally diggin' the old weighing scale he purchased from Cambodia or Vietnam or somewhere) which he collects. And he's a sponsor for a Khmer child's education.

I gathered from the way he told his adventures that he's not slowing down anytime soon. His lust for life is burning. I wondered if hubby and I will be like that in three decades' time. Roughing it in our golden years? I cringed at the thought.

Halfway up the headland. Lighthouse Beach seems endless.

After eating (and pulling Luna away from Chris' nine ancient broken phones she was playing with), Chris led us down the outdoor deck to their murky private pool. Not for a swim, but to exit the rear gate that has an access to the Lighthouse Beach Rainforest Reserve. Yes, the forest is their backyard.

But wait... There's more! A long stretch of beach is also nearby. Chris gave detailed instructions on how to get to it, which I mapped in my head, before waving a catch-ya-later. And off we went.

Tacking Point Lighthouse, standing 8-meter tall. Cutest lighthouse we've seen, ever!  

It took us only a few minutes to traverse the small section of rainforest. At the end of the path is Matthew Flinders Drive that runs parallel to Lighthouse Beach, and we didn't see a lighthouse when we crossed it. It was summer yet the beach was surprisingly empty when we arrived. The beach was so stunning I wanted to cry.

We finally noticed the lighthouse perched on a headland while we were strolling on the shore. I couldn't believe it's a real lighthouse. It's the teensiest, cutest I've seen. Ever! There's a staircase leading up to Tacking Point (named so by Mathew Flinders in 1802 while sailing and tacking his to the coast) and the climb's relatively no sweat.

Miners Beach north of Tacking Point Headland. Unofficial nude beach.   Tacking Point Lighthouse has been in operation since 1879. It's Australia's third oldest. From here, the view of the coast is simply spectacular and sometimes whales can be spotted near the coastline (they migrate to give birth and to feed) between June and October. It's also a good vantage point for watching surfers when it's the season.

Back on the beach.
No whales, no surfers for us to gaze at that late morning though. Just the beaches and the Tacking Point Lighthouse. And they, along with our host (plus the Koala Hospital we were to visit at noon), were enough to make our pit stop in Port Macquarie worthwhile.

Oh, did I mention that Tacking Point Lighthouse is cute?

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Unawatuna Beach, Sri Lanka: Where We Should Have Been Since The Beginning

It was a foot race at an ungodly hour, and those who were leading the pack won precious seats in rusty crimson carriages. Even with our clumsy locomotor skills comandeered by half-asleep brains, we succeeded in seizing two 'second class' hard seats under my — ahem — competitive lead. They were to cradle our arses for the next eight hours.

Unawatuna's golden shore.

The rush quickly began to ebb, and exhaustion kicked in. Hubby and I sat in silence for a long while, swallowed in our own thoughts. And grumpiness. We responded to the curious, sleepy stares that surrounded us in the cabin with blank looks. A gesture born out of short-term caffeine deprivation. At least for me. As for the hubby who I dragged in such complex web of itinerary, he seemed like he simply didn't want to be there.

Like he wanted to go home just to have a vacation.

Scenic part of the Anuradhapura-Galle rail route.  

Up until that point everything was going as planned. However, I was deluded to believe that our bodies could take the beating. We were weary to the bone. Remorse was written all over my face, but to be honest, I didn't want it any other way. Sri Lanka is one of those countries that the hubby wouldn't step foot on again and I wanted us to see as much we could, even if it meant turning our holiday into something that resembled Amazing Race.

Wouldn't describe it paradisiacal, but quite laid back.
Train chugged at five in the morn, amazingly punctual. Outside was still pitch dark. I must have shifted into 101 positions, none of which lulled me to sleep. At the next train station, we learned that slumber's indeed impossible to attain when a huge batch of passengers poured in and filled the cabin to the brim. Standing passengers placed their suitcases and even their babies on sitting passengers' laps. It's the norm.

Tame waves at peak season.  

Noon approached and I was feeling woozy. It became more difficult to move around cause our good-for-two hard bench got tighter when I let a child squeeze in beside me. It was also harder to breathe due to the packed crowd under my nose.

No sign of rubbish.

Amidst lethargy, I caught sight of a weary smile at the other end of the cabin. It belonged to a local, standing on the aisle, her eyes resting on me. Even with the occasional rocking of the cabin when the road rail bends, she was firmly rooted on the floor. One hand holding onto a seat, and the opposite arm was carrying her toddler. She made it seem effortless. You know what's more impressive? She was like that for almost a couple of hours.

And there I was whining about my lack of sleep. I was then a new mom to seven-month-old Luna and this memory changed my view on parenting. But that's not to say I could/would stand for two hours aboard a train while carrying a tot. To this very day, I think the woman possesses superhero powers. 

A beauty ravaged by the 2004 tsunami.

Our arrival in Galle was on the dot. The alighting was surprisingly not a push-and-shove business. It didn't take long for us to exit the station and cross the street to catch a bus to our final destination, Unawatuna Beach. The snail-pace drive, with a few stops to pick up and drop off passengers, took almost twenty minutes. We checked in the first cheap hostel we found, dropped our backpacks and dashed to a nearby restaurant faster than you could say ayubowan (a greeting in Sinhala).

Featuring: The hubby and his creepy mustache.

Despite our droopy eyes, we headed to the shore after licking our plate clean  —  not a trace of huevos rancheros was left on it. We found the beach oddly uncrowded. A few elements reminded me of the Philippines' Puerto Galera. Not entirely palm fringed, and hostels are housed in low-rises. Tables and chairs are set up right on the beach. Only a few peddlers pass by every so often to hassle sunbathers.

The moment our feet sunk in the fine, golden sands the hubby muttered, "We should have been here since the beginning of this trip." Followed by, "Now where do we order beer?".  


Not-So Refreshingly Sri Lanka (and it's all my fault) Series:

Sigiriya, Sri Lanka: Lion's Rock
Photo Essay: Golden Temple of Dambulla, Sri Lanka
Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka: Ruins Of An Ancient Capital
Temple of The Tooth
The Kandy House
Not-So Refreshingly Sri Lanka
How To Apply For A Sri Lanka Tourist Visa In The Philippines


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Tondol Beach, Anda, Pangasinan

Ratio of trike drivers to passengers, 13:3 ½. It was quarter to five in the afternoon and we just arrived at Anda's sleepy terminal across the town market. Out of the 13 hopefuls, apparently there's only one driver who could take us to our final destination. Or perhaps, the next one on queue, as the TODA's policy dictated. Our weeny squad of 2 ½ was ushered towards the trike. The only other passenger who hopped off the Five Star Bus merely walked away.

Sauntering on a sandbar.
Our four hour non-aircon bus ride from Tarlac City left me a bit dazed, for we tried to keep our toddler Luna entertained the whole trip whilst seated at the rearest-of-them-all row. So I dozily agreed on the P120 rate, accompanied with indignant murmurs. We were heading to some far, far away beach during lean season, and the fare was going to cover for the 30-minute trip going there plus the driver's 30-minute trip back to Anda's center. And nope, we didn't ask for a pick up. We're indecisive like that.

Home for three days, Star Inn.
The road to Tondol Beach has bumpy sections here and there, but nothing an intrepid traveler's arse can't handle. We entrusted the fate of our accommodation to the helm of our trike driver. While that sounds like some great responsibility, taking us to Star Inn was actually a no-brainer. It's the first lodge we stumbled upon. The driver didn't have to push on further.

Cloudy afternoon. Tourist mass, nonexistent.
At that time, Star Inn had no other guests and we were lucky to bunk in the only room fronting the beach. For P1,500 with aircon and enough space for five adults, it's quite a sweet deal so we took it. Except, our headcount wasn't five but two and a half for the first night and three and a half for the second night. Still, it turned out to be a wise choice because the other resort is situated near a karaoke joint which had inebriated locals belting day and night.

Boat hired by fellow guests who practiced sport fishing that weekend.
We crashed early the first night, just after we gobbled our room-delivered dinner. Fancy, ain't it? Mind you, there are only a few eateries on Tondol Beach, so you could imagine how surprised we were when the caretaker of our resort handed us a food delivery menu. Prior the trip, I already knew about the area's lack of establishments, but did not bother lugging a cook set for we were on another long term journey. Instead we psyched ourselves to feed on canned goodies every meal, and thankfully, that didn't happen.

Tanduyong Island, sitting across Tondol Beach, can easily be reached by foot when the tide is low.
Our second day started hours before dawn. Commenced by a phone call I groggily answered at half past three in the morning. A very awake Leo, on the other end of the line, asked where Star Inn is. His trike driver couldn't find it. Though I failed to give clear directions, they managed to find the place amidst the pitch-dark surroundings. I was stoked to open the gates for an old friend (Who by the way designs Pinay Travel Junkie's headers!), even if I had to pass the ferocious resident dog.

The combo of gentle waves and uber low tide creates a shallow, natural pool ideal for tots.
Back at our room, our day-long catch up began. Over cups of cheap instant coffee, over aimless stolls on the water, over an instant pancit canton lunch, and over an afternoon alcomix drinking sesh. He was then nursing a heartbreak, which made him crave for a spontaneous getaway in the first place. Often he ducked out when we're not engaged in a lengthy conversation. He'd reappear hours after, deep in thoughts yet with a trace of cheery aura only the sea breeze could bring forth.

A splashin', rad time for the traveling tot.
The rest of that Saturday was spent strolling on the vast stretch of beach from end to end. We didn't feel like hanging out at the lodge anymore for there were rowdy weekenders who checked in next door. Tanduyong Island looked inviting from afar, but we opted to stay close to the shore since we were with the little one. We scoured the coast's sandy skirt for properties on sale. Hubby and I loved the quaint community so much that we actually envisioned ourselves living there someday.

In the distant future perhaps, when we're finally sick of this nomadic lifestyle of ours.

Trip's Nitty Gritty:

1. How to get there: There are direct buses to Anda, aircon and non aircon, from Five Star Cubao and Dagupan Bus Cubao (more or less P400). Call the stations to check the schedule. My friend Leo took the Five Star aircon bus that left 11:00PM from Cubao and arrived in Anda around 3-ish AM (via Camiling, Tarlac). If you miss the Anda-bound bus, you may hop on another bus heading to Alaminos (about P390). From Alaminos, you could take a jeep or mini bus to Anda town proper (1 hour).

From Anda, trikes can be hired from P120-150 (30 minutes). Price depends on the season, time, and number of passengers.

2. Accommodation: Erm, sorry guys but I failed to get Star Inn's contact number. You could try JCT Beach Resort 09214949248. There's a campsite available for the more outdoorsy travelers. Admission to the site is P5 per head, plus about P300 (price also depends on the season) for an open hut that can be used as dining area. As of our visit, pitching of tent is free.

3. Food: It's wise to come prepared since there ain't much food establishments around. Star Inn has a kitchen for guests' use. Across Star Inn, there's a sari-sari store manned by a lady who accepts paluto for a minimal fee. There are locals who peddle the fishermen's catch of the day early morn. Watch out for that if you're a seafood fan.

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Coloane Island, Macau: Cheoc Van Beach, Seac Pai Van Park and Giant Panda Pavilion

On our second day in Macau last year, we woke up to another hazy morn. The parking lot servicing beach goers was almost empty. We sprinted across it as we waved mom hello, she was watching us from our Pousada De Coloane Beach Hotel room's balcony. I got my fingers crossed, hoping the drizzle would cease. Hurriedly, we took the obligatory family snapshot, sans mom who refused to go down. She ain't, and never was, a beach person.

Cheoc Van Beach on a foggy Friday.
Cheoc Van Beach during weekdays and hazy days is an uncrowded cove. Its yellow ochre sand and murky water may not have enough charm to draw in busloads of tourists, but it's quite popular with locals (or so I heard) who wish to bask in the sun once in a while... And backpackers like us who sought refuge from the bustle of Macau Peninsula and Cotai.

Testing the water's temp.
We spotted a lone swimmer preoccupied with the monotony of his laps, and we quietly watched him until we realized that it has stopped raining. It was our cue to go. Mom finally joined us as we climbed up the set of steep stairs that leads to the main street. She whined all the way.

Seac Pai Van Park.
The bus stop is just a few meters away from the hotel's rear access and we all got there in no time, despite mom's breathless bickers and countless rest stops. A No. 25 bus fetched us after about five minutes of waiting, and the ride to Seac Pai Van Park took less than ten. From the entrance, we followed a stream of families with kids of all ages and ended up at the newly opened Giant Panda Pavilion's ticket booth.

Now here's something that cheered her up after all that hiking. She elbowed everyone out of the frame prior to this shot.
There's no admission fee to get in Seac Pai Van Park where you could view a few animals in cages, but the admission to the Giant Panda Pavilion costs 10 MOP for adults (children 12 and under and seniors 65 and above come in for free). Only a certain number of guests are allowed in the pavilion every hour, that means the ticket is only good for a certain schedule. We were fortunate that one panda was awake at 10:00-11:00 AM, our designated sched, which apparently is their feeding time.

Giant Panda Pavilion.
For almost the entire hour, I cried (remember Ocean Park?). And I constantly fought my way through children to get close to the glass window for the panda was amazingly walking here and there. I garnered stares of bewilderment from them little ones, and from my folks. My mom even remarked "weird" in passing. "This happened before, it's normal.", the hubby (carrying our daughter Luna who slept throughout) assured her.

Feeding time!
I stayed until the guards shooed us away. While half of the family headed to the snack bar for food, the other half scoured the souvenir shop for the cheapest items. I emerged from the store with just a plastic pocket credit card holder. The panda plushies were way beyond our budget. Thank goodness Luna was too young to grab stuff from shelves.

Waiting for the crowd to thin out to spend some time alone with the adorable panda.
If you're obsessed with pandas like me or have children who are obsessed with pandas like me, the bus trip from Macau Peninsula is definitely worth it. Otherwise, you're better off amusing yourself in one of those glitzy hotels. The Giant Panda Pavilion is closed on Mondays, and you could check the schedule here. How to get there: Take buses numbered 21A, 25, and 26A.

Prepare to battle it out with ferocious kids.

Macau Series: Meet My Backpacking Folks

Meet My Backpacking Folks
Century-Old SanVa Hospederia
Largo Do Senado: And The Family Chaos Continues
Review: Pousada De Coloane Beach Hotel
Photo Essay: The Venetian and City of Dreams, Macau

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Puerto Galera Reggae Festival 2012: An Irie Getaway

It was a throwback to the early 2000s in the Philippines when I frequented 70s Bistro and Xaymaca, dated a dread head, and didn't mind watching a live band performance of "Get Up Stand Up" thrice a week. Only, it felt odd not lugging around a toddler... And sweating alcohol.

The venue: Encenada Beach Resort, Brgy. Palangan, Puerto Galera.
The drinking session started at ten in the morn. Though fellow travel blogger Monette of Flip Travels and I desperately needed to hit the loo since docking at Puerto Galera's White Beach, we managed to plod tens of meters to Coco Aroma and order cold beer first. At midday, we were joined by Melo of Out Of Town Blog, who arrived the day before with the bands via hired bus and private outrigger boat (bad-arse!). He is, by the way, the main culprit of our irie getaway.

Tranquil shore turned tent city.
You see, a couple of weeks back, Eric of Byahilo and I were invited by Melo to check in Encenada Beach Resort for free (sponsored by its management). And I found out about the Puerto Galera Reggae Festival through a long lost friend from Tabinay who coincidentally DJed at the resort's resto-slash-bar the night we stayed there. Melo offered us a place to crash should we attend. An offer difficult to resist.

Unscrubbed beach. Au naturel. Exchanging giggles with Monette.
Because the hubby was overseas for some geek convention on the event day, I leaped at the opportunity to take a leave from parenting (thanks to ze mum). I was hoping to catch up with blogger pals I terribly missed, and well, that's all we did throughout the day. From White Beach to Encenada Beach. From noon until the wee hours.

Rare appearance, I've heard. Turtle Club in town.
Our lazy afternoon was spent dipping in shallow, turquoise water fronting a row of tents. Whilst twilight witnessed us sipping a bottle of wine and gobbling sizzling sisig. Everything that transpired thereafter was nothing short of insane. From meeting inebriated Couchsurfers (who prolly won't remember being introduced to us), to swimming in the dark, to skanking with random strangers. Melo stayed sober, kept guard as we did things beyond letting our hair down. Erm okay, the night wasn't that wild. In fact, we hit the sack just a little past one.

Lady I rockin' the crowd.
We were able to catch almost all the acts: Octopus Garden, Kapis, Iraya, Turtle Cub, Lady I, Papa Ugee, Reggae Mistress, DJ Shrimpy and DJ Tomas. Sadly we missed Coco Jam and Jun Lopito, for our aging bones pleaded to retire early. Guess I'd have to attend Puerto Galera Reggae Festival 2013 to again have that chance of watching 'em perform on the beach.

The morning after. With Papa Ugee from Japan.
Crossing my fingers and hoping that we'd be in the country for next year's fest.


Disclaimer: Non-watermarked snapshots were taken by the awesome Melo Villareal.

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